Matter of Fact Archives - Just Wait and See

Juxtaposed. The Story Continues

April 12, 2019 by Ellen Moore 4 Comments

Nurses came in to tell us they were going to need the room, so they were going to move us to another one where we could spend as much time with Catherine as we’d like. I remember thinking how nice that was and at the same time thinking, “Of course they need the room – they can’t just wait around for us.” Little did I know that that would be one of thousands, if not millions, of competing thoughts that were in store for me. Some bubbled up with cynicism; some with ache, some with unwavering hope, some with love, some with anger, some with confusion, some with dismay… the list goes on and on.

That meant our next stop was room 12 – my favorite number and Brian’s. Catherine died in room 8. Sarah waited in room 7 – the number for perfection and completeness. And we said goodbye in room 12. Brian immediately wanted to hold her. He treated her as if she were alive. He talked to her and covered her up and made sure she wasn’t cold. “This all looks so normal,” I said at some point to someone. “We’ve held her a million times when she’s sleeping or out of surgery and she looks just like this.” I don’t think I ever said it out loud, but the implication was desperately waiting under the surface… “Are we sure she’s not alive?” I wondered. Maybe she was. I had to keep the hope suppressed, though. It kept wanting to fly up and carry me away, only this time there was nowhere to carry me.

I finally determined that I wanted to hold her. She held much easier than she had in life. She didn’t resist or arch or push back with her own will. Instead, she snuggled. She curled. She fit exactly in the little pockets of my body that ached to have her fill. I’m so glad I held her. I wish I could still hold her. I wish I had held her more when she was alive. That was usually Brian’s role. He always held her best and she always loved to be in his arms. I think on that day, she liked being in my arms, too.

I imagine her spirit floating above us like on the movies where they talk about near-death experiences. I imagine her watching us hold her and telling her how much we loved her and hearing me hum Brahms’s lullaby – the same one I’d hummed since the day she was born and nearly every single day in the NICU.

Sometime – I can’t recall exactly when – the hospital chaplain showed up. He looked like Santa Claus. He had a fluffy white beard and I thought, “Wow, Sarah gets a visit from Santa Claus!” Since it was 20 days before Christmas, it made sense. Santa does visit kids in the hospital before Christmas. He said a nice prayer with us, expressed his regret that he hadn’t gotten there sooner, and we changed rooms for him to meet Sarah. I think I asked her, “Who does he look like?” How could it be that Brian was holding dead Catherine’s body a few rooms over and I was talking with Sarah about Santa Claus? Does that even make sense? Truth is that none of this makes sense. None of it! So, if the man looked like Santa Claus and I wanted to think of it that way, then so be it.

I kept bouncing back and forth between Sarah’s room and Catherine’s room. I was used to that. That seemed normal. I’ve balanced the two of them for 10 years, so that felt productive and comfortable and safe. Plus, my doctor friend was hanging out with Sarah and that helped a lot. Her brother had died when she was young, so she knew what Sarah might be experiencing. She gave her some wise perspective, which she shared with me so I’d know.

“I told her she’s going to feel sad at times and she’s going to feel happy at times and both are OK. And you don’t need to feel guilty for feeling happy. It’s OK to feel happy, too,” she explained.

I’ve tried to hold onto those words for myself, actually. It’s hard. I feel incredibly guilty during the little moments where I start to feel happiness eek into my soul. For example, Sarah sang in her first solo performance at a restaurant the day after Catherine’s memorial service. She was really good. I was impressed she was able to get up there and pull it off given her lack of sleep and all the stress surrounding her. I was proud of her. And in awe, frankly. And I felt a little happy about it. As soon as I recognized it as happy, though, I felt guilt put a lid on it and push it away. “How can I be out watching Sarah in a restaurant when Catherine died less than 2 week ago?” Honestly, that feeling comes up all the time and it feels worse than most of the feelings I have right now.

