Mom + ST. louis

​Dates:       6/15/19 – 6/19/19
Total distance: 1000 miles by plane

​People: Mom (Momma, Mamacita, Lon)
​Mom, whom I owe my eternal gratitude for not killing me during my difficult teenage decade, 8th grade through college, where I already knew everything and was impossibly strong-willed - a genetic issue that I believe demands medical research. My mom is an adventurer, a survivor, and a ton of fun. I am grateful she put down her book to give birth to me (not joking) and kept me alive as a child.

Place: Saint Louis (STL, gateway to floods, heat and high humidity in June)
As noted in my first Saint Louis blog, the best thing about STL are the Lions Choice restaurants scattered like tasty golden french fries across the town. We popped into the Lion’s Choice on Hanley, which is not the best representation of their amazing food/ambiance, but there is no such thing as bad Lion’s Choice - some are just fresher, hotter and newer than others!

Our Adventure:
My mother moved into The Willows, an elegantly-appointed senior living community - formerly referred to as an old-folks home. The Willows was a great choice for living with my fathers’ ALZ, but now she is one of the youngest elders. She has a beautiful condo, caring and compassionate neighbors, and meets the age requirement, so we support her alternative lifestyle choice!
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Moving into a 55+ community is the ultimate representation of easy-living. Drivers to the airport, activities delivered to your door, on site restaurants, a handyman on demand, it is hard to get her to leave… let alone cook!

My outlandish idea of making dinner was unenthusiastically received by my mother, since her beautifully appointed kitchen is just for looks!

She finally agreed to my indoor BBQ request, made my favorite potato salad (recipe photo below, enjoy!), and adjusted to the meal to fit our slightly-smaller family. Summer in STL and the loss of my father were both oppressive, the comfort-food and air-conditioned condo was a way to survive both.

Mom wanted to clean out my father’s closet, an activity which walked the uncomfortable emotional line between heartache + necessary evil. My dad’s closet was a time capsule, with a mix of business-class-flying suits mashed up with his favorite “worn-in” shirts, jeans and sneakers.

On a visit to Chicago in the 90s, I threw my dad’s grayish-had-been-white leather sneakers, into a trash can on Michigan Ave, after finally convincing him to buy new tennis shoes. He longed for those grayish-leather sneakers for years afterward, as if all the great memories from his journeys had been saved in their worn-out soles. While his new shoes were comfortable, the old shoes were “just getting worn-in” – a comment he would make when we identified holes, fading, or severe-wear on any type on his favorite things.

Touching each item in my fathers' closet was like rewinding a VHS film in my heart and mind.

His clothing was a talisman, filled with good or bad memories from an important time in Dad’s 73 year history. I carefully folded the Hawaiian shirt, pulled his favorite cowboy boots off the shelf, neatly assembled the tuxedo/cummerbund/cuff links, and emptied the drawer of adult diapers.
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Embracing his wisdom as we carefully rolled up his work ties, which somehow still embodied his business acumen and professional accomplishments. We wrapped up our wonderful family memories deeply embedded in fabrics of his favorite ski clothes, which he would never have agreed to part with.

The only joy, was finally getting to throw away his favorite old t-shirts, perfectly-worn-in + nearly-threadbare, representing his deepest need for comfort and severe lack-of-pretention.

Sharing our best stories while hiding our deepest-sorrow, we donated the clothes he treasured with the new clothes he would have hated, while holding onto the love, memories and traditions that he left just for us.

What I loved:

• Mom’s potato Salad (recipe)
• Lion’s Choice

What I didn't love:

• ​My father’s financial planner doubling his fees during this visit, less than a month after my father passed away