101. A New Bucket List
At the age of 61 I wrote a bucket list. It had one thing on it: to write a book and to see it published. I filled that bucket with 24 additional books. I recently began writing a whole new list. The things that made it onto my new bucket list aren’t things I can do without help, and they aren’t new to me, and they might not be accomplished until after I pass away. That is perfectly fine by me.
Why?
Because the things that made it onto my new bucket list aren’t things for me, they are things I hope Tim will do with or without me tagging along from my recliner. My beloved does not know about this newest scheme. He is learning about it along with all of you. He might balk a bit initially, but he will absolutely be on board after he thinks about it.
Why? Because he is Mr. Wonderful.
My plan: I’m going to include items in the next few blogs until I reach 25. Tim can do them in any order he chooses. I am not going to set a time limit, but given I am on one, he’ll feel the pressure to get some things done in short order. He will have to report back to me with proof of completion: pictures, sales receipts, that sort of thing. Sounds fun. Right?
So here we go!
Take a sibling to Pinecroft Dairy for lunch or dinner and bring me a dish of orange/pineapple ice cream.
Sit on the bench where we fell in love and just breathe, for an hour, and take pictures of the pond and its beautiful surroundings to share with me.
Go to the Worcester Art Museum and reconnect with your first love — art.
Take Hadley apple picking or pumpkin picking.
Play a round of miniature golf and take the ball home; so don’t hit it into the final hole!
Go to Mystic Pizza in Connecticut and spend the day putzing around. Maybe watch the movie before or after your trip. Maybe with me.
Pick out a flowering bush or a flowering tree for our garden.
Go to five movies before our anniversary.
Tim, I know your first instinct is to say you don’t have the time, or that it’ll be a hassle finding a sitter for me, or you’ll find some other reason that is perfectly reasonable under the circumstances. I will counter with this: I think the circumstances dictate that you do some things for yourself. It’s been a long haul since our world was flipped onto its ass, so take some time, please. And remember, if you don’t get through all 25 items before I get to write about them, do them at a later date. That way, I’ll know you are out and about.
My gift to you — your gift to me.
From buckets to urns.
I chose the most beautiful urn for my ashes. If anyone had told me that I’d ever write that sentence I would have laughed long and hard. Even though you are fully aware of my predicament, I suspect you weren’t prepared for that sentence, either. Let me state for the record, I wasn’t prepared to click through an online catalog and choose my urn, but when you plan your own funeral it’s something you need to do. I should clarify a bit. I ordered a typical-sized urn and five tiny urns. Hannah, Jessica, Mom, Marjorie, and Donnie will get a little sampling of me — the weirdest parting gift EVER. What they choose to do with the ashes is up to them.
There has been some talk amongst the recipients, already. It might sound odd, but I’m very interested in knowing where I’ll end up so I listen in. At this point in time, Hannah plans to keep her tiny urn somewhere in her home. Jessica plans to take me to Wells Beach and build me into a sand castle. She said she’ll sit and wait until the ocean comes to claim me. Both of those plans sound wonderful. I imagine Mom will take her tiny urn with her when she is laid to rest, and I haven’t a clue what Marjorie and Donnie will do with their sampling. As for Tim, he has plans for me. I mentioned them in Blog 75, The Impossible Dream:
I’ve already told you in other blogs about my love affair with Nancy Drew, but the other fictional character whom I loved, loved, loved, was Anne Shirley, the main character in the Lucy Maud Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables books. The primary setting for those stories was at the home with green gables where orphaned Anne Shirley went to live. The real home was a 19th century farmhouse very near to where Ms. Montgomery lived as a child. ‘Green Gables’ was located on the Canadian Island the Sneade family visited in 1967. That home is now a National Historic Site situated on land designated as Prince Edward Island National Park.
I went there! And I walked the land where Lucy Maud Montgomery walked! And I sat amongst hip-high blades of grass and Queen Anne’s Lace that was referenced in all of the Green Gables books! And I spent time perched upon a red-clay cliff overlooking the Gulf of St. Lawrence where Anne Shirley and her, “Bosom friend and true kindred spirit,” Diana Barry spent their time!
That place became part of me. It is where Tim wants to spread part of my ashes. Wells Beach and Prince Edward Island, I’d be honored to have either or both as my final resting place.