Eventually, during all the bouncing back and forth, my priest showed up. I had texted her when we were in the ambulance, and I guess she decided she needed to come. She was a welcome presence and she anointed Catherine which felt safe. I was holding Catherine when she leaned over to give me a hug and my ear got pressed against her chest. All I could hear was her heartbeat, loud and strong. This sound – or really absence of sound – juxtaposed the silence I had heard when I listened to Catherine’s chest to convince myself she was no longer alive. It was too much. I broke down into the loudest, strongest tears I had had in the moments since I had been told they were going to stop CPR. Catherine didn’t have a heartbeat any more. This woman did. And that was the difference in the rest of my life. That was the moment when I think it actually first really hit me. My 14-year-old baby was dead.

The News

January 17, 2019 by Ellen Moore 4 Comments

My doctor friend arrived shortly thereafter. Seeing her interrupted my thoughts and pleas to God that THIS was not supposed to be the way our story ended. I saw her walking down the hall and recall thinking “Wow, she got dressed nice!” I guess I expected a “roll out of bed and hop in the car in a hurry” type of a look. She looked like she might on any other day I had seen her in the PICU though I noticed something different. She had badges hanging around her neck – lots of badges that made her look and actually BE official. They gave her access. Those badges meant she was there for a purpose. She probably wears them every day at Hopkins. I only noticed them as she walked down the hall this time.

Sisters Forever. Sarah and Catherine on the first day of school, 2018.

She set down her bag and leaned in as I was leaning against the doorframe. Some of the many people assembled had to move out of her way as she walked toward me and started leaning toward me ever so slightly. It looked as if she were going to give me a hug. I didn’t want to waste those seconds, so I waved her toward Catherine and barely whispered, “Go be a doctor.” She didn’t miss a beat and turned to her right. As she entered the room, I noticed all the professionals parted, somewhat like the Red Sea, to let her pass and get close to Catherine and the attending physician. I didn’t want to watch any more. I finally left my post and went to the room next door where Sarah was on her iPad and Brian was doing what he does so well – waiting.

Time warps when you’re in this sort of situation. I have no memory of what we talked about or did while we waited. I couldn’t even take a guess about how long we waited. I don’t recall if I got up and checked on Catherine or if I went to the bathroom or if I told Brian what happened when my doctor friend got there – all things that seem plausible. I do remember what happened when she and the attending came into the room however long later. And I wish I didn’t remember that because then, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.

I’m writing this, 24 days out, and I still wonder if it were a dream and wish that it were. I still see my doctor friend’s eyes, filled with so much compassion, knowing what she was about to say. I ache for her in that moment. She looked me straight in the eye and said so softly that I could barely hear her, “There’s nothing more we can do.” It was really more like she mouthed it than said it out loud. Or maybe that’s just how I heard it. I looked at Brian and Sarah and felt my heart drop to the floor. Actually, it was more than my heart – it was everything I’d ever known to be inside me – it all fell out of my body as I tried to absorb what she said. I’m sure I only recall bits and pieces from that moment forward. At some point, I heard her say that they were going to stop doing CPR. “It’s not your choice. We needed to come and tell you this is what’s going to happen.”

I must have looked at her with a face full of hope because I don’t recall asking anything. I simply remember her saying, “It’s been too long. There’s too much damage. Even if she were to come back.”

In a split second I thought, “That doesn’t matter – her brain and body were already damaged. Let’s keep trying.” I never said that out loud though. I knew.

I knew in the way I had known she was dead the minute I looked at her in bed at the house when the nurse said she wasn’t breathing. And I knew it was time to let go. I knew my doctor friend was right. As much as I didn’t want any of it to be real, I knew.

She continued, “They did everything right. We couldn’t have done any more at Hopkins. We wouldn’t have had anything there that they didn’t have here. They did a good job here and tried everything.” She emphasized ‘everything’ with such emotion that I knew she really meant it. It came out more like EVVVV-RY-thing.

