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Nursing: HICKS, Sybil Marie (nee Lyons) It hurts me to admit it... but , Mrs. Ron Hicks from Baysville, have passed away. I passed peacefully with my eldest daughter, Brenda, by my side February 2, 2019 at 8:20 a.m. I leave behind my loving husband, Ron Hicks, whom I often affectionately referred to as a "Horse's Ass". I also left behind my children whom I tolerated over the years; Bob (with Carol) my oldest son and also my favourite. Brian (with Ginette) who was the Oreo cookie favourite, Brenda AKA "Hazel" who would run to clean the bathrooms when she heard company was coming. Barbara (with Gordon) the ever Miss Perfect and finally Baby Bruce who wouldn't eat homemade turkey soup because he didn't want to be alert looking for bones while he ate. I will miss seeing my sweetest grandchildren; Caitlin, Megan, Joel, Issac Mason, Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Choe, Orion, Griffin ...grow up to be the incredible people they are meant to be I graduated from Waterdown High School with honors while wearing my shiny bright saddle shoes. I later graduated from Hamilton General Hospital School Nursing class of 1957B -Best Class EVER! In 1972 Ron and I loaded the car with the 5- B's and headed north to run a school bus company for over 20 years in Baysville, Ontario. I was an active horticulturalist, a member of the Eastern Star and a member of the Lion's Club in Baysville. I finally have the smoking hot body I have always wanted... . having been cremated. Please come say goodbye and celebrate my wonderful life with my husband and his special friend Dorothy who is now lovingly taking care of my horse's ass For those of you who are wondering who assisted me in writing this. it wasn't my husband, it wasn't my oldest, nor was it my youngest... Thank you all for sharing my life with me. I am off to swim to the buoy and back Love, Sybil This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life
Nursing: HICKS, Sybil Marie (nee Lyons) It hurts me to admit it... but , Mrs. Ron Hicks from Baysville, have passed away. I passed peacefully with my eldest daughter, Brenda, by my side February 2, 2019 at 8:20 a.m. I leave behind my loving husband, Ron Hicks, whom I often affectionately referred to as a "Horse's Ass". I also left behind my children whom I tolerated over the years; Bob (with Carol) my oldest son and also my favourite. Brian (with Ginette) who was the Oreo cookie favourite, Brenda AKA "Hazel" who would run to clean the bathrooms when she heard company was coming. Barbara (with Gordon) the ever Miss Perfect and finally Baby Bruce who wouldn't eat homemade turkey soup because he didn't want to be alert looking for bones while he ate. I will miss seeing my sweetest grandchildren; Caitlin, Megan, Joel, Issac Mason, Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Choe, Orion, Griffin ...grow up to be the incredible people they are meant to be I graduated from Waterdown High School with honors while wearing my shiny bright saddle shoes. I later graduated from Hamilton General Hospital School Nursing class of 1957B -Best Class EVER! In 1972 Ron and I loaded the car with the 5- B's and headed north to run a school bus company for over 20 years in Baysville, Ontario. I was an active horticulturalist, a member of the Eastern Star and a member of the Lion's Club in Baysville. I finally have the smoking hot body I have always wanted... . having been cremated. Please come say goodbye and celebrate my wonderful life with my husband and his special friend Dorothy who is now lovingly taking care of my horse's ass For those of you who are wondering who assisted me in writing this. it wasn't my husband, it wasn't my oldest, nor was it my youngest... Thank you all for sharing my life with me. I am off to swim to the buoy and back Love, Sybil This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life

This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life

Nursing: HICKS, Sybil Marie (nee Lyons) It hurts me to admit it... but , Mrs. Ron Hicks from Baysville, have passed away. I passed peacefully with my eldest daughter, Brenda, by my side February 2, 2019 at 8:20 a.m. I leave behind my loving husband, Ron Hicks, whom I often affectionately referred to as a "Horse's Ass". I also left behind my children whom I tolerated over the years; Bob (with Carol) my oldest son and also my favourite. Brian (with Ginette) who was the Oreo cookie favourite, Brenda AKA "Hazel" who would run to clean the bathrooms when she heard company was coming. Barbara (with Gordon) the ever Miss Perfect and finally Baby Bruce who wouldn't eat homemade turkey soup because he didn't want to be alert