Peggy Jaeger's Blog, page 65

#grieving

My mother died, unexpectedly, last night.

And I didn’t make it in time to say goodbye.

Measure of grief? Inconsolable.

Measure of guilt? Incalculable.

She just turned 87 last week and joked many times in the past few years that she never expected to live “this long.”

I always quipped back, “I didn’t either.” The first time I said it she got mad. Every time after that she laughed.

My mother was a severely complicated, emotional, mentally broken woman.

She was also the strongest person I’ve ever known.

She survived the sudden death of her father when she was nine years old, leaving a crater in her heart that never healed. She barreled through the suicide of her oldest sister when life became too much for the woman, and the death of her own mother 29 years ago, a woman who admitted she neither loved nor liked her middle daughter. Just a few months ago she suffered the loss of her youngest sister.

She lived through a World War and three other wars that saw her lose childhood friends, the tale end of a depression, numerous stock market crashes and recoveries.

She survived a mentally abusive first marriage to my father, and the censure of the Catholic Church when they excommunicated her for leaving him. This was prior to Vatican II before things get a bit laxer. Mother Church refused her petition of an annulment and her second marriage was then “tainted” by her strict family who saw it as her basically living in sin with my stepfather, even though they were legally married.

My mother was the most devout woman I’ve ever known. She lived her life with her faith even though the practice of it was denied to her.

She never graduated from High School because she had to drop-out to help support her ailing mother and her younger sister. She never got her GED, either. And despite the lack of education, she had extremely important jobs in her lifetime.

She worked on Wall Street as a stock transfer manager in a time when there weren’t many women in the job. And she made 45 cents to every dollar the men in the same position made.

During the financial crisis of the 1980s she was let go ( women were fired first) and subsequently changed career paths. She cleaned houses for very wealthy people for a while to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads. She babysat for several couples who absolutely adored the way she cared for their children. Then, at the age of 54, she became a licensed home health aide. She went into the homes of the people she’d cleaned for, now relegated to sick beds, and cared for them until the died.

During her 87 years, she suffered a miscarriage, two emotional breakdowns that left her anxious and paranoid, two broken hips and the subsequent surgeries to repair them, and broke with her husband’s family when they accused her of a crime she didn’t commit. They, like my grandmother’s family, felt she was living in sin with their brother and wanted her out of the family.

She was a gregarious person – right up until the end – and I can’t remember the number of times I asked her to stop speaking so I could tell her something important.

Today I wish I’d never tried to silence her.

It’s a complicated relationship between a mother and daughter, especially when the daughter has lived through the highs and despairs of the parent. My mother was not what anyone would call a book-smart woman, but she was the wisest person in my life, and no matter how many arguments we had, or tears we shed over fights, she always ALWAYS had my back.

I’ve written that I had to recently place her and my stepfather in a nursing care facility because they just couldn’t care for themselves anymore. This was – at the time – the most painful decision I’d ever made. My, mother, though, in typical fashion, told me to feel no guilt. She and her hubby had warm beds and a safe place to lay their heads down at night, 3 hot meals a day, and people to talk to. Although, I bet she was the one who did most of the talking.

I went to visit them on Thursday right before I went to visit my grandson for the weekend in New Jersey. She was alert, oriented, and chipper because the next day was St. Paddy’s day and they were being served corn beef and cabbage for dinner – her personal favorite. I kissed her goodbye when I left and her typical, “my love to the kids, Larry, and Maple,” rang in my ears.

Friday night she felt queasy in the nursing home, vomited, and then aspirated. She began having chest pain and shortness of breath. They transported her to the hospital where she was diagnosed with aspiration pneumonia. During her admission, they believe she also suffered a heart attack. I was called and updated and told they were going to keep her for a few days to give her IV antibiotics. She was alert, short of breath, but joking with staff – one who told me she was gregarious.

Yup.

Saturday afternoon I received a call from the hospital doctor telling me they did a repeat chest x-ray and the pneumonia was progressing and they were upping her antibiotics.

Saturday at suppertime I was called again and told her condition had worsened from severe to grave. My daughter convinced me to let my son-in-law drive me back to Vermont since the doctor was fearful she wouldn’t survive the night. My husband went to be with my mother, and I had the nursing home bring my stepfather over. They made it in time to see her take her last breath on this earth.

I did not.

My one consolation is that my mother died surrounded by the man I love most in the world, and the one she did.

She didn’t die alone.

Today I have to do the one thing I have always dreaded: make parting arrangements. The one thing that is getting me through that horrible event is that she was very specific in what she wanted and what she didn’t.

And because I love her so much, I am obeying every wish she has.

It amazes me how, in just 24 hours, a single day, your life as you know it can change forever

As I grieve the loss of the woman who gave me life I am remembering the last time I saw her – barely 3 days ago. Her smile and her positive attitude are what I am carrying with me into the future, along with her absolute faith.

~ Peg

#Saturdayblogs CHANCE (Last Man Standing) is a 2022 Heart Awards Finalist! #sweetromance #novella

So this happened….

Dear Peggy,

We’re excited to notify you that your book, Chance ( Last Man Standing) is a 
Category 5.5: Sweet Novella2022 Heart Awards Finalist

Thank you, OKRWG! I am humbled and sosososo very Honored!