“And the story that your nurse told you?” she continued, “that seems plausible. Given the timeline and her body – her body was warm – that seems to be a plausible story. I don’t think she fell asleep and missed this,” she said. Somehow that was comforting. After more than a decade with nursing, we had had too much experience with nurses falling asleep. Whether that did or didn’t happen, I thanked her for giving us that story. I knew the story we held in our head would form the basis for our healing down the road.

When I first heard the news, It took a few heartbeats for the tears to come. I remember thinking that was odd and wondering why I wasn’t crying. Did I not care? Had I prepared for this mentally somehow? Then with one look, Brian and Sarah and I collapsed into each other’s arms as the tears fell out of our bodies. I think the doctors evaporated to leave us with the hole in our family we would never ever be able to replace. And in that moment, I could barely even comprehend it.

The next event I remember was my doctor friend and the attending coming in and telling us they were cleaning Catherine up and that we could go see her in a few minutes. I can’t even fathom what I was thinking or feeling then. We walked into her room and they had put her in a yellow hospital gown. She actually looked great. “I never knew you looked so good in yellow, Catherine,” I said as I leaned over to give her a kiss. And weirdly I thought how I did know she looked good in yellow and why didn’t we dress her in yellow more often? Looking back on it these thoughts feels surreal. They make no sense. And then there was a thought that made perfect sense – She looked just like she always did – lying still. Eyes closed. A faint pink in her cheeks. Catherine.

“She looks normal,” I said to Brian. “Maybe she’s not dead,” I thought to myself. And then I saw a stream of blood flow from the corner of her mouth. “She doesn’t do THAT normally,” I said and asked Brian to have them come clean her up again as I tried to hold back the tears. They had warned us it might happen, but I didn’t want to see it. “I don’t want this to be my last memory of her, Brian. This isn’t the image I want.”

He had been wiping the blood with the blanket just like it was drool. He used the exact same tenderness I had seen in him every single day of her life. And he was crying. I had only seen him shed a tear maybe one time in the past, and I wasn’t even sure it happened. The day we learned Catherine was blind, when she was still in the NICU, he turned away for a moment, and I always believed he must have cried a bit. I never asked though. Sometimes dignity is more important that knowledge. This time, I watched the tears flow as he touched her like he always had. “Hey Catherine!” he even said as we had walked into the room, just like he said when he greeted her after school.

We took some photos. That may seem odd. It did to me too. But when it’s the last time you’ll see your 14-year-old baby, you don’t want to risk forgetting. And they’re some of the most beautiful photos I’ve ever taken of Brian and Catherine. Except for the expression on his face, you would simply think she was sleeping beside him.

After a few moments, I went next door to see if Sarah wanted to see Catherine. She did. She understood about death because in the past 14 months, her pet ladybug, Ellie, had died; her hamster, Squeak, had died; her Gran had died; and her Ma Maw had died. And now her sister had died. That’s a lot of death for anyone, much less a 10-year-old. No wonder when I get stressed at home now and start yelling, she’s terrified that I’ll not be able to breathe and then pass out and die.

Sarah bravely walked into the room and stood beside her sister. She reached out to touch Catherine and run her hands through her hair. She leaned over and gave her a kiss. Though she had said she didn’t want a photo with her, I snuck some from behind her head. “She doesn’t know what she wants, right now,” I thought. None of us does. And the other day I caught Sarah looking at photos of us with Catherine after she had died. She paused for a long time on the ones of her reaching out to touch Catherine. I think we all must want a connection to “the last time” – whatever the last time is.

Writing to Be Cool

September 4, 2016 by Ellen Moore 2 Comments

If I don’t write, does that mean I’m no longer a writer? And why haven’t I written in four months, especially after I made a commitment to myself and to readers that I would? Well, for one, we’ve had an amazing summer and I’ve been soaking it up like the sunshiny rays I don’t want to disappear on this final summer weekend. And for another thing, I’ve started a business that is keeping me very busy with an obsessive all-consuming kind of focus. Those are just excuses though, aren’t they? The truth is that if I wanted to write, I would be writing. Right? And since I’m not writing, I must not want to write. Is that right? Or is that wrong?