looking for bones while he ate. I will miss seeing my sweetest grandchildren; Caitlin, Megan, Joel, Issac Mason, Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Choe, Orion, Griffin ...grow up to be the incredible people they are meant to be I graduated from Waterdown High School with honors while wearing my shiny bright saddle shoes. I later graduated from Hamilton General Hospital School Nursing class of 1957B -Best Class EVER! In 1972 Ron and I loaded the car with the 5- B's and headed north to run a school bus company for over 20 years in Baysville, Ontario. I was an active horticulturalist, a member of the Eastern Star and a member of the Lion's Club in Baysville. I finally have the smoking hot body I have always wanted... . having been cremated. Please come say goodbye and celebrate my wonderful life with my husband and his special friend Dorothy who is now lovingly taking care of my horse's ass For those of you who are wondering who assisted me in writing this. it wasn't my husband, it wasn't my oldest, nor was it my youngest... Thank you all for sharing my life with me. I am off to swim to the buoy and back Love, Sybil This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life
Nursing: HICKS, Sybil Marie (nee Lyons) It hurts me to admit it... but , Mrs. Ron Hicks from Baysville, have passed away. I passed peacefully with my eldest daughter, Brenda, by my side February 2, 2019 at 8:20 a.m. I leave behind my loving husband, Ron Hicks, whom I often affectionately referred to as a "Horse's Ass". I also left behind my children whom I tolerated over the years; Bob (with Carol) my oldest son and also my favourite. Brian (with Ginette) who was the Oreo cookie favourite, Brenda AKA "Hazel" who would run to clean the bathrooms when she heard company was coming. Barbara (with Gordon) the ever Miss Perfect and finally Baby Bruce who wouldn't eat homemade turkey soup because he didn't want to be alert looking for bones while he ate. I will miss seeing my sweetest grandchildren; Caitlin, Megan, Joel, Issac Mason, Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Choe, Orion, Griffin ...grow up to be the incredible people they are meant to be I graduated from Waterdown High School with honors while wearing my shiny bright saddle shoes. I later graduated from Hamilton General Hospital School Nursing class of 1957B -Best Class EVER! In 1972 Ron and I loaded the car with the 5- B's and headed north to run a school bus company for over 20 years in Baysville, Ontario. I was an active horticulturalist, a member of the Eastern Star and a member of the Lion's Club in Baysville. I finally have the smoking hot body I have always wanted... . having been cremated. Please come say goodbye and celebrate my wonderful life with my husband and his special friend Dorothy who is now lovingly taking care of my horse's ass For those of you who are wondering who assisted me in writing this. it wasn't my husband, it wasn't my oldest, nor was it my youngest... Thank you all for sharing my life with me. I am off to swim to the buoy and back Love, Sybil This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life

This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life

Nursing: HICKS, Sybil Marie (nee Lyons) It hurts me to admit it... but , Mrs. Ron Hicks from Baysville, have passed away. I passed peacefully with my eldest daughter, Brenda, by my side February 2, 2019 at 8:20 a.m. I leave behind my loving husband, Ron Hicks, whom I often affectionately referred to as a "Horse's Ass". I also left behind my children whom I tolerated over the years; Bob (with Carol) my oldest son and also my favourite. Brian (with Ginette) who was the Oreo cookie favourite, Brenda AKA "Hazel" who would run to clean the bathrooms when she heard company was coming. Barbara (with Gordon) the ever Miss Perfect and finally Baby Bruce who wouldn't eat homemade turkey soup because he didn't want to be alert looking for bones while he ate. I will miss seeing my sweetest grandchildren; Caitlin, Megan, Joel, Issac Mason, Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Choe, Orion, Griffin ...grow up to be the incredible people they are meant to be I graduated from Waterdown High School with honors while wearing my shiny bright saddle shoes. I later graduated from Hamilton General Hospital School Nursing class of 1957B -Best Class EVER! In 1972 Ron and I loaded the car with the 5- B's and headed north to run a school bus company for over 20 years in Baysville, Ontario. I was an active horticulturalist, a member of the Eastern Star and a member of the Lion's Club in Baysville. I finally have the smoking hot body I have always wanted... . having been cremated. Please come say goodbye and celebrate my wonderful life with my husband and his special friend Dorothy who is now lovingly taking care of my horse's ass For those of you who are wondering who assisted me in writing this. it wasn't my husband, it wasn't my oldest, nor was it my youngest... Thank you all for sharing my life with me. I am off to swim to the buoy and back Love, Sybil This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life
