Photo gallery of Mom is online

Sept. 4: 12 am. I’ve had so many thoughts I’ve been wanting to write about these last few days, but we have been busy, busy, busy getting things ready for the events later this week.  Maretta, Dad, and I have gone through the house and pulled together several boxes of things to display at the visitations on Thursday and Friday.  And I’ve spent hours and hours going through photo albums and boxes of photos to dig out pictures of Mom.  Heather came to stay with us the other day, and with her help, we’ve scanned or acquired almost 700 pictures of Mom from over the years.
100 of my favorites (so far…I hope more keep coming in from people) are in the gallery.

I’ve been so surrounded by things pertaining to Mom and things that embody her spirit these last days, that I know logically that she is gone, but she really doesn’t feel gone.  In fact, she feels very present.  I’ve been trying to pull up feelings of sadness today, but either I’m too focused to be sad today or I’m just feeling to grateful for the rich legacy that she’s left us to find room for mourning.

I found myself walking along today, repeating as my feet hit the ground, “Mom is dead, Mom is dead, Mom is dead.”  And now that I’ve written that down, it looks horrible, but when I was thinking it, I really felt like I was just reminding myself so I didn’t forget again and again.  I think that between the frantic pace of our preparations, the incredible outpouring of love and support I’m getting from friends near and far, and the wonderful feelings of peace that I get from looking through things from the past have given me a respite today.
Who knows how tomorrow will go, but I’ll take a bit of a peaceful day!

Photo slide show of Mom

Sept. 1: 9:45 pm.  My cousin Scott dropped off a CD at my house this afternoon.  I popped it in my computer this evening, and I was really touched by the video of pictures of Mom that he compiled into a video.  Thank you so much, Scott.
WARNING: Before viewing, you may want to make sure you are in a situation where you can comfortably sob and have several Kleenexes nearby.
View the video here.

The little things and the big things

Sept. 1: 9:30 pm.  Today has been such a hard day.  After the previously mentioned dreadful decisions we had to make about Mom’s funeral, Maretta had the brilliant suggestion that she and I go out for spa treatments.  So I booked Maretta for a massage, and I got a spa pedicure, and we recuperated through pampering.
I feel, though, like life is now full of little land mines, and until I really absorb and adjust to this new reality-without-Mom, I am going to keep stepping on these land mines and getting hurt.  The last few weeks, I think I was mostly concerned about the big things we would miss without Mom here.  I’ve been worried about her not being there for weddings and graduations and to see future grandchildren and all the celebrations and times of togetherness that we’ll miss and need her.  I’ve spent a lot of time mourning those big things from many people’s perspective.  But I think that at least this week, it’s the little things that are hurting.

Last night at the get-together at Terry’s, Maretta and I talked about how we were both waiting for Mom to come in.  I actually thought to myself, “I wonder where Mom is.”  Clearly, I haven’t fully come to grips with the situation at hand.  Tonight while Andrew was taking his bath, he was being overly rambunctious in the tub.  I was trying not to laugh at his antics, and I mentally filed away the situation as a story to tell Mom next time she asked me if Andrew was still cute.  I just simply cannot believe that she’s not going to call and ask me how my day was or that I’m not going to get to show her the color I painted my toes today.

It’s too much.  She’s too much a part of my life, a part of the mirror I use to see myself, to be gone.

So I think I will sit here for a few moments in the throes of unhappiness and wait for a joke or a wave of energy to break the mood and set me back on the new track that I’m learning to travel.  It’s just pretty easy to get derailed these days.
~Althea

Funeral and visitation details

Sept. 1: The details of the funeral and visitation are as follows:
A visitation will take place on Thursday, September 6, 2007 at Bethel Lutheran Church, 312 Wisconsin Ave. from 4:30 – 6:00 p.m. with a prayer service at 6:00 p.m. Mom has been a long-time member of Bethel.  It’s the beautiful church where I was married.

Mom’s funeral will take place on Friday, September 7, 2007 at St. Peter’s Catholic Church, 5001 N. Sherman Ave., at 10:00 a.m.  A time for visiting with family will take place prior to the funeral from 9-10 am. Although she was not Catholic, Mom has attended mass at St. Peter’s with Dad weekly for decades.  Father Roger will be officiating the celebration, and there will be a time to share memories about Mom during the service.

Details about burial location and and luncheon plans are still being determined.  We’re also hoping to create an opportunity for people to get together on Thursday evening after the visitation/prayer service.  Stay tuned for details.