I actually do want to write. I don’t feel like I have much to say right now, though. I don’t want simply to recount the past 4 months, amazing as they have been. I remember wanting to write about Catherine going to camp by herself for a week and realizing I had no idea what to write because I had no idea what happened! And I don’t want to write about sadness or loss or frustrations or any of the other things I think about related to the disabilities of our lives. I wrote a post about nurses and training them and I never posted it. It sounded too negative and I don’t want to sound negative. That’s not the point of this blog.

I’m working on redesigning this blog so it looks more current. I’m actually working with a woman in South America and have spent countless hours picking out themes that might work so she can make the transfer of all these thousands of words into a format that is more readable and represents Catherine better. Maybe that’s what’s been holding me back… I think I can reflect Catherine better.

We went back-to-school shopping recently as virtually every other family in America does. Sarah proclaimed, “Catherine needs to look cooler!” And so we set about to find some clothes that would make that statement a reality. We got her a jean jacket and vest and some cool skirts. And as she headed back to school, she certainly looked cooler. She even looks cool heading to church! So stay tuned as this blog gets ready to transform and look cooler as well. And I’ll work a little harder at writing – hopefully to reflect Catherine as the cool pre-teen she is.

36 Nuggets of Family Travel in Copenhagen

August 16, 2015 by Ellen Moore Leave a Comment

Around Town

The “classic” view of Copenhagen – the neighborhood of Nyhavn. This photo was taken from the bus tour the day we arrived and were having a hard time staying awake.

National Gallery – Not to be confused with the National Museum. Sarah’s walking to the middle of the reflecting pool to sit in that chair in the middle. Wouldn’t you?

Showing off the art after drawing all afternoon.

In Denmark, bottles are marked for recycling. You pay a deposit with every bottle you purchase. Then, you can return the bottles for money. We “paid” for a lot of groceries this way. And many people in CPH pull bottles from the trash to make money. About 4 bottles would get you a buck.

We put Sarah’s Fanta bottle in right as they needed to change the crushed bottle container. She found her bottle sitting on top – the one with the orange label.

One of the most interesting things we learned is that people in CPH believe there should be life in the cemetery. So they are often designed like beautiful gardens and on nice days, people go there for picnics and sunbathing and to play games. I like this idea.

Hans Christian Andersen is from Copenhagen and this statue of The Little Mermaid is the most visited tourist attraction in the city. Sarah loved seeing her and we went twice.

What Do They Eat?

Cheers with water the night we arrived. We made it.

Gross Hotdogs. Sarah didn’t even want to try it.

It’s always fun to see how McD’s is the same and different in other countries. Mostly the same, though the burgers tasted different. Probably actually meat!

Salmon Smorbrod (open faced sandwich) and one with Roast Beef. These were really good at Louisiana Art Museum.

On the Go

This is where we’re going. So exciting.

All on the plane and ready to take off. Eight hour flight? Piece of cake. The girls did great.

We missed our stop on the bus and had to walk back to the National Gallery. Good shot of the way sidewalks are designed. It took a lot of concentration to keep Catherine’s wheelchair between the cobblestones. The smooth path on the right is bikes only.

They look like seasoned travelers, don’t they?

A great hand in Uno passes the time on the train well.

Waiting for the bus. We traveled low budget which meant lots of busses and trains. Next time, we’ll look into renting a van.

On a hot day, cold air blew up from this grate. Made a cute photo op.

This photo shows an example to anyone who ever wonders why I still adore my husband. Thanks Brian. You could have gotten really irritated, and your quick shift to the escalator made me fall in love all over again.

Love how Sarah is watching to be sure her sister will be safe going down the stairs. “Be careful Daddy!”

Now, this is traveling in style!

Bye Bye Copenhagen! Sarah cried when we left. So glad she had a great time.

Leaving Copenhagen, Sarah wanted to give the passport control officer all the passports. That’s a lot of trust to give a 7 year old! She did a great job and kept them all very safe.