Nursing: HICKS, Sybil Marie (nee Lyons) It hurts me to admit it... but , Mrs. Ron Hicks from Baysville, have passed away. I passed peacefully with my eldest daughter, Brenda, by my side February 2, 2019 at 8:20 a.m. I leave behind my loving husband, Ron Hicks, whom I often affectionately referred to as a "Horse's Ass". I also left behind my children whom I tolerated over the years; Bob (with Carol) my oldest son and also my favourite. Brian (with Ginette) who was the Oreo cookie favourite, Brenda AKA "Hazel" who would run to clean the bathrooms when she heard company was coming. Barbara (with Gordon) the ever Miss Perfect and finally Baby Bruce who wouldn't eat homemade turkey soup because he didn't want to be alert looking for bones while he ate. I will miss seeing my sweetest grandchildren; Caitlin, Megan, Joel, Issac Mason, Rachel, Annie, Emma, Harrison, Clark, Choe, Orion, Griffin ...grow up to be the incredible people they are meant to be I graduated from Waterdown High School with honors while wearing my shiny bright saddle shoes. I later graduated from Hamilton General Hospital School Nursing class of 1957B -Best Class EVER! In 1972 Ron and I loaded the car with the 5- B's and headed north to run a school bus company for over 20 years in Baysville, Ontario. I was an active horticulturalist, a member of the Eastern Star and a member of the Lion's Club in Baysville. I finally have the smoking hot body I have always wanted... . having been cremated. Please come say goodbye and celebrate my wonderful life with my husband and his special friend Dorothy who is now lovingly taking care of my horse's ass For those of you who are wondering who assisted me in writing this. it wasn't my husband, it wasn't my oldest, nor was it my youngest... Thank you all for sharing my life with me. I am off to swim to the buoy and back Love, Sybil This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life

This womans obituary (Hamilton Spectator) proves that in death, she is funnier than I am in life

Nursing: 88% 9:31 AM rainnecassidy If you're old enough to remember it, you just lost The Game. raggedyanndy proncus I have no idea what's going on here witchaj Back in the early aughts, when many mil- lenials were in high school, before Facebook and Youtube, The Game began. No one knows who started it, but the moment we learned we were playing it, we began to lose. The goal of The Game is to forget you are playing The Game for as long as possible. The rules The Game are as follows: Everyone is ays playing The Game all the time; at school, during breakfast, at night when you are asleep, etc. The Game never ends. The moment you remember that you are playing The Game, you lose and must immediately announce to those around you, "I just lost The Game!" thus making them remember they are also playing The Game and causing them to lose as well. Upon losing, you begin The Game again. Sometimes players could go weeks or months without losing, sometimes only minutes. At the height of The Game's popularity, it became common to see people at events such as Comic Con or midnight movie premieres, wearing t-shirts proclaiming You just lost The Game!" Once they were noticed, groans and shouts of "Fuck you!" could be heard for miles. These people rived on the chaos, taking great pleasure in the cries of their victims. Most people eventually grew bored of The Game, and many began to claim they won by choosing not to care about it anymore. Some rely on a particular XKCD comic strip or Tumblr post to lend a sense of legitimacy to their feeli of victory. They are fools. It is impossible to win The Game. There is only losing. Only a few diehards remain loyal to the rules. The drop in popularity has allowed many to keep m losing The Game for years at a time. The growth of social media has caused a minor resurgence, although without the satisfaction of real time auditory feedback when caus others to lose, The Game will likely fade back into obscurity once again. Someday whern we are old and gray, our grandchildren will innocently ask us to play a game of checkers, and we will shriek and shout until the whole nursing home joins us in defeat. Death is the only release from The Game Source: rainnecassidy #101 #goshi remember this #but also Is this loss?