We’ve just completed what I can only summarize as a dreadful meeting with the funeral home to determine all the arrangements for Mom’s funeral and visitation.  Ryan Funeral Homes was a great help, and the conversations we had were all collaborative and productive, but I think all of us felt slightly destroyed inside by having to make these kinds of decisions about our mommy.

Onion or uterine parasite?

Sept. 1: I’m now at 17 weeks of pregnancy, and there have been quite a few times in the last week that I felt a little bubble-like sensation.  I’m pretty sure it’s the little one starting to say hello.  This has been a really easy pregnancy thus-far.  Andrew seems to enjoy saying good morning to the “teeny tiny” in Mama’s belly, and he’s doing a lot of baby roll-playing these days.
I have my next prenatal appointment in a couple weeks.  Not particulary showing yet, but I seem to remember that it was just after week 20 that I really “popped” with Andrew.  This little person is keeping me hungry and happy.  I am enjoying this part of pregnancy where things are pretty low-key.  One of my neighbors is due any moment.  The anticipation!

Here’s the Week 17 Update from Babycenter.com:

Your baby weighs about 5 ounces now,
and he’s around 5 inches long — about the size of a large onion. The umbilical cord, his lifeline to the placenta, is growing stronger and thicker. Your baby can move his joints, and his skeleton — until now, rubbery cartilage — is starting to harden into bone.
Some of it will remain cartilage for years after he’s born. A newborn’s skeleton has 300 parts (a combination of bone and cartilage). As your child grows, some of these parts harden and fuse together. By the time your baby reaches adulthood, he’ll have just 206 bones.

Because we could all use a laugh

Sept. 1: This Onion article, Woman Overjoyed by Giant Uterine Parasite has given us a lot of laughter in the last few days.  Thought you would enjoy it too.

Woman Overjoyed By Giant Uterine Parasite

August 27, 2007 |

Issue 43•35

NEW BRIGHTON, MN—Immediately following a physician’s examination for her menstrual cessation, 37-year-old events planner Janice Crowley told reporters Tuesday that she is “ecstatic” with her diagnosis of a rapidly growing intrauterine parasite.

“I’m so happy!” Crowley said of the golf ball–sized, nutrient-sapping organism embedded deep in the wall of her uterus. “I
was beginning to think this would never happen to me.”

Crowley’s condition is common and well-documented, with millions of women between the ages of 12 and 50 diagnosed every year. Studies have shown that while the disorder strikes without prejudice across racial, ethnic, and class lines, it bears a very high correlation with the consumption of alcohol at the time of infection. Although there is a low-cost daily medication available that can prevent the harmful symbiote with 99 percent efficacy, many women inexplicably choose not to use it.

Symptoms of potential uterine blight are wide-ranging and can include nausea, vomiting, constipation, irritability, emotional instability, swollen or tender breasts, massive weight gain, severe loss of bone density, fatigue, insomnia, excessive flatulence, hemorrhoids, vaginal tearing, and involuntary defecation.

“I can’t wait to tell my parents!” said Crowley, who added that she is reasonably certain she contracted the parasite while on a romantic Caribbean cruise with her husband in May, most likely during a brief sojourn in the Virgin Islands.

“I think it must have happened in that little seaside villa on St. Thomas,” said Crowley in an attempt to pinpoint precisely how long ago her endoparasitic ailment began. “Or maybe the night we went to that secluded beach on Tortola.”

Crowley has reportedly refused a simple inexpensive outpatient procedure that would completely rid her of the detrimental organism in about an hour, effectively sparing her from the host of complications that will burden her and her family for the rest of their lives.

“We’re thinking of naming [the parasite] either Robert or Lisa,” Crowley said. “I just couldn’t be more excited!”

Among the many signs that Crowley’s condition is deteriorating rapidly is a frequent compulsion to consume foods in unorthodox and often revolting combinations.

“For some reason I can’t stop eating olives dipped in chocolate cake frosting,” Crowley said cheerfully. “And the other day I just had to have sardines with butter and jam. Crazy!”

In what will likely be the most painful experience of her life, Crowley will eventually require hospitalization in order to remove the giant entity. There is at least a 15 percent chance doctors will be forced to cut the parasite directly from her abdomen, a procedure that would result in severe trauma and scarring. If Crowley survives the operation, she will have to cope with the minimum 18 additional years of emotional and financial drain that is typically associated with this parasite, as well as irrevocable harm to her toned and relatively youthful body, This includes scarring to her breasts and stomach, and a series of visibly pronounced veins along her thighs and groin.

