March 9, 2009

Getting Sh*t Done

Posted in Grief, Guilt, The Angry, The Just a Little Sad at 8:09 am by Dagny Taggart

I’ve given you a little bit of background about her before, but I think a recap is required, if one is going to have an understanding about just how formidable Dr. Taggart is.

English is her third language – one she started to learn at the age of ten, when her family moved here from Europe.  At that age, she already knew how to run a household – a good thing, given that she was responsible for putting dinner on the table, laundry, and most of the other normal chores while her parents worked incredibly long hours to achieve the American dream.

Though her brother was supported through school, Dr. Taggart was the one who put herself through four degrees, including a PhD in accounting.  She and my father paid for their own wedding.

And so, it comes as no surprise that my mom is adept at Getting Sh*t Done.  And thus, she is exactly the person you want to have around during a crisis.

But it would be great if the Powers That Be could stop throwing those at her long enough for her to catch her breath.  Because when Mrs. M., one of her closest friends, lost her battle to cancer on the anniversary of my maternal grandfather’s death, my mom handled it.  She waited at the M house for the caterers, and set everything up for the post-funeral reception.  She helped that same family through the death of Mrs. M’s mom, just a few days later.

On Christmas day, her cell phone rang while we were enjoying my godmother’s lasagne.  Her cousin, who is in his nineties and was in an assisted living facility, had fallen, and was disoriented.  When she went to see him the next day, he’d lost 70 years of memory, just like that.  He didn’t recognize my mom, the woman who’d visited him two or three times a week and taken him to every doctor’s appointment he’d had for as long as I can remember.  The woman who’d watched her father die of Alzheimer’s.

And last week, a call from overseas informed her that the husband of one of her best friends, with whom my parents had countless dinners and parties when they lived in the States, is in hospice.  For days or maybe, just maybe, a couple of weeks.  She’ll head over, she says, when the family has come and gone and her friend is alone in the house again, because that’s when she’ll need help getting things done.

She hasn’t been sleeping, lately.

So, if you’re the sort of people who think positive thoughts for others, if you could find the time to send some of those up to north Jersey, that’d be great. 

And if you’re one of the PTB, if you could just back off for a while, just long enough for her to get some sleep at least, that’d be great, too.



  1. Beach Bum said,

    Looks like your mom is great at being the strong one when others can’t. Definitely sending some positive thoughts her way.


  2. Lisa said,

    Sending strong, positive, healing thoughts. I’m sorry about all of this. There’s only so strong you should have to be, you know?

  3. Hammer said,

    The gas pump was broken this weekend, but today there was a note taped next to the display saying your mom stopped by this morning and fixed it.

    The gas pump says, “Thank you.”

  4. Beach Bum: She is definitely the person you want to call in a crisis – she just rolls up her sleeves and takes care of what needs it.

    Lisa: Thanks. I’m sure she can use all the happy she can get!

    Hammer: That does sound like her. She probably sensed the situation, heaved an exasperated sigh because nobody else was doing anything about it, and teleported over.

    It’s going to be kind of terrifying, if she ever decides to apply those skills to my life. 🙂

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