Nursing: 88% 9:31 AM rainnecassidy If you're old enough to remember it, you just lost The Game. raggedyanndy proncus I have no idea what's going on here witchaj Back in the early aughts, when many mil- lenials were in high school, before Facebook and Youtube, The Game began. No one knows who started it, but the moment we learned we were playing it, we began to lose. The goal of The Game is to forget you are playing The Game for as long as possible. The rules The Game are as follows: Everyone is ays playing The Game all the time; at school, during breakfast, at night when you are asleep, etc. The Game never ends. The moment you remember that you are playing The Game, you lose and must immediately announce to those around you, "I just lost The Game!" thus making them remember they are also playing The Game and causing them to lose as well. Upon losing, you begin The Game again. Sometimes players could go weeks or months without losing, sometimes only minutes. At the height of The Game's popularity, it became common to see people at events such as Comic Con or midnight movie premieres, wearing t-shirts proclaiming You just lost The Game!" Once they were noticed, groans and shouts of "Fuck you!" could be heard for miles. These people rived on the chaos, taking great pleasure in the cries of their victims. Most people eventually grew bored of The Game, and many began to claim they won by choosing not to care about it anymore. Some rely on a particular XKCD comic strip or Tumblr post to lend a sense of legitimacy to their feeli of victory. They are fools. It is impossible to win The Game. There is only losing. Only a few diehards remain loyal to the rules. The drop in popularity has allowed many to keep m losing The Game for years at a time. The growth of social media has caused a minor resurgence, although without the satisfaction of real time auditory feedback when caus others to lose, The Game will likely fade back into obscurity once again. Someday whern we are old and gray, our grandchildren will innocently ask us to play a game of checkers, and we will shriek and shout until the whole nursing home joins us in defeat. Death is the only release from The Game Source: rainnecassidy #101 #goshi remember this #but also Is this loss?

Is this loss?

Nursing: Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery On yeah, every time that dad forgets mom is dead, we head to the cemetery so he can see her gravestone. WHAT I can't tell you how many times I've heard some version of this awful story. Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery Seniously, I cringe every single time someone tells me about their plan" to remind a loved one that their loved one is dead I also hear this a lot: 1 keep reminding mom that her sister is dead, and sometimes she recalls it once I've said it. That's still not a good thing. Why are we trying to force people to remember that their loved ones have passed away? If your loved one with dementia has lost track of their timeline, and forgoten that a loved one is dead, don't remind them. What's the point of reintroducing that kind of pain? Here's the thing they will forget again, and they will ask again. You're never, ever, ever, going to "convince them of something permanently Instead, do this Dad, where do you think mom is? When he tells you the answer, repeat that answer to him and assert that it sounds correct. For example, it he says, "1 think mom is at work,"say, "Yes, that sounds right, I think she must be at work. it he says, 1 think she passed away say, Yes, she passed away People like the answer that they gave you. Also, it takes you off the hook to come up with something" that satisfies them. Then, twenty minutes later when they ask where mom is, repeat what they originally told you drgaellon I support this sentiment. Repeatedly reminding someone with faulty memory that a loved one has died isn't a kindness, it's a cruelty. They have to relieve the loss every time, even if they don't remember the grief 15 minutes later In other words, don't try to impose your timeline on them in order to make yourself feel better. Correcting an afflicted dementia patient will not cure them They won't magically return to your real world'. No matter how much you might want them to. It's a kindness of old age, forgetting. Life can be very painful. Don't be the one ripping off the bandage every single time prismatic-bell I used to work as a companion in a nursing home where one of the patients was CONVINCED I was her sister, who'd died 40 years earlier. And every time