“Just think, in a couple of months I’ll be able to feel it kicking,” Crowley said of the creature that will soon be writhing restlessly inside her, increasingly and disproportionately robbing her of her strength and stamina. “It’s truly a miracle.”

Though Crowley is otherwise healthy, the fact that she is in her late 30s makes it much more likely that the parasite has already split and multiplied within her womb.

Late night thoughts

Momspictureforthepaper_color.jpgSept. 1: 3:30 am.  It’s the middle of the night, and I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to get up to make some edits to Mom’s obituary.  During our pizza get-together at Terry’s last night, he interviewed most of the attendees and from those conversations crafted a really beautiful and personal tribute for Mom.
We’re hoping to have it run in Sunday’s paper, which means we need to submit it by noon on Saturday.  Thought you might like to see our work-in-progress.

The picture is from Andrew’s second birthday party on June 22.  Mom was already getting sick again, but we didn’t know it yet.  In this picture, Andrew is sitting on her lap opening some engineer overalls.  It’s just so hard to believe that around 70 days ago, Mom was so vibrant and so fully present in our lives.  It’s been a hard couple of months.

MADISON – Margot Babler, 55, a woman of exceptional warmth and wisdom, died peacefully on August 31, 2007. She spent the final three days of her life at the wonderful HospiceCare center in Madison, surrounded by friends and family, the culmination of a 27-month battle with pancreatic cancer.

Margot was born on April 7, 1952 in Beloit, Wisconsin to Joseph L. and Lorraine (nee Bergmann) Davis. She is the granddaughter of Ward and Elsie (nee Leedle) Davis and Henry and Tekla (nee Loeber) Bergmann.  She was a 1970 graduate of Ashland High School, and she attended UW Whitewater from 1970-1972. On August 12, 1972, she married Kim M. Babler.

She has lived in Madison since 1977. Margot was kind, selfless, positive, honest, subtle, with a wonderful sense of humor and an ability to laugh at herself. She was optimistic and non-judgmental, accepting human frailties with humor and love. She had an unusually even temperament, and she was called upon by many for her qualities of judgment. She gave freely to others without expecting anything in return, and she had a unique way of enriching and bettering the lives of everyone who crossed her path.

Margot had an especially strong love of family. If her children needed anything, she was there to help. Many times, she knew what one of them needed before they did, and she had the uncanny ability to make her children call her on the phone. She taught her children the importance of respect and of cultivating long-term relationships, of independence and high self-esteem. She was the most wonderful person in the world to hug: she knew the power of a hug, and she would hug you as long as you needed. She gave one of the most important pieces of advice a mother can give: “Eat something, you’ll feel better.” To far more than her immediate family, she was “mommy.” She created a world in which a large extended group of friends became a real part of her family.

Several aspects of Margot’s character and life were truly extraordinary. She was an arts lover and a romantic who valued beauty for the sake of beauty (and not to impress); yet she always gave very rationally grounded, rock-solid advice to others. She had an intuitive and accurate sense of the right course of action in any situation. To her family and friends, it felt as if she always had the right answer to every question: she understood. Yet she also knew that sometimes the best course is to just sit with another person, not talking. She had unusually good taste and a sense of refinement, particularly in aesthetics and cuisine. Indeed she was both a wonderful decorator and cook, in the latter role not afraid to use butter andcream. Her dishes were made with love, and people across the countryare using her recipes. Margot had a rare innate ability to connect with all people on some level and to befriend everyone. Her abilities to know what others were thinking seemed psychic.

Margot was not perfect: she was an untidy housekeeper, disorganized and dependably late. She always fell asleep during the first act of operas and plays. But on the things which really count in life, she was right there, right on target.

Margot is survived by her husband Kim and four very special +children: Althea (Bryan) Dotzour, Michael, Maretta (fiance Kyle Zilic),
and Joseph all of Madison; her grandson Andrew Dotzour; her mother Lorraine Davis of Janesville; three siblings, Peter J. (Marcia) Davis of Iowa, Kate (Greg) Brand of Washington and Kirk J. (Susan) Davis of Texas; aunts and uncles John Bergmann, Mildred Klumb, Carol Lamm and Edgar Bergmann; and friends who are as close as family including Terry Haller, Thomas Kuczmarski and Jack Kussmaul. She was preceded in death by her father Joe on May 14, 1973.