Sleeping Abroad Is Different

We stayed in the Urban House – a hostel that had a hip, young vibe with a surprising number of families. Bean bags were welcome the morning we arrived after our long flight.

Woke 3 mornings in the hostel to this little face looking over the top bunk.

Catherine had a hard time adjusting the first morning and slept a lot despite the breakfast and activity surrounding her. She adjusted quickly after the first day.

In the middle of the trip, we went to LegoLand and stayed one night. You probably can’t tell, but the bunk beds are toddler size and Ellen had to sleep there. Good thing I curl up at night.

The last half of the trip, we stayed in a flat in Fredericksburg that we booked via Airbnb.com. It was neat to see how locals live and to be away from the center of the city of Copenhagen. We relaxed, took day trips and had a much better time out of the city. Yes, I’d use Airbnb again.

Sheer Beauty

Superlatives from Copenhagen

August 16, 2015 by Ellen Moore Leave a Comment

Now that the laundry is done – well, at least clean and in the hampers if not folded and put away – and we’re over the jet lag, we’ve taken a couple of nights to reflect on our journey. Thought you’d like to read our overall impressions of our trip in a superlative kind of way. Thanks so much for reading!

“What’s the best thing you did?”

Louisiana Museum of Modern Art – unanimous!

A view from the museum to Sweden.

The museum had supplies for kids to create their own art based on exhibits in the museum.

Everyone worked on a project.

Biggest Waste of Money –

Hotdog and Fanta at a street vendor. (Ellen) He charged us over $10 for the Fanta and the hotdog was gross.

I’m not eating THAT!

It’s a weird bright red color covered with mustard and “fatty pig parts” (we later called those bacon), mustard, onions and did I mention the pickles? Yuck!

LegoLand hotel (Sarah, though she loved staying there!) It was about $500 for the night. We could have stayed for less and been really close to the park. It was a cute room though.

Look at all the FRIENDS.

Funniest Moment

Middlefart! (Sarah) – Yes, that’s name of a town and we couldn’t control ourselves laughing about Topfart, Bottomfart and Middlefart. Or Leftfart, Rightfart and Middlefart. Or our favorite – Hotfart, Coldfart and Middlefart!

Can’t make this stuff up.

Nine translations for Ketchup on the packet (Ellen) – Look closely at this ketchup packet. There are nine different translations for Ketchup and they all actually say Tomato KETCHUP! Contrast that to the fact that when we were at the train station, we couldn’t find a single sign translated into English and you’ll understand the IRONY of this.

Scariest Moment

Walking down a seedy street looking for dinner (Brian) – We moved past the tatoo parlors and into most likely drug zones before we realized it and turned around. We thought we were following the directions to a restaurant.

Having the Metro doors close on Sarah (Ellen) – She didn’t understand the need to get in quickly or it would be gone. I yelled more sternly than I think I’ve ever yelled at her, “GET IN!”

Haunted Ride at Bakken (Sarah) – A creepy looking girl turned into a ghoul unexpectedly. Yikes!

Runner up – Nearly getting a fine for not having bought the right ticket on the train. Fine would have been $750! Don’t worry – the story will make it to “Most Absurd.”

Most Frustrating Moment

Not being tall enough to ride the spinning ride at Bakken (Sarah)

Walking around pulling the luggage and pushing Catherine on the rough roads (Brian)

Brian pushed/pulled the luggage, we all wore daypacks and Ellen pushed Catherine. Made for a tight parade.

Closed elevators making us have to push and pull Catherine up and down stairs (Ellen)

Does this even need a caption?

Best Unique Use of Technology

Door Codes at Urban House (Ellen) – Our hostel didn’t require keys. At check-in, they emailed you a code and room number. You simply went to your door and entered the code. Upon check-out, it reset to a new code for the next person. And it was all managed by a computer at the front desk.

Cameras on the airplane (Sarah) – We could watch take-off and landings as well as see the land beneath us.

Best Travel Magic

Airplane Food (Brian and Sarah) – Yes, they really both loved the beef stew and potatoes.