one of the nurses said דhat's not Janet, Janet is dead, Alice, remember?" Alice would start sobbing So finally one day Alice did the whole JANET IS HERE and this nurse rather nastily went Janet is dead and before it could go any furtherI said "excuse mer?? How dare you say something so horrible to my sister?" The nurse was pissed, because I was feeding Alice's delusions. Alice didn't have delusions. Alice had Alzheimer's. But I made sure it went into Alice's chart that she responded positively to being allowed to believe I was Janet. And from that point forward, only my specific patient referred to me as-Nina. in front of Alice-everyone else called me Janet. and when Alice said my name wasn't Nina I just said "oh, it's a nickname, that's all."It kept her calm and happy and not sobbing every time she saw me It costs zero dollars (and maybe a little bit of fast thinking) to not be an asshole to someone wah Alzheimer's or dementia. Be kind I wish I had heard this stuft when Grandma was still here satr9 I read once that you have to treat dementia patilents more like it's improv, like you have to take what they say and say to yourself ok, and" and give them more of a story to occupy them and not just shut it down with something super harsh A nurse I used to work with always told us: Tf a man with dementia is trying to get out of bed to go to work, don't tell him he's 90 and in a nursing home. Tell him it's Sunday and he can stay in bed. If a woman with dementia is trying to stand because she wants to get her husband's dinner out of the oven, don't tel her he's been dead for 20 years. Tell her you'll do for her and she can sit back down Always remembered that, always did it. Nothing worse than hearing someone with memory loss ask the same question over and over again only to be met with: "We already told youl" Just tell them again steel-phoenix I've worked with elderly dementia patients, and I agree with all the above. Treat them as you'd like to be treated in the same situation ruby-white-rabbit Same. I've worked with patients like these and even my grandma was convinced for a day that I was my aunt. Just roll with it lazulisong My go-to response to someone asking if I've seen a dead loved one is "I haven't seen them today, but if I do I'll let them know you were looking for them. Cause you know what, if I DID see them I wouild tell them, so it always comes out sounding truthtul Source dementiabyday.com 99.289 notes PSA for those whose loved ones have dementia
Nursing: Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery On yeah, every time that dad forgets mom is dead, we head to the cemetery so he can see her gravestone. WHAT I can't tell you how many times I've heard some version of this awful story. Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery Seniously, I cringe every single time someone tells me about their plan" to remind a loved one that their loved one is dead I also hear this a lot: 1 keep reminding mom that her sister is dead, and sometimes she recalls it once I've said it. That's still not a good thing. Why are we trying to force people to remember that their loved ones have passed away? If your loved one with dementia has lost track of their timeline, and forgoten that a loved one is dead, don't remind them. What's the point of reintroducing that kind of pain? Here's the thing they will forget again, and they will ask again. You're never, ever, ever, going to "convince them of something permanently Instead, do this Dad, where do you think mom is? When he tells you the answer, repeat that answer to him and assert that it sounds correct. For example, it he says, "1 think mom is at work,"say, "Yes, that sounds right, I think she must be at work. it he says, 1 think she passed away say, Yes, she passed away People like the answer that they gave you. Also, it takes you off the hook to come up with something" that satisfies them. Then, twenty minutes later when they ask where mom is, repeat what they originally told you drgaellon I support this sentiment. Repeatedly reminding someone with faulty memory that a loved one has died isn't a kindness, it's a cruelty. They have to relieve the loss every time, even if they don't remember the grief 15 minutes later In other words, don't try to impose your timeline on them in order to make yourself feel better. Correcting an afflicted dementia patient will not cure them They won't magically return to your real world'. No matter how much you might want them to. It's a kindness of old age, forgetting. Life can be very painful. Don't