Before I get to embark on any posthumous travel, I’ll need to kick the bucket. Funny how we’re back to buckets — funny to me, anyway. What isn’t funny is a conversation I had with my mother on a recent Sunday visit. Marchrie sort of nudged Mom into a discussion. The spring of tears into her aged-blue eyes let me know she was struggling with whatever we were about to discuss.
“Sheryll,” hem haw, “I want to remember you like this, sitting in your recliner, looking good.” Her eyes filled, “I’m your mother and I should be with you when—.”
“Mom, there is no should in this.”
“I know, but—.”
“I’m glad you realize what you can and can’t do. I totally get it, Mom, so you shouldn’t beat yourself up over this.”
“I know, but—.”
“Don’t worry, please.”
A fair share of tears were shed by the three of us. The struggle from my elderly mother is that she thinks she is breaking some sort of deathbed code of attendance. I get her struggle. I witnessed her heartache over her decision. I understand all of it. I’ve spent long, lonely nights worrying about things of this nature. I am so grateful and relieved that she knows what she can and what she can’t handle. Her ability to tell me this reinforced how close we are and how understanding we are of one another’s feelings. One day, Mom, Marjorie and I will say our goodbyes. It will hurt like hell, but we will be mentally present. That’s a good thing — a very good thing.
Planning for the actual deathbed scene.
Tim, Hannah, Jessica and I had a discussion that evening and made a very quick and easy decision. The only people who will be in attendance at the passing of Yours Truly will be my husband and our two daughters. They will be medically and emotionally assisted by Kathy and/or Eileen, Nurse M, and my care attendants. My OBs are relieved that things are set this way. It assures they’ll have the privacy they’ll need to react freely, without the presence of others, no matter how much they love them.
Later that Sunday night, my brother weighed in on the subject, “I can’t be there with you when you pass, but even if I was in Worcester, I wouldn’t want to be there. I would be there if you asked, you know that, but I don’t want that to be the last memory of you.”
I appreciate my family’s honesty.
It really helps not having to worry about lasting images.
For them.
The burden of the final event of Sheryll O’Brien will fall upon the three people who have been central to my life as wife and mother. I suppose there is no escaping my final moments for them. I am sure there will be excruciatingly painful times ahead. I trust they will find a way to work through the experience with the support of one another.
A conspiracy is afoot.
Hadley and Hannah visit every suppertime now. Hannah prepares something for Hadley at their place, then schleps it to our place. Within moments of their arrival, Jessica pulls onto the driveway having just returned from her new job at Notre Dame Academy, the high school she and her sister attended, and where both young women are gainfully employed.
Anyway, 183 gets very busy from 4:30 until 6:30 PM. Everyone partakes in some dinner, except me since I’ve been having bouts of nausea lately. I participate when I can, nibbling through suppers that kid’s dreams are made of: pudding, jello, freeze pops, and peanut butter stuffed pretzels. For some unknown reason, I crave peanut butter, even when I’m overcome with nausea.
Back to the story. I’ve come to love these two afternoon hours. There’s lots of talking — sometimes over one another. Hadley regales us with stories about camp and when eating is through she has everyone gather in the living room with me to look out the picture window as she tries cartwheel after cartwheel. Learning how to do them was her summertime goal. Apparently, all of her little schoolmates gather before the morning bell and do a series of cartwheels and handstands. Hadley hoped to return to school having learned this basic tumbling thingy, but after a week of instructional camp at Giguere Gymnastics and a few ‘special lessons’ courtesy of Helena McCarthy’s instructors, the child is still wheeling when she should be carting and vice versa.
The good news is that she is outside for hours on end practicing. On the rare occasion she comes pretty close, but for the most part, not so much. Most likely she will return to school with this challenge unmet, but she is enrolled in gymnastics classes beginning in the fall — so there’s hope yet.
Anyway, back to the conspiracy. Hadley hopped from the dinner table the other day and sprinted to my chair. “Hey, MammyGrams, do you think you’ll still be here at Christmas?”
It’s a very good thing I wasn’t eating because I’m quite sure I would have choked. “I’m not sure, honey. Why?”
“No reason,” and off she went.
