'Tis the Season: 2008

This is a picture of our family at our new house in Clanton! Our new address is 1403 Gate Post Road, Clanton AL 35046. We kept our old cell phone numbers. I've put in a "land line," but I'm getting so many calls looking for the person who used to have the number, I may trade it in. I wish he had paid his bills . . . .

Anyway, we finally got a dog! We were totally set up by some friends (thank you, by the way) to fall in love with sweet little Kenzie, an adorable 1-yr-old mutt (spayed, shots up-to-date, potty trained, and no chewing or other bad habits [thank you again])! She's a doll and I'll have a picture of her asap if it's not already here.

This year has been full of life-altering events for everyone in this Montalbano family. Here's a re-cap:

Daddy died in January. We were all with him and it was an unbelievably peaceful and beautiful thing to watch him leave this world. It has been an awful adjustment, not having him to talk to every day. I really miss Daddy.

We decided to move to Clanton as soon as we could sell our house. We put it on the market in May and sold in late July.

Annie and Lizzy began taking piano from my old piano teacher, Nancy Green, in Verbena. It's wonderful to watch them with her, and I'm so glad to have her in my life again.

We moved out of our home in Birmingham in August and stayed with Monty's parents for two weeks. We really enjoyed having that kind of time with them - what a rare opportunity! We moved into our new home in Clanton on August 16th and began unboxing and settling in. (I'll let you know when we are finished with that - it's mid-December now!)

My best friend from high school, Glenda, and I became good buddies again. We have so much in common even though we've lived apart for 25 years! We both have young children, too, so we are at a similar point in our lives.

The Owens family celebrated Thanksgiving with us Montalbanos in the new house. It was a relaxing and wonderful time to be together. I really enjoyed some great time with nieces Stacy and Beth. Rod brought the exotic meat as usual - deer roast and feral pig. I used Mother's china that her brother Allen had brought her from occupied Japan. What a beautiful table . . . well, three tables because there were 18 of us.

Looking ahead to Christmas, we made a decision to spend only $100 per child for gifts. We've purchased all the goodies, and - so far - we're doing well with that plan. We are really living a simplified life here, and it's really good.

Plans? We plan to get some animals and plant a larger-scale garden this coming year. Our goal is to move to some self-sufficiency using our land. I really want some chickens and some goats. I've also looked at growing edible mushrooms and raising koi fish. (Glenda already does that, so I'll have a great resource.)

I hope our Christmas card finds you and your family happy, healthy, and enjoying the holiday season. We look forward to hearing from you. As you reflect on your year and make plans and resolutions for 2009, look for all the blessings of the year. I hope you will see how they outnumber the problems by far. Merry Christmas, and best wishes for 2009.

Love,
Rebecca, Monty, Jessica, Noah, Annie, and Lizzy

I saw her today . . . .

She was bright-eyed and alert and sitting in her wheelchair in the doorway of her room facing the hallway. Across her lap was a strange cushion shaped to fit under the arms of the wheelchair. This kept her from getting up out of the chair while she recovers from the stress fracture in her back.

Her teeth were out. Again. Apparently, she won't leave them in. Makes sense.

She answered every question, and sometimes she'd even start out with right answers before trailing off into an indiscernible direction. Sometimes she would end her sentences with a series of rhyming words or phrases - Dr. Seuss-like words and phrases. How appropriate on the day schools celebrate his birthday. Right after she uttered those words, I realized how much I would want to remember them and that I probably wouldn't. And I don't.

I asked the big question: "Do you know who I am?" She shook her head (no). I said, "Have you heard from Rick?" She started by saying yes and then went into some mumbling. Then I asked about Rod and John, and she answered similarly. I asked her if she'd spoken to Becky. She started talking like she was going to say yes, but then she started excusing and said that you couldn't expect to hear from someone every day.

I looked at her and smiled and said, "You know who I am. I know you do." She smiled, and let me know that - in her own way - she does, and that's enough.

Afterwards, I spoke with her caregivers and made sure she was eating well. Her"mini-mental" assessment yielded a result of "0" out of a possible 30 points (30 would be perfect). She had no recall whatsoever. Her other assessment was about a number of things some people can do for themselves and her rating in that area: toileting, hygiene, getting dressed, aggression/agitation, and self-feeding. On this one, you want to make a 5 out of 30 - the larger the number, the less you can do for yourself. Mom rated a 26 on this one. Yikes. She really has gone downhill in a short time. The nurses there were very kind and answered my questions and were really empathetic with me.

I teared up when I told the nurse that we'd just lost my Daddy. She said she thinks that Mom is aware of that on some level and is slowly letting go.

As I walked out of the building sniffling and wiping away the tears, I thought again how bad this has all been. Daddy said, "It's just a bad situation. There's nothing we can do about it but pray." He'd say that and we would weep on the phone. I'd tell him how much I love him and that I missed him, and he'd tell me, too.

Then I got in the car and put on some music and drove to pick up the children. I shifted right into that part of the day. We came home and snacked and rode bikes and did homework. Like everything is just fine. It's just a bad situation, and it's part of the mix right now. Some days, I feel like I'm going to go completely insane from the pressure and sadness of it all. Then I snuggle with my babies and we giggle and have fun, and I realize that I can do this - at least one more day.