be the one ripping off the bandage every single time prismatic-bell I used to work as a companion in a nursing home where one of the patients was CONVINCED I was her sister, who'd died 40 years earlier. And every time one of the nurses said דhat's not Janet, Janet is dead, Alice, remember?" Alice would start sobbing So finally one day Alice did the whole JANET IS HERE and this nurse rather nastily went Janet is dead and before it could go any furtherI said "excuse mer?? How dare you say something so horrible to my sister?" The nurse was pissed, because I was feeding Alice's delusions. Alice didn't have delusions. Alice had Alzheimer's. But I made sure it went into Alice's chart that she responded positively to being allowed to believe I was Janet. And from that point forward, only my specific patient referred to me as-Nina. in front of Alice-everyone else called me Janet. and when Alice said my name wasn't Nina I just said "oh, it's a nickname, that's all."It kept her calm and happy and not sobbing every time she saw me It costs zero dollars (and maybe a little bit of fast thinking) to not be an asshole to someone wah Alzheimer's or dementia. Be kind I wish I had heard this stuft when Grandma was still here satr9 I read once that you have to treat dementia patilents more like it's improv, like you have to take what they say and say to yourself ok, and" and give them more of a story to occupy them and not just shut it down with something super harsh A nurse I used to work with always told us: Tf a man with dementia is trying to get out of bed to go to work, don't tell him he's 90 and in a nursing home. Tell him it's Sunday and he can stay in bed. If a woman with dementia is trying to stand because she wants to get her husband's dinner out of the oven, don't tel her he's been dead for 20 years. Tell her you'll do for her and she can sit back down Always remembered that, always did it. Nothing worse than hearing someone with memory loss ask the same question over and over again only to be met with: "We already told youl" Just tell them again steel-phoenix I've worked with elderly dementia patients, and I agree with all the above. Treat them as you'd like to be treated in the same situation ruby-white-rabbit Same. I've worked with patients like these and even my grandma was convinced for a day that I was my aunt. Just roll with it lazulisong My go-to response to someone asking if I've seen a dead loved one is "I haven't seen them today, but if I do I'll let them know you were looking for them. Cause you know what, if I DID see them I wouild tell them, so it always comes out sounding truthtul Source dementiabyday.com 99.289 notes PSA for those whose loved ones have dementia

PSA for those whose loved ones have dementia

Nursing: The Turkey Story So it's 2001, and my family drives from fu California and like three blizzards to get to Ohio for into a nursing home and it's their last holiday in that house. So its a bit bittersweet but ultimately a good thing. Since it's their last holiday there, the family pulls out all the stops when it comes to dinner, all the Russian desserts come out, as does the Lethal Bacon Mashed Potatoes and the horrible candied yams with the mini marshmallows dish because not all expressions of love are even if they are si In the spirit of going alout, Uncle Bobby smokes a Turkey Uncle Bobby started cooking as a boy foil-wrapped potatoes into a campfire and has been ad- dicted since, and now has a hand-made smokehouse in the backyard where he makes various cured meats and other delights. He seasons the turkey in the traditional manner, but he and grandpa have a shared passion for SO Game Hen seasoned that way, for them. Then Bobby has a Brilliant Idea. He realizes that he can stuff the turkey (once it has been smoked) with regular stuffing, and there is still plenty of room for him to put the game hen inside THAT, and stuff the game hen be- cuase why not? He confers with Mom, and she explains how to cut open the turkey so there's dramatic reveal as the stuffing and game hen come out. It's Genius. Except, of course, that my Aunt Sue is attending, Uncle Cliff s after her So the day of the dinner, tensions are running a bit high, between the marathon cooking, the kids al being trapped indoors due to aforementioned blizzards, and Uncle Cliff deciding that the best way to amuse himself is by hiding from the adults in the basement, getting drunk and rambling about how various ethic groups were destroying America. Being that I had close Muslim friends that were leaving the