From my seat I heard her say, “Mommy,” two times and Hannah’s response, “Just a minute Hads, I’m talking to Auntie J.” When it was time for Hadley to get a word in edgewise, I heard, “MammyGrams might not be here at Christmas, but I want to get her …” That’s it. That’s all I heard from Hadley, but from Hannah I heard, “I think we can do that.”
So I’m in for a treat!
And so are you!!!!!
I promised I would present the final letters from the Writing Challenge, and a few stragglers from the Heavenly Choice writing assignment. I use the word ‘assignment’ because I saw this back and forth on FB and thought it was a hoot.
Sheila Lavallee Westerlind: OMG, this is so stressful.
Kathleen Lavallee Budgell: I know! I changed my mind ten times. Except for Dad, of course.
Sheila: Well of course Dad. Plus, I can’t believe Sheryll is giving us homework.
Kathy: No kidding.
Sheryll O’Brien: This back and forth cracked me up, at 4:30 in the morning, laughing like a damned fool. Thank you Frick and Frack!
Now for the Writing Challenge letters.
# 25. This letter came inside a large envelope that included a handmade card of seashells and butterflies, and an activity booklet for Hadley.
Sheryll,
I’m sorry this is so late. I wanted to tell you again that I am so happy we have re-connected and wish it had been earlier. I have great memories of our early years. I am honored by your generosity and that you have allowed me to accompany you on this journey. Your recollection of me in your blog was very special. I sobbed reading it! You will always have a special place in my heart and you will never be forgotten. I don’t know how many people you have touched with your blogs but I’m sure it has been many! Every time I eat a Figgie I think of you. They are getting hard to find lately – I think people are buying them in your honor. I love your memories of your beloved Meme! I was lucky to have a special connection with my Gram. When she retired and spent her winters in Florida, we had a Thursday night ritual. Every week, I called her at 8:00 PM and we talked for an hour. Then we hung up and both of us watched Matlock – a favorite for both of us. Sadly, she passed away in May of 1994. I also had a nice relationship with my Memere in Northern Maine. Every July, we went to visit her and Pepere for 2 weeks. She was a wonderful person, but we lost her in 1993. I don’t know if you saw my sister’s post on Sunday. She, my brother-in-law, Mom and I met our cousin and her son in Connecticut. She had done a lot of research and wrote a 642 page book about our paternal side of the family. My sister gifted me with a copy as an early Christmas present. I have several beloved aunts and uncles and 31 cousins. One of my uncles and his wife relocated from Connecticut to Wells. I treasure the book and the memories it brought back! I don’t know how or when this journey will end but I will be here for you as long as it is! I have faith that we will meet on the other side – that gives me peace. I wish you the best on the rest of this journey! I love you my friend and I am so honored to have known you and shared some great memories. I hope this isn’t too long and that I didn’t bore you. Love ~ Sue Rohr
You absolutely never bore me.
I cannot imagine the work it took to research and write such a book. What dedication!
Reading that sucker will require lots of tea and tons of Figgies.
You’d better stock up, KoKo!
# 26. This letter came in a notecard with a black and white drawing of Montauk Lighthouse. From that presentation alone, I knew we were off to a very good start.
Dear Sheryll,
Here is my reply to your request, (I’ll try to keep it brief). Except for the 4 years after I married I’ve been a Webster Square kid. I grew up at 172 Heard Street and moved back 7 houses away at 233. I met my husband at Big Boys (our hangout) in 1970 and became friends. I thought he was a great person so I fixed him up with a few friends not knowing he liked me! When I became available (HAHA!) we started dating and 21 months later married in OLA church. Best decision I ever made and we were blessed with three sons. Our family now consists of 3 wonderful daughters-in-law and 8 grandchildren. My friend Marianne told me about Eileen’s facebook post of your blog and I have been a fan ever since. I binge-read all your books which I thoroughly enjoyed as you know. I am in awe of your writing skill, but you have touched my heart deeply with your blogs … your honesty, courage, and grace astounded me. You are an inspiration to so many people and I am forever grateful to be one of them. Thank you Sheryll from the bottom of my heart. P.S. Blow a kiss to Hadley for me. She is a hoot! Love and peace. Your friend and fan. ~ Kathy Fanning Dacri
We 01603 broads tend to stay put in that zip code.
I suspect everyone of us can connect by playing the six steps to Kevin Bacon game.
