Why exactly did these particular monkeys love jumping on the bed?

For as long as I can remember, mommy has been singing a little song "5 little monkeys jumping on the bed. "She sang it to my brothers and I as children as well as when we were adults, and to her nieces M and E. The best though, was when she used to sing it to my dog Carol. It may seem odd, but when mommy used to sing it to Carol, her little tiny (pea shaped) head would explode. Mommy would sit by the edge of the bed while Carol with sleeping (on the bed, obviously). She would sing it slow, inching her fingers like little legs across the bed towards Carols face. The greatest part was hen mommy's finger would get an inch or two from Carol's face, Carol would be so excited, she'd slink the rest of the way on her belly to land a lick on Mommy's face.

On line in Borders, I tried to resist the temptation of all the crappy chotchkies along the way. As I got closer to the register, one of the chotckies was a "5 Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" card game. Random and significant beyond belief, I had to buy it, mommy wouldn't have thought twice about buying it either. I'm sending it to Aunt M to play with Baby E. I can only hope one of their little heads explodes.

Significance

We just finished decorating our Christmas tree, and it has Pammie written all over it! For one thing, I have several homemade ornaments from her children, including a little styrofoam snowman and a wreath made of beads and pipe cleaners...note that her kids are now all in their twenties! I remember loving it when she gave out those crafty gifts, because I pictured a perfect Christmas moment of kids around the table drinking hot chocolate. In reality, it was probably more like the projects we do in our house, where Emma usually leaves the table well before we're actually done. When Michael is old enough, I can picture screaming and much fighting over the Elmer's glue.

In recent years, Pam started a tradition of exchanging ornaments, but it had a catch...the ornaments you gave had to have "significance." I jokingly tried to make her define that many times, even though I knew exactly what she meant. The definition was so loose that almost anything could count, as long as you could explain it. The year that we painted garden chairs, she gave me a tiny chair ornament that was handpainted to look just like the one that was in my garden. Incidently, my sister-in-law had the same idea, and so I have several tiny chairs on the tree.

My favorite from my sis, though, is a plain wood ornament, painted to look like an Appalachain Trail sign. We had done some short hikes that year, and we often talked about how cool it would be to do a real back-country hike. I had my husband put that ornament front and center because suddenly, everything she's given me is weighted with significance. Every ornament she gave me has new meaning. Every angel is Pam watching over me, and most importantly, every bell that rings gives Pammie her wings.

The Christmas Pig

When I visited Pam a few weeks ago, we were looking through catalogs to do some Christmas shopping. In one, we found a pink peppermint pig that you're supposed to break and eat during the Christmas season for good luck. Quite a few years ago, Pam brought one of those pigs to my mom's for the Christmas Eve party with the O family. After the meatballs and shrimp, we smashed it on the slate of the front entry way. It took quite a few tries to break it, because it only comes with this teeny little hammer. She was so excited to start a new tradition, but as far as I know, we only did it that one year.

When we were talking about it, she remembered it tasting great, but I think it may have been just tolerable. In any case, one of these years (maybe even this one), I'll buy a pig and smash it for my family...and I'll remember holidays past that were full of the love of my sis.

The Title

Pam sang all kinds of songs, all the time. Some of her favorites were Girl Scout songs...I Have a Daisy on my Toe was one of her favorites. Last summer she sang it to my daughter E, who listened intently and then tried to stick a flower between her toes. :)

I have a daisy on my toe.
It is not real, it does not grow.
It's just attached
To of a flower.
It looks so real
While taking a shower.
It's on the second toe
Of my left foot.
A stemming flower
That has no root.
(No root, imagine that!)
I have a daisy on my toe.
My right food loves
My left foot so.

I looked up the lyrics and the "attached to of a flower," which never did seem to make sense, is supposed to be "a tattoo of a flower." I'll always sing it the wrong way, though.

Here's to Pammie

On November 19 I lost my big sister, after a brave, but too short fight with cancer. Not much I can say now, but I will be forever grateful that I got to spend her last moments in her beautiful presence. This is a little "family statement" that we're working on for the paper...I think it sums it up for me, for now at least.

"Pam had a kind and generous soul. When she entered a room, you could feel a spirit of beauty and an absolute love of life. Throughout her life, she gave her heart and soul to the people and animals around her. Her mission was to take care of her family and friends, and it seemed like that circle grew a little bit every day. Her co-workers, the friends of her children, people on line at the grocery store…she treated everyone she met with respect and compassion. Pam will be missed by those she left behind, and our hearts ache for those who never had the honor of knowing her."

This blog is dedicated to Pammie.