country becuase of 9/11, 1 was near tears from this nonsense and ready to n roughly five times my size. Sue, for some reason, keeps coming down and defending him, or telling us we're rotten children for 'attacking him, becuase she Must Stand By Her Man, even if her man is a hefty bag of dog feces with an ugly mustache My sister eventually boits upstairs to tattle and my grandfather limps down to the basement and brandishes his Hip Bone Cane, hands rock-steady in spite of the Parkinson's slowly taking over him. Firstly Cliff, It may not be my roof much longer but while you are under it you will be civil, or Ill beat your skull in. Also, dinner's ready, everyone go wash up. We go upstairs and sit down, and do the traditional "Name one thing you're thankful for as the bread gets passed around the table, and things calm down a bit. Bobby brings out the Turkey and everyone goes OOH becuase it's really pretty, them Mom carves it open so that the stuffing spills out dramatically along with the game hen and there's an appreciative gasp all around becuase it looks cool. Only Sue KEEPS gasping, in utter horror, before getting up and clasping her hands to her face ala Edvard Munch and shrieks OH MY GOD IT WAS PREGNANTI We all stare at Sue. We all look back at the fully-dressed-cooked-and-stuffed birds that in no way had any internal organs in them or ever gave live birth Then we all looked back at Sue, trying to figure out where to begin but since shed been trying to justify Cliffs behavior she was pretty much free-associating conspiracies and scandals now, and just kept going. IT WAS PREGNANT MY GOD WE'VE COMMITTED AN ABORTION WE'RE ALL GOING TO HELL FOR THIS, I'M SO SORRY JESUS She goes into full pearl-clutching gibbering horror at this point and falls back into her chair like it's a Victorian fainting couch only it's a shitty chair from the Eisenhower administration so it collapses and she slams into the floor, sobbing and kicking her feet like a toddler Everyone watched for a moment before my Mom sighs heavily and starts carving and serving the turkey while my grandmother mouths she's not coming back Cliff, reactions delayed by about six beers, finally notices his wife is on the floor and tries to pick her up, are assisted by Dad, who is saintly patient man and less immune to this jacknapery at that point. I am stuffing dinner rolls into my face to keep from laughing at this grand spectacle ICANT EAT IT, I REFUSE TO PARTAKE IN THIS BARBARISM Sue begins but Dad puts on his best Kindly Father voice (he was heavily involved with the catholic church and even considered becoming a priest before getting drafted but that's another story)and assures Sue that she need not eat, or even be in the room if she wants. She nods, placated by being the center of attention again, and Dad goes in for the kill. I wouldn't want you to go hungry. Can I make you some That would be lovely." Said Sue, joke flying over her ng 747. I recall watching my grandmot her nearly choke to death on the green beans over that, and everyone pointedly trying to avoid talking about anything poultry-related while Sue sat there and ate the most ironic scrambled eggs in the history of mankind. Shortly thereafter, Cliff threw up in the sink and they went home, and the party got underway properly, with Grandpa raising a toast to Mom and Uncle Bobby For t Turkey has been an staple since then. I'll see if I can hit Uncle Bobby up for instructions but if you decide to make it 1. you HAVE to shriek "OH MY GOD IT WAS PREGNANT when you carve it open, or it's not authentic and won't taste as good 2. Share the pictures with me, Very planned Parenthood
Nursing: The Turkey Story So it's 2001, and my family drives from fu California and like three blizzards to get to Ohio for into a nursing home and it's their last holiday in that house. So its a bit bittersweet but ultimately a good thing. Since it's their last holiday there, the family pulls out all the stops when it comes to dinner, all the Russian desserts come out, as does the Lethal Bacon Mashed Potatoes and the horrible candied yams with the mini marshmallows dish because not all expressions of love are even if they are si In the spirit of going alout, Uncle Bobby smokes a Turkey Uncle Bobby started cooking as a boy foil-wrapped potatoes into a campfire and has been ad- dicted since, and now has a hand-made smokehouse in the backyard where he makes various cured meats and other delights. He seasons the turkey in the traditional manner, but he and grandpa have a shared passion for SO Game Hen