I’ll start. Are you related to Gig Fanning?
I’ll wait for your email.
Love and peace.
# 27. This letter came with an adorable craft of me and Hadley. I laughed until I cried — a boatload of ugly tears. It was a wonderful experience brought on by someone I don’t even know.
Dear Sheryll,
My dear cousin, Nancy, (aka “sister-cuz” aka “The Goddess”) introduced me to your books and then your blog. I’m a retired teacher/teacher trainer and specialized in the field of blindness. However, my most treasured life role has been as “The Caregiver” – long stints with each of my parents and a very brief but quite special time with my sister-in-law. What a joy and privilege it was to help the people I dearly loved. Now that my role as caregiver is gone, I find myself in a strange, surreal limbo between worlds – what was and what may be. Being stuck is no fun and no good. You’ve written that your blog was to help you process this part of your life’s story and to help others to cope with the loss of loved ones. You’ve nailed it!! The blog has truly helped me process tremendous loss and grief. A confession is in order here – I plead guilty to re-reading all of your blogs more than once. Glutton for punishment by playing Emotional Minesweeper? Wanting to remember so many of your one-liners that are actually clever, multi-layered, thought provokers? Whatever the reasons, though, they have encouraged me to move forward and look for the moments that produce the best kaleidoscope images. In blog #10, Hope Floats, you quoted: “Endings are usually bad, beginnings are scary, but it’s what’s in the middle that counts.” My kaleidoscope is madly turning and makes me hopeful that I’ve done a great “middle” like you. This rambling note is being written on the eve of your “meeting” so I’m thinking of you and your family with much love. P.S. The enclosed elementary level (preschool level?) collage represents an image that has kept popping up in my mind. I’d have drawn it but that would have been way more laughable than the amateurish collage. The recliner isn’t your buff-colored wonder, but it’s bovine-placenta colored furniture. If only the super-de-duper recliner you have had fold-out wings to whisk you to the beach one last time. ~ Deborah Thompson (aka Debi, aka Caregiver Turned ??)
Creativity runs deep in the Pendleton pool!
I am happily processing the gifts you mentioned finding in my blogs.
And yes, my intent was to work through my feelings and hopefully help in some way.
And. Then. This. Happened.
I met people from all over the world who share this thing called loss and include me in their life stories.
Bless them all!
# 28. This letter came by email and by threat of force. My wonderful brother needed a little prodding to get his ass in gear. He really wanted to comply with the ‘writing’ part of this exercise. Apparently, he sent an email version so I could get it into this blog and also put one in the mail. Gotta love him — I do.
Sheryll,
You'll receive my handwritten letter at 183 shortly. Your brother: Vagabond? Drifter? You decide. Ran into 2 college buddies, they explained they were working up in NH and that I may be interested in the same. Year 1978, and after a brief interview, I packed a 1961 Caddy coupe and headed out of state for employment at the Seabrook Nuclear Power Plant in Seabrook, NH. This development and the details listed below are some of the information you may need to answer the question I raised in the title of this letter. The following are the places where I lived, with roommates mind you, which would make for an extremely interesting topic all on its own, believe you me, but this is about the moves. First stop North Beach at Hampton Beach, NH, after 2 months there I moved in with new roommates in New Market, NH, after some time there we all moved to Fremont, NH and spent a year in a log house, (pig roast). Yes, the very same place you visited and should remember fondly. Next stop for all of us was North Hampton, NH and after a few weeks there we all moved again to a nicer place in North Hampton, NH, after sometime there I moved to Seabrook, NH. It's now 1984 and 8 of us in an 8 car caravan headed out to the Braidwood Nuclear Power Plant in Braidwood, IL, at the end of our project and 5 months spent there it's back to the SNPP in NH and with it my move to Rye, NH. 1986 and an end of my employment at SNPP sent me to a 4 year stay until July of 1990 in Chicopee, MA. So, in a twelve-year span if you have been keeping track, are 9 different moves. Keep in mind with every move there is doubt, and a lot of physical labor ahead, and change of addresses with the postal services, DMV visits, friendships sometimes left behind as well as relationships that may not withstand distances, and sometimes, with a new move, an unexpected excitement with starting fresh. Year 1990, a young man and young woman took the ultimate leap, they packed up everything they owned and moved from Chicopee, MA to Rome, GA. After thirty-two years living here; thirty-one as Mr. and Mrs., your brother and sister-in-law Denise have built a home circa 2000 and have finally taken a chill pill. Vagabond? Drifter? - a person who wanders from place to place without a home or job, I may not meet the criteria for either, but I sure did drift. Lovingly ~ Donnie
When you began your vagabond days you left a huge hole in our family. With the women of our family.