A visitation will take place on Thursday, September 6, 2007 at Bethel Lutheran Church, 312 Wisconsin Ave. from 4:30 – 6:00 p.m. with a prayer service at 6:00 p.m. with Reverend Bill White officiating.

A second visitation will be held at St. Peter’s Catholic Church, 5001 N. Sherman Ave. on Friday, September 7, 2007 from 9:00 – 10:00 a.m.

The family also invites you to a funeral to honor Margot’s life well-lived on Friday, September 7, 2007 at St. Peter’s Catholic Church, 5001 N. Sherman Ave., at 10:00 a.m. with Father Roger Nilles officiating.

A memorial fund has been set up in Margot’s name at Olbrich Gardens. For friends near and far, please visit margots-forget-me-nots.com to share your remembrances, photos, and recipes.

As the day moves on

Aug. 31: 4:30 pm.  There’s not a lot to report on this afternoon, but I’m used to doing regular web updates, so it seems right for me to sit down with the computer for a few moments.  Around 11 this morning, Maretta, Kyle, and I came over to Michael’s house where we joined Michael, his roommates, Joe and Becky, Terry, and Dad.  We sat around and laughed and cried and talked about things together.  After a while, we took a drive west of Madison to Riley’s Tavern.  It is a perfectly beautiful day today, and a drive through the countryside with the tall, drying corn and the beautiful wildflowers coveys a feeling of peace.

We went for a short hike along the Military Ridge trail, and then we came back and have scattered to take care of life’s errands before tonight’s get-together at 6pm.  Speaking of which, if you’re in the area, I’m re-extending an invitation for you to come to Terry’s tonight to join us.  6 pm at 100 Wisconsin Ave. #801.  Call me on Mom’s cell phone 239-5453 with questions.

We’re meeting with the funeral home tomorrow morning at 10 am to begin planning Mom’s memorial.  It’s new territory for all of us.

Michael and I are going to work to set up and online community for people to share pictures, recipies, and stories about Mom, so if you want to start thinking about things to share, please do so.

One thing I’ve noticed is that we have very few pictures of Mom…mostly because she was always behind the camera.  So I’m hoping that maybe our friends and family can help us fill out our collection by sending us images.  We plan to set up something online to help facilitate that, but if you’d like to mail me prints, I’ll scan them and send them back.  Or you can email me images to adotzour@gmail.com.

We are also going to compile a cookbook of recipes from Mom’s collection along with stories that people have associated with those recipes.  So if you feel like it, look through your recipe boxes this labor day weekend.

I’m glad the day is so beautiful.  My mom loves the sunlight of late summer days.
~Althea

A peaceful end

Aug. 31: 9:30 am.  Dad called me at 7 am this morning to tell me that my dear, sweet mommy passed away in the night.  He and our friend Tom were with her, holding her hand, and sending her off from this life with love.  Dad said that around midnight her breathing became very shallow.  Tom had been sitting with her while Dad slept. He came and woke Dad, and so the two of them were with her when her spirit left her body at about 12:50 am.

The news was not unexpected…Dad had called me last evening to say that it didn’t look like she would be with us much longer. But I think I’d known that through the day.  I said goodbye to her and kissed her when I left Hospice at 6 pm last night.  I told her to have a peaceful night…and she did.  For the 14 hours before she died, Mom was still and calm; she seemed to have finished struggling.

I’m so glad we had these last several days of time in Hospice for her to be well cared for and for us to spend time with her.  I’m so glad for these last few mornings I’ve had, curled up with her in bed, smelling her hair and her skin and soaking up my last times with her physical presence.  But in a way, I was ready for her to go and for us to turn to the next chapter of our story.  This transition time has been challenging in its own ways.

Joe was staying with Michael last night, and Maretta stayed with me.  I think that we’re going to get together soon so we can be together.

So here’s some logistical information.  This evening, we are going to meet at Terry’s condo (100 Wisconsin Ave, #801) around 6 pm for pizza and community.  If you are reading this post and are interested in joining us, you’re welcome.  You can call me on my mom’s cell phone (239-5453) if you have questions.

During my sad conversation with Dad this morning, he said that at this point he is thinking about holding a visitation on Friday, September 7 with a funeral on Saturday, September 8.  Ryan Funeral Home will be helping us make arrangements.  More discussion about this and about nice ways to honor Mom will be discussed over the next week.