SAS rep taking us to the lounge (Ellen)

Living the life when our flight was delayed.

Most Absurd Moment

Getting Soaking Wet (Sarah) – When it rained on us in Tivoli, it poured! We were so wet it didn’t really matter that Sarah wanted to splash in puddles all the way home. I can only imagine how a kid must love the freedom to do that.

Moving the Wheelchair to Make Room for Bikes (Ellen) – We bought our tickets for the train to LegoLand and I told the woman we had a wheelchair. When we got on the train in the right car, we parked the chair in the area where seats fold up and took Catherine back to our seats on the train. The train attendant told us her chair couldn’t go there because they needed that room for bikes! When I asked where it should go, she actually made us take it off the train at the next stop and go load it into another car! Thankfully, some nice (non-Danish) guy helped Brian do it.

See all the bikes? Catherine got to stay in her wheelchair this time.

Buying a Train Ticket (Brian) – We bought our ticket for zones 1, 2, 3, 4 and while coming back from Louisiana Art Museum, we learned from the train attendant that we were in zone 40 and our ticket was no good. We had read the fines were $750 (making this a runner up for Ellen’s scariest moment!) and fortunately, the attendant showed us some mercy when we expressed utter confusion. You look at this map and tell me if you wouldn’t have been confused! We had so much difficulty on the trains we finally routed ourselves away from Central Station and opted for the Metro. Much easier!

Red is 1, Blue is 2, then Yellow is 30 and Purple is 40. Who can even see that?

Red is 1, Blue is 2, then Yellow north of Red is 30 and Purple north of that is 40. The Blue south of Red is zone 3 and the Yellow south of that is zone 4. What? And who can even see that?

Very Favorite Food

Waffles with Cream (Ellen) – OH – MY – GOSH!!! These are amazing and I wish I had taken a photo for you to see. Imagine 2 crispy waffles, buttery, shaped like a boat with cream in between them. You can’t. That would be one reason to go back. They had made them since the 1800’s.

Chicken Nuggets at Bakken (Sarah) – She said they were something really special and gobbled them up quickly to go ride more rides.

Hamburger Steak and Gravy at Bakken (Brian) – I guess it was worth all the back and forth of “Where shall we eat?” prior to choosing the place. Whew!

Best View

Tivoli from the Skychair Swing Ride (Sarah)

Sweden and the sea from Louisiana Art Museum (Ellen)

Countryside out the Window of the Train (Brian)

The Most Craziest, Awesomest, Interesting, Silly, Cool Thing

Tivoli Show (Sarah) because they made sailboats sail on the stage

Doesn’t this look exactly what you imagine Tivoli to be like?

Penguins (Sarah) – They were visible from the roller coaster at LegoLand when it went through a tunnel. It really was a pretty cool idea.

Funhouse Bakken (Sarah) – The floors moved and stairs were set at odd angles making it extremely difficult to walk. We walked very slowly initially and then Miss Confident, Sarah, ran through it the second time.

Music Demo at Louisiana Art Museum (Ellen and Brian) – We listened to a 3 piece ensemble on the lawn of the museum overlooking the water to Sweden. We realized one of the men was “playing” his computer. As he moved his body, his computer was producing sounds in parallel. If he waved his arms wildly, the music was fast and loud. If he wiggled his hand, the music might actually be the sound of raindrops. Then he would sweep his arms in large arcs and the music would sound like waves. It was very interesting. Afterward, I asked if he’d ever used the system with kids with disability. He said he’d never thought of that and asked us to bring Catherine over to try it. Sweet success. Catherine moved to make the music herself. Wow. That was worth the price of the airfare. I’ll be looking him up to see if there is a way we can play with a copy of it. Turns out… he is the guy who wrote the software! I love when the world works like that.

Advice to Other Travelers

Go to the amusement parks – especially Bakken. (Sarah)

Stay outside the city – much nicer. (Brian)

Figure out how the transportation system works as soon as you get there. (Ellen) Pick up a map of the whole system at the airport when you arrive. We found it our last day!

