And Now A T.M.O.C Moment
I admit-I have been lazy on my writing-however a lot has been happening and add in my quest for work-it's been hectic. Christmas this year was actually something to write about-so here goes.
T.M.O.C stands for "True Meaning Of Christmas"-a term coined a while back by some old friends of mine. Essentially it means taking apart the garland, the lights, the commercial aspects of the joke Christmas as a holiday has become and actually feeling the spirit of Christmas and what it means at it's core. I am not talking about waking up in the morning and seeing dozens of pretty wrapped presents all for you, but rather something deeper than that and way more priceless.
Christmas was heading out to be a disaster. Mark's father, Lou, had been looking forward to Christmas day since Thanksgiving, as that was the last time he ventured out of hospice with a day pass and got to see all his family in one place. Anyone reading this probably knows that Lou-my future father-in-law, has Cancer and has been in Hospice since early November. His mother was reluctant to visit the Hospice, as she had a bad experience with another family member years ago that left her with an immense dislike towards them. She also had this sixth sense that Lou wouldn't be able to come to her house for Christmas and that made her very sad.
Early in the morning of December 24th, Lou fell at Hospice, rendering him unable to be allowed to leave for Christmas Day. He was crushed, all he wanted to do was see his family-particularly his mother and he thought she wouldn't come. I stopped by her house on my way back to Norwalk, and Cristy (Mark's cousin) and I told Gramma what was going on. Without hesitation she agreed that she would have to go to him and so the boys worked it out deciding that we would eat an early dinner at Gramma's and then head over to the Hospice.
Matt (Mark's twin) drove Gramma over and the aids let us use a wheelchair to help her up the walk and into his room. We had gotten there a few minutes prior, so Lou knew his mother was coming but I don't think he realized we all meant that we would bring everyone to him in the literal sense.
When she saw the Hospice she was pleasantly surprised-as it looks like a nice home, not a hospital-bright, sunny, homey touches everywhere. She was very impressed and I think it gave her some comfort seeing that he wasn't being filed away or forgotten, but in a nice place.
When we wheeled Gramma into the room, Lou was so happy he was trying to sit up on the bed. At that moment it really hit me that all he wanted for Christmas was to have Christmas with his family, to enjoy watching everyone open their gifts, but most importantly was his mother being there. I watched Gramma settling in, observing and gradually she relaxed, every so often Lou would check on her, ask if she was okay, needed anything-for him it was a taste of normalcy that had been missing since he arrived. Everyone was in one room, one place. It was chaotic to be sure, but it was normal. If there is one thing I have learned from my experiences with people who are incapacitated or sick is they want things to be normal again. So for a few hours, in Lou's case-it was. People were chatting, presents unwrapped and I glanced over time to time and for the first time in months Lou looked content.
Basically for the cost of a little gas, and a large family crammed into one room, there was the T.M.O.C. Nothing else mattered but all of us being in the same place, at the same time. I don't think most people realize the joy of the things most consider mundane, however the little things always seem to have the most impact and one doesn't fully realize love until they see a 63 year old man light up because his mother has come to see him. Those are the things life is about and also the T.M.O.C for the ages.
I admit-I have been lazy on my writing-however a lot has been happening and add in my quest for work-it's been hectic. Christmas this year was actually something to write about-so here goes.
T.M.O.C stands for "True Meaning Of Christmas"-a term coined a while back by some old friends of mine. Essentially it means taking apart the garland, the lights, the commercial aspects of the joke Christmas as a holiday has become and actually feeling the spirit of Christmas and what it means at it's core. I am not talking about waking up in the morning and seeing dozens of pretty wrapped presents all for you, but rather something deeper than that and way more priceless.
Christmas was heading out to be a disaster. Mark's father, Lou, had been looking forward to Christmas day since Thanksgiving, as that was the last time he ventured out of hospice with a day pass and got to see all his family in one place. Anyone reading this probably knows that Lou-my future father-in-law, has Cancer and has been in Hospice since early November. His mother was reluctant to visit the Hospice, as she had a bad experience with another family member years ago that left her with an immense dislike towards them. She also had this sixth sense that Lou wouldn't be able to come to her house for Christmas and that made her very sad.
Early in the morning of December 24th, Lou fell at Hospice, rendering him unable to be allowed to leave for Christmas Day. He was crushed, all he wanted to do was see his family-particularly his mother and he thought she wouldn't come. I stopped by her house on my way back to Norwalk, and Cristy (Mark's cousin) and I told Gramma what was going on. Without hesitation she agreed that she would have to go to him and so the boys worked it out deciding that we would eat an early dinner at Gramma's and then head over to the Hospice.
Matt (Mark's twin) drove Gramma over and the aids let us use a wheelchair to help her up the walk and into his room. We had gotten there a few minutes prior, so Lou knew his mother was coming but I don't think he realized we all meant that we would bring everyone to him in the literal sense.
When she saw the Hospice she was pleasantly surprised-as it looks like a nice home, not a hospital-bright, sunny, homey touches everywhere. She was very impressed and I think it gave her some comfort seeing that he wasn't being filed away or forgotten, but in a nice place.
When we wheeled Gramma into the room, Lou was so happy he was trying to sit up on the bed. At that moment it really hit me that all he wanted for Christmas was to have Christmas with his family, to enjoy watching everyone open their gifts, but most importantly was his mother being there. I watched Gramma settling in, observing and gradually she relaxed, every so often Lou would check on her, ask if she was okay, needed anything-for him it was a taste of normalcy that had been missing since he arrived. Everyone was in one room, one place. It was chaotic to be sure, but it was normal. If there is one thing I have learned from my experiences with people who are incapacitated or sick is they want things to be normal again. So for a few hours, in Lou's case-it was. People were chatting, presents unwrapped and I glanced over time to time and for the first time in months Lou looked content.
Basically for the cost of a little gas, and a large family crammed into one room, there was the T.M.O.C. Nothing else mattered but all of us being in the same place, at the same time. I don't think most people realize the joy of the things most consider mundane, however the little things always seem to have the most impact and one doesn't fully realize love until they see a 63 year old man light up because his mother has come to see him. Those are the things life is about and also the T.M.O.C for the ages.
posted by Chris @ 4:16 PM
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