The Golden Boy was gone.
If memory serves me well, Meme kept a running list of where you landed. A daunting exercise, for sure.
#29. Another emailer. With everything this one has going on, I gladly accept her submission!
Dear Auntie,
I'll start by giving your readers a little information about me and how I became part of this fabulous family. I was a foster child to my mom, Marjorie and my dad, Ken when I was six years old. I officially became a McCarthy when I was adopted at nine years old. I was now part of this incredible new family with a Mom, Dad, Brother, Grammy, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins. I knew how blessed I was! Now I am married to an amazing man, Josh and we have two beautuful girls, Evelyn and Olivia. We have a loveable dog named Gretta and the cutest cat, Lady Z. Plus, we have lots of chickens, ducks and geese. We have a beautiful homestead with land for our girls to explore and have plenty of fun. It was our biggest dream to give our girls an old fashioned country life. I know how blessed I am! I love you Auntie! ~ Nicole
Without question, the most vivacious member of our family. The room comes alive when Nicole walks in — actually, it comes alive long before that because her laugh can be heard from a mile away.
You were meant to be ours.
# 30. This letter also came via email, but Marchrie gets a pass since she’s yet to get her penmanship totally back.
My Dear Sister Sheryll,
Many recent nights, I’ve taken a trip down memory lane when Donnie, you and I were three Columbus Park kids growing up at 10 Hobson Ave. Fondly reminiscing about our childhood days has brought so much joy. I've been waking up precisely between 3:00-3:30 a.m. I've never been one to vividly remember my dreams or nightmares as anything more than pleasing colorful visions or scrambled flashes of nonsensical images. But lately I've been remembering every dream like a movie reel with the precision and beauty of a kaleidoscope. These dreams are of a childhood time and place that Donnie, you and I hold dear to our hearts. A time when family togetherness held more significance and a place where our Dreams Came True... Welch's Grove Campground. I'd like to share a few examples of my dreams that left me waking with warmth and inner happiness. Swimming for hours in the crystal clear spring fed water, having handstand, summersalt and backward flip competitions. Hanging out at the sandpit. You ask why? Well that's a good question so is the question as to why there was a big sand pit in the first place. Nevertheless, we all hung out there doing a whole lot of nothing but sitting on the picnic table shooting the breeze. Swimming out to the wraft where you and I sunbathed for hours. By the way...we were definitely not waiting for the cute boys from across the grove to ride by in their boats. Waking up to a herd of cows wandering the campground. Remember our surprise peeking out the window and seeing a huge cow staring back at us. Hanging out for hours at the Big Rock, swimming, fishing, bathing and the occasional skinny dipping escapades... (So I've heard). Don diving too deep and being rushed to the hospital where he subsequently had internal and external sutures. Chasing and catching fireflies in mason jars. Don succeeding at barefoot water skiing. I preferred slalom and you preferred sitting comfortably in the boat as the spotter. Sitting at our campfire telling scary stories, roasting hotdogs and toasting marshmallows, and sharing sibling time! The nightly trundle bed debacles. Field day success with Don winning the pie eating contest, you the Hula Hoop contest, Mom the corn shucking contest and I won the cribbage tournament. Hanging down at the basketball court where the occasional romances and "first kisses'' took place. Me knee deep in mucky frog ponds catching bullfrogs. The occasional apple stealing... oops, I mean picking. The day you left our campsite with waist length hair and returned with a short, and I mean short hair. You strutted in owning the new stylish cut and Mom freaking out and asking, "Who cut our hair?" My personal interpretation is that these dreams come to me because my mind and heart are open; the dream/memories have emotional and spiritual meanings, and are part of our happiest days. Sheryll, I love you today, tomorrow and forever! Love your kid sister ~ Marjorie
Good grief!