seasoned that way, for them. Then Bobby has a Brilliant Idea. He realizes that he can stuff the turkey (once it has been smoked) with regular stuffing, and there is still plenty of room for him to put the game hen inside THAT, and stuff the game hen be- cuase why not? He confers with Mom, and she explains how to cut open the turkey so there's dramatic reveal as the stuffing and game hen come out. It's Genius. Except, of course, that my Aunt Sue is attending, Uncle Cliff s after her So the day of the dinner, tensions are running a bit high, between the marathon cooking, the kids al being trapped indoors due to aforementioned blizzards, and Uncle Cliff deciding that the best way to amuse himself is by hiding from the adults in the basement, getting drunk and rambling about how various ethic groups were destroying America. Being that I had close Muslim friends that were leaving the country becuase of 9/11, 1 was near tears from this nonsense and ready to n roughly five times my size. Sue, for some reason, keeps coming down and defending him, or telling us we're rotten children for 'attacking him, becuase she Must Stand By Her Man, even if her man is a hefty bag of dog feces with an ugly mustache My sister eventually boits upstairs to tattle and my grandfather limps down to the basement and brandishes his Hip Bone Cane, hands rock-steady in spite of the Parkinson's slowly taking over him. Firstly Cliff, It may not be my roof much longer but while you are under it you will be civil, or Ill beat your skull in. Also, dinner's ready, everyone go wash up. We go upstairs and sit down, and do the traditional "Name one thing you're thankful for as the bread gets passed around the table, and things calm down a bit. Bobby brings out the Turkey and everyone goes OOH becuase it's really pretty, them Mom carves it open so that the stuffing spills out dramatically along with the game hen and there's an appreciative gasp all around becuase it looks cool. Only Sue KEEPS gasping, in utter horror, before getting up and clasping her hands to her face ala Edvard Munch and shrieks OH MY GOD IT WAS PREGNANTI We all stare at Sue. We all look back at the fully-dressed-cooked-and-stuffed birds that in no way had any internal organs in them or ever gave live birth Then we all looked back at Sue, trying to figure out where to begin but since shed been trying to justify Cliffs behavior she was pretty much free-associating conspiracies and scandals now, and just kept going. IT WAS PREGNANT MY GOD WE'VE COMMITTED AN ABORTION WE'RE ALL GOING TO HELL FOR THIS, I'M SO SORRY JESUS She goes into full pearl-clutching gibbering horror at this point and falls back into her chair like it's a Victorian fainting couch only it's a shitty chair from the Eisenhower administration so it collapses and she slams into the floor, sobbing and kicking her feet like a toddler Everyone watched for a moment before my Mom sighs heavily and starts carving and serving the turkey while my grandmother mouths she's not coming back Cliff, reactions delayed by about six beers, finally notices his wife is on the floor and tries to pick her up, are assisted by Dad, who is saintly patient man and less immune to this jacknapery at that point. I am stuffing dinner rolls into my face to keep from laughing at this grand spectacle ICANT EAT IT, I REFUSE TO PARTAKE IN THIS BARBARISM Sue begins but Dad puts on his best Kindly Father voice (he was heavily involved with the catholic church and even considered becoming a priest before getting drafted but that's another story)and assures Sue that she need not eat, or even be in the room if she wants. She nods, placated by being the center of attention again, and Dad goes in for the kill. I wouldn't want you to go hungry. Can I make you some That would be lovely." Said Sue, joke flying over her ng 747. I recall watching my grandmot her nearly choke to death on the green beans over that, and everyone pointedly trying to avoid talking about anything poultry-related while Sue sat there and ate the most ironic scrambled eggs in the history of mankind. Shortly thereafter, Cliff threw up in the sink and they went home, and the party got underway properly, with Grandpa raising a toast to Mom and Uncle Bobby For t Turkey has been an staple since then. I'll see if I can hit Uncle Bobby up for instructions but if you decide to make it 1. you HAVE to shriek "OH MY GOD IT WAS PREGNANT when you carve it open, or it's not authentic and won't taste as good 2. Share the pictures with me, Very planned Parenthood

Very planned Parenthood