Advice for Wheelchair Users

Have patience.

Work out before you go if you’ll be the one pushing the chair.

Embrace the wobblestones.

Finally

We believe there is a lot more world to see before we’d head back to Copenhagen. We had a great time and accomplished our 2 objectives, so that makes for an excellent trip. Most important – we learned we can do it again. Where shall we go next??

Home!

August 11, 2015 by Ellen Moore 2 Comments

Nothing like getting your first arrival stamp coming back into the USA!!!

I’m so proud of both these girls!! They got the travel DNA from my grandmommy and did great on our journey. Welcome home girls. We did it!!

Wow!

August 11, 2015 by Ellen Moore Leave a Comment

I think I know what it felt like to be snuck across a border during a war. Shortly after SAS made an announcement that our 12:20 flight was delayed to 13:30, some very nice man wearing a uniform appeared asking if we preferred to wait in the lounge. Sure!

He took us, our boarding passes and waved our passports to get us back through customs. Then he led us to the SAS first class lounge with a nice buffet and drinks for us to enjoy while we wait.

He explained that TSA is doing an inspection and everything must be 200% right so he hoped we would only be waiting for 30-45 minutes. Of course if this were a movie plot it’s possible he just made us miss our flight! Guess we’ll just have to wait and see….

Delayed

August 11, 2015 by Ellen Moore Leave a Comment

Apparently there is a security delay on our flight. Happy happy joy joy. The crew is providing water and juice so people don’t leave the gate area. And Brian’s theory is that they are training some newbies. I’m sure we’ll never know. It’s a good time for Sarah to practice tying her shoes!

And our only family selfie!

Heading Home

August 11, 2015 by Ellen Moore Leave a Comment

So much more to write about the trip and so little tIme to write. Yesterday we filled the day with amusements from Bakken, the world’s oldest amusement park.

Not much for Catherine to do other than smell the amusement fare and listen to the really good music. Sarah, however rode nearly every ride – some as many as 10 times!

Thought to be the world’s oldest rollercoaster.

And now we are boarding our flight. So gotta go for now.

Rough Travels Lead to a Great Day

August 10, 2015 by Ellen Moore Leave a Comment

Three closed elevators! I thought Brian and I would both blow a gasket today as we headed to Lousiana Museum of Modern Art. Thankfully, he was in a “Let’s make it work” mood and started taking Catherine on the escalator.

Imagine our growing frustration at another transfer where we either had to go home or climb about 30 stairs on each of 3 landings. It was much easier going down thankfully and I did my best to help. People just stood and stared. I still wonder how another human can watch someone struggle with a wheelchair and not offer to help. Very occasionally – and I mean VERY! – someone would and those people were like gold. Even if we declined the offer.

Needless to say, I don’t have a photo of us on the stairs as I was working hard to help Brian get Catherine down them safely. We did finally make it to the museum and were well rewarded.

We went because of three things I had read:

1. It is on many art-lover’s bucket list of best art museums in the world. How could we skip that even if we are not really that into art?

2. There would be a free concert on the lawn looking out to Sweden. At least we could say we showed Sarah another country.

3. The children’s wing was reported to be quite impressive. Given how much fun we had in the National gallery in Copenhagen, we thought this would be a big hit as well. This museum didn’t just set out random buckets or near scraps – dare I say garbage? This one tied into the major exhibitions and encouraged kids to use what they learned in the exhibits such as afrika or string painting or collage painting to make their own remarkable element of art that expressed their r own creativity. Every child had a vision and thkse visions nbave rbersJ

We learned also about skull the in the garden and even Godti make our Loire critter to bring home. Brian is working on that packing and engineering – and here is when they paid is for?

Honestly – I tried to just post in photos and fell asleep. I can feel it happening again. So lemme just chair some highlights from what was yesterday at the Louisiana museum of modern Art.

And we even got tower the guy orchestrating the erfoave of two wind instremta and a computer. Take a listen…