Your memory lane has so much stuff on it you might trip and flip on your ass. Please no repeat of that!
You were the easiest kid sister to have and I sure do wish we had more time together.
Like always, I’ll lead the way for you.
I love you, Marchrie!
Heavenly Choices
~~ Don already sent his choices. As for me I would not have to seek for very long because my Mom, who is the family member I'd most like to see, will probably be stuck right up Elvis's ass. I could kill two birds with one stone so to speak. My Mom, sister and I visited Graceland a few years back and I would like to tell him so. ~ Love Denise
~~ I assume if I were to pass today, the ‘who’ you are asking about are already there, so that is how I am going to respond. If it's way out in the future I might want to amend my responses. Anyways, as far as a bigshot I'll go with Sean Connery. I loved him. Everything he did he did well; the Bond series, my favorite recurring movie series of all time; and he was fabulous in The Rock. I have so many questions about the Bond girls.
Honorable mentions: George Washington, The Three Stooges and Natalie Wood. Do I have to explain why Natalie? Probably not. As far as a friend, someone I'd like to spend time with, Meme, we have so much to catch up on and I need closure. I was in Chicago upon her passing. Hope you likey ~ Your Big Brother Donnie
~~ Dear Sheryll, I'm sorry this is late, but I decided I'd send it anyway. I would love to meet Vincent Van Gogh. He is my favorite painter and I just love his work. The next is easy, my husband.
And I wouldn't mind bumping into you and thanking you again for the impact your blog had made on me and so many others. Maybe we could have a cup of tea and chat. ~ Lisa Oslowski
~~ Sorry, I forgot to write this last week. The famous dead person I would love to meet would be JFK, Jr. First, because the superficial side of me would like to look at him- he was so freaking handsome. He had such a privileged/not privileged life- I often wondered how he stayed grounded. Such conflicted worlds- money, status, entitlement- but also shattered reality at 3 years of age losing his dad, wonder how his mom endured during those early years of widowhood, in disbelief….probably followed by paparazzi his entire life- no privacy- the price for fame and fortune…then- poof- taken from this world- just like that…. There was something out of the ordinary about his looks, good nature, and charm…… As far as family goes- my sister Maureen- first and foremost- she died a little over a year ago at 68, complications from a blood infection… on the tail end of Covid restrictions in hospitals- was in the ER for a week- no visitors, then only one per day for two weeks…. Horrific…. I miss her beyond words….She was beautiful, extremely intelligent, kind, beset with some mental health issues, but worked as a social worker for 30 years, and truly walked the walk, befriending homeless people, generous to a fault….earned an MBA with a 4.0 while working full time- but married a first class jerk- who broke her heart- and that basically “did her in” as the saying goes. She never fully recovered from her divorce. We talked every day- and I really really miss her. If there is a heaven- I know she’s there…
I also really miss my mum and my dad, and would love to be with them again. They both lived fairly long lives- though my dad was only 77 when he died in 2003. He was handsome, charming, loving and always happy. My mum was beautiful, very healthy pretty much until her death in 2010 at the age of 87. She was a force, very progressive thinker. They both worked really hard, were devout Catholics, and all in all, had a pretty good life. They both were blessed with quick deaths- and no real major health issues. But I’d give anything for one more hug…… so there you have it… and yes, I do believe there’s a heaven- at least, I sure hope so. God bless and Happy Trails ~ Jody Valade
And now a little surprise.
Something written by my mother.
Here we are in this Modern Age where sometimes we don't get to know our neighbors. This is not always true - case in point;
On one of our lovely Sunday visits with Sheryll, Marjorie and I were delighted with her enthusiastic news that she received her very first letter in response to her letter writing request. This first letter writer indicated she follows Sheryll's blogs and admired Sheryll greatly. This writer said she is our neighbor, lives around the corner, and hopes to someday meet Marjorie and me.
This lovely lady, Gail Burgess of Mayfield Street, Auburn MA, approached us on our driveway as we came home from an errand. She introduced herself and told us how she admires Sheryll's faith and ability to reach so many people from literally everywhere with her honest accounts of her journey in her blogs. Gail is a warm, friendly, personable woman full of grace. Marjorie and I were deeply touched that Gail introduced herself. This adventure of meeting this lovely woman came to us through our darling Sheryll.