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| Baker and Carmen Guilbeau |
All I know is that I got very fond of Baker and Carmen over the years.
Glenn's dad was a World War II vet who loved good food and good people. You couldn't help but like him.
Not long before he died, he decided to read "Gone With The Wind" and then watch the movie. That was his project, and he completed it. Then he put in an order for "Doctor Zhivago."
His short-term memory waned a little as he got into his 90s. Whenever I went by the house, I'd ask if he'd eaten. He'd pause, look thoughtful and then say: "Well, I can't remember, but I'm always ready to eat." Then I'd fix him a sandwich. He was a joy.
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| Baker, who wanted to live to 100 (and nearly did) |
He doted on his caregiver, Barbara, and they'd go to the movies, go get coffee and dye Easter eggs. He was game for anything.
His death a few years ago left a huge void, but we thought we'd have Glenn's mom for awhile since she was 10 years younger than him. Life, though, makes its own plans.
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| My mother-in-law with her dear friend Miss Ellen |
My mother-in-law was a very proper lady who dressed to the nines and spoke very precisely. She would've been home at Buckingham Palace even though she grew up on a farm outside Fenton.
She played basketball in her youth and traveled to the big city of Baton Rouge for a high school tournament. Years later, she'd remember hearing a ship's whistle on the Mississippi River and thinking what a lonely sound it was.
Despite her rural roots, she and Baker ended up in the New Orleans area, where they lived until Hurricane Katrina.
My mother-in-law was a woman who liked the color blue, books, the song "Stardust," Christmas, roses, Snickers bars and brownies. She loved ice cream. I mean she LOVED ice cream. My father-in-law used to joke that all of his pension went to Blue Bell.
She taught school and eventually became a librarian. She traveled the world, picking up Christmas ornaments in the various ports along the way. She wrote beautiful thank you notes. She was a lovely lady.
Her home was always warm and comfortable, from the piano in one corner to the blue and white dishes in the kitchen to the shelves overflowing with books.
At her old house in Metairie, she had an entire room set up as a playroom for her grandchildren. Once she moved to Baton Rouge, a child's tea table graced the guest room and stuffed animals perched on a bench in the living room. Every Christmas, photos of her grandchildren as babies decorated her tree.
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| An outing to the pet adoption event at PetSmart. Alas, I couldn't convince her to adopt a dog. |
As she got older, she developed dementia. This is the cruelest disease in the world. It dimmed her mind even if it didn't dim her beautiful smile.
One night a few months ago, I stopped by and found her more confused than normal. She insisted that the neighbor's car across the street was hers and that she'd gone over to peer into the windows and put a key in the door lock. I tried to reason with her by pointing out that she had a Volvo and the other car was a Chevy (or whatever it was). "Yes," she said, with a knowing smile. "They put that Chevy sign on it, but it's my car."
Rattled, I decided to stay awhile and watch a movie with her. "Gone With the Wind" was on - always a good choice.
We watched in silence while I sat there, scared and sad for her. Suddenly, she piped up with an observation.
"I never understood why Scarlet chased after Ashley. Rhett was much better looking," she said.
And, like a ball bounced against a wall, a little bit of her came back. She was spot on. What did Scarlet see in Ashley?
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| Visiting with friends |
Lately, though, she was sad. She missed her husband. She was scared at night. She was lonely.
Mind you: We tried to take her on outings. Barbara would make popcorn and proclaim it movie night. My mother-in-law would go into her room and shut the door. I took her to the zoo. We fed ducks, but I don't think she was really into it. The brightest moments were when her grandchildren - and eventually the grandchildren's children - stopped by for a visit. She could often be found in the kitchen sneaking cookies to the great-grandchildren who had refused to eat their dinner. She was never fond of dinner herself and preferred to move right to dessert. But, lately, even those favorite faces didn't do much for her.
Then she stopped eating entirely and couldn't even be tempted with ice cream. Glenn took her to the doctor who ordered her to the emergency room. Less than two weeks later, she was gone.
I remember when my father-in-law got the news that he was dying. He didn't want to die. He fought death. Even at 96, he fought death. He wanted to live to 100.
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| We took her to a pizza joint a few years ago and demanded that she show us her basketball skills. Here she is, lobbing basketballs into a net to win points. |
The day of his funeral, it didn't just rain; it stormed. Making the two-hour trek to the cemetery on what used to be my mother-in-law's family land in rural Jefferson Davis Parish, we worried that someone would die on the way there because you could barely see to drive. It was almost as if my father-in-law was shaking his fist at his own funeral.
Two years later, we got the news that my mother-in-law was dying. I walked into the emergency room after getting that phone call and found her in bed. She was lucid and talking. I don't remember what she said because I was thinking that maybe the doctors had gotten it wrong and that she would rally.
The doctors had it right. She didn't rally. She died three days later, and she almost seemed to welcome death. Not long before she died, she asked why her husband hadn't been to see her in the hospital. Reminded that he was dead, she said, "Oh, that must be why I dreamed last night that I got to Heaven and Baker said, 'Carmen, why are you here? It's not your time.'"
I have to agree with my father-in-law on that point. I don't think it was her time.
My mother-in-law was a strong-minded woman. She made up her mind that she was dying, and she died. She decided it was her time.
The day of her funeral, we once again made the trek to the LeBleu land. This time, it was sunny without a cloud in sight. As the religious person talked about how she was in Heaven, a bird landed on the ground near me and started singing loudly.
My mother-in-law was a devout woman who always had her rosary near at hand.
I have no doubt that she is in Heaven, and that she's as happy as a chirping bird on a beautiful spring day.
