Thursday, October 15, 2009

And the wanting comes in waves...

Friday night, I got to see a pretty awesome concert in the Cities with Kristen and Kate. Tell me, have you ever heard of The Decemberists? Yes, I *am* looking smug right about now.

Opening act was Laura Veirs. Kristen's been a big fan for years now, but I only knew a couple of songs. Yay for me, Ms. Veirs sang one of them: "Galaxies."


Unlucky for all of us, some douche in the row behind us kept talking through her first few songs. Not a whisper to the person next to him, but full-out, normal voice or louder. Despite several of us turning around and glaring, and Kristen shushing him once, he continued on. What can a girl do? Well, if you're me, you turn around and stare him down, then once you know you have his attention, loudly and slowly say, "SHUT. UP." Oh, sure, his face will turn red and he'll mumble back, "YOU shut up," but it won't affect you. Because he'll then get up with his buddy and leave for the next 30 minutes and you'll have your fellow concert-goers cheer you on. So, really, it's worth it.
Also? We met Laura Veirs after the concert and got her CD autographed. Check out July Flame; it's gorgeous AND you can get two free tracks! Plus, one song is adapted from an Arthur Rimbaud poem. Be still, my heart!


Then the Decemberists took stage. Oh, wait. I guess technically they took the stage while Laura Veirs sang, inundating her band with remote control vehicles. So the second time they took the stage, they played the entire tracklist of "Hazards of Love." Pretty sweet, ya'll.

That chick on the far left of the picture, Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond, is phenomenal. She is a freaking powerhouse! I have a bit of a girl crush on her now. (Don't worry, Neko Case; you're still my No. 1 gal!) During encores, she sang Heart's "Crazy on You." Gave me goosebumps!

And we can't forget about Colin Meloy.

Delish! And he came down from the stage and walked through the audience, stopping at our aisle! He was about seven people away from me!

Chick on the right here? I don't know her name; I called her Ghost of Christmas Past. She creeped me out with her hippy dancing. *sigh* Fine. Her voice *was* incredible. I'll give her that.

Great show, though. Really a lot of fun! Except when douche came back to his seat and started playing the air mandolin. What a maroon.

Quote of the night
Kate, Kristen and I were walking to the concert venue, passing by The Orpheum, which was putting on a production of 101 Dalmations (it said so in bright lights). A tent was set up outside to house the dogs when not in use. They suddenly all started barking. Kristen got a deeply sad look on her face as she looked around to spot where the noise was coming from.
Kristen: Ooohhhh! Is someone having a dog fight?

No, Kate and I have not let her live it down. And neither should you.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

"A house needs a grandma in it." ~Louisa May Alcott


I know I haven't written in a long time, haven't even felt like it. I've shared almost everything on this blog, though mostly I've kept it light and funny. Today I'll explain a little of why I've been so silent of late.

I guess things started to take a toll on me over the summer, and I didn't feel it was appropriate to be sharing with the world. As you know, I've lived with my grandparents since college. About the time I moved in, my grandmother, Lorraine, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Medicine can only slow down the disease so much, and the last year and a half got pretty tough. We never left Grams alone; she couldn't cook anymore; we had to lock the closet doors because she spent most of her days rummaging and "discovering" things.

And then the days started coming faster and faster when she didn't remember my grandpa. Now, my grandma has always been a feisty lady. If a stranger budged in front of her in line at Burger King, she wouldn't hesitate to put them back in their place. If someone marked their wicker basket at $5 at their garage sale, Grandma's look of contempt would not be hidden. I'm pretty sure I take after her more than anyone else. So when she started to not recognize her own husband, thinking he was a bossy stranger, you'd better believe things turned ugly.

Then she thought her dead brothers would come take her back home. Or she worried her father, dead more than 30 years, would wonder where she was. Every day--every hour--was different from the next. "Well, let's go home," she'd say. So we'd take her for long drives two or three times a night, then pull into the same driveway at the same house we'd left from, and she'd be satisfied that she'd left someplace and was now home.

When she didn't recognize us, she tried escaping the house, and it didn't usually go well. Through this past July, I'd wake up about 25-30 times a night, hyperalert for movement or noises, fearing Grandma might fall down the stairs or make her way outside. It was mentally and physically exhausting.

On Aug. 3, my grandfather, uncle and aunt took my grandma to a nursing home. The hardest part was that she had so many lucid moments. Though, yes, it was more frequent that she was constantly trying to leave, to "go home," there were just as many times when she was lovingly kissing her husband, patting his cheeks, calling him sweetheart, telling him she loved him. I can't even tell you how many times in her first three weeks at the nursing home we almost went back to bring her home again.

It's been hard on our family, especially my grandpa. He celebrated 60 years of marriage with her in June; now he drives 11 miles to visit for a couple of hours with her. Sometimes she begs to come home. More recently, she's blank. The downhill march of Alzheimer's is so much quicker than you'd expect.

Nothing is the same without her. She used to bake all the time; Gramps has quite the sweet tooth. Grandma used to work at the church, donating time and talents with cooking, cleaning, etc. She was a wonderful crafter, sewing draft dodgers, pillows, wall hangings, crazy little snowmen. She used to make these gorgeous baskets with lights and pine cones that she'd highlight with glittered paint. I remember several winters where I accompanied her to craft fairs, where she sold all her goodies. She loved coffee, and she always ate weird food combinations, like a hunk of cheese, a gingersnap cookie, and a handful of peanuts. She hated Judge Judy, or "that old bitch," as Gram called her. She loved "Wheel of Fortune" and "Jeopardy!" and playing Yahtzee. She has knickknacks galore in the house.
Everywhere you look, you see her. Except she's not there. That's the hardest of all.