#firstlinefriday 3.17.2023

From the third book in the MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN Series, BAKED WITH LOVE. I have to admit, this is my fav story in the bunch because my heart just melts for a friends to lovers romance!!!

“Oh, my God, Maureen.” My sister Colleen’s voice rose a good two octaves from its normal sultry timbre. “Are those…penis pops?”

Yes, they are, dear reader. Yes, they are! LOL

BAKED WITH LOVE ( A Match Made in Heaven, book 3)

Innkeeper Maureen O’Dowd lives to cook and bake, spoils her family and friends, and is an expert at keeping secrets, especially about the man who’s held her heart for years.

Police Chief Lucas Alexander is dealing with an aging father and a moody teenage son, and he’s in love with a woman who only wants to be friends.

How can these two fiercely private people reveal their feelings for one another without destroying the friendship they already have? And if they’re successful, will another secret, if revealed, drive a wedge between Maureen and Lucas that can never be repaired?

Get BAKED WITH LOVE here: Universal link

Episode 15 in #KindleVella MAGIC’S CHARM releases today #fantasy #magic #romance

If it’s Thursday, that means a new episode of MAGIC’S CHARM is released.

Here’s a little snippet from episode 15 which just dropped:

They sped along the Vegas desert as the sun finally jumped the horizon. He understood her desire to wear the huge sunglasses now since he had to squint against the sun’s glare as they headed straight into the light of day.

A half-hour after leaving the compound the limo turned into the terminal. Rhys counted the number of commercial flights all ready to leave the bustling city, an equal number ready to land from the skies above them.

“The average number of flights into the city each day is estimated between five and six hundred,” Siobhan said as the limo taxied to the private airstrip abutting  McClarren airport.

“Everybody loves Vegas,” Rhys said.

“And thank God they do or I’d be on perpetual tour. Or out of a job.”

“We’re here, Ms. d’Arc,” the driver announced.

Siobhan nodded as the car stopped. The driver opened her door while Rhys exited the opposite one. They were standing in a private indoor hangar. Rhys had been impressed by the amount of priceless art in the d’Arc home, but his awe grew ten times when he spotted the Bombardier Challenger 300 jet standing in front of them with a magic wand stenciled on the nose.

“Never seen a private jet before, McDowell?” Siobhan asked as she sauntered past him to walk up the steps to the plane.

“Seen one. Never flew in one, though.” He followed her up the steps.

“Well, you’ll have something fun to write about in your diary tonight, then, won’t you?”

The luxurious interior boasted 8 oversized captain chairs in the main cabin.

“Welcome, sir,” the flight attendant said. “My name is Rachel. I’ll be flying with you today.”

Rhys nodded as she snuck a peak at the cockpit instrument board.

Siobhan took a seat next to a window and strapped in. Rhys plopped down opposite her and did the same.

“There are seven other chairs in this plane,” she said, peering over the top of her sunglasses, “and you have to sit right there?”

“It’ll be easier to talk this way. You did promise to let me interview you.”

She slid her glasses back up her nose and made a play for looking out the window as the engines revved.

“We should arrive in about sixty minutes,” Rachel told them. She carried a carafe of coffee on a try, two mugs next to it along with cream and sweetener cups.

“Black for me, please,” Rhys said, accepting the mug once she’d filled it. She never asked Siobhan how she took it, just made it and handed it to her.

“Would you like a fruit plate for breakfast, Mr. McDowell, or eggs, bacon, and toast?”

“The latter,” he told her.

“Very good. Once we’re at cruising altitude I’ll bring everything out.”

Siobhan thanked her before the woman went to the back of the plane and seated herself.

“So,” Rhys said, after taking a sip of the most delicious coffee he’d ever had. “Your own plane. Nice perk.”

Slowly, she turned from looking out the window to face him, her sunglasses still in place. He’d give anything to see her eyes.

“We do quite a bit of traveling all around the country and this way is easier all around.”

“But I have to imagine it’s costly.”

She shrugged. “What good is having money if you don’t spend it?”

#wednesdaywisdom 3.15.2023

#mugmonday 3.13.2023

St. Patrick’s Day is in a few days so I’m posting this one early. The inside of the cup says KISS ME I’M IRISH

#truth ( LOL)

An Awesome #Bookthrone #giveaway! #Entertowin today

My most recent book, DEATH BETWEEN THE PAGES, is included in this fabulous giveaway from Bookthrone.

Enter to win an amazon gift card worth $250.00 just by entering and following any or all of the authors, here: BOOKTHRONEGIVEAWAY

 

#firstlineFriday TODAY, TOMORROW, ALWAYS #smalltown #romcom #family

From the second book in the MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN SERIES, TODAY, TOMORROW, ALWAYS.

           “Cathy, don’t forget you’ve got the Historical Society luncheon today,” my secretary-office-be-all-end-all Martha, told me as she placed a client brief on my desk.

Lawyer Cathleen O’Dowd wants to break free from her boring image. Widowed young, she’s toed the good-girl line but now wants a little fun and laughter in her days…and nights. Living in a small town, though, she can’t do anything that would tarnish her professional reputation.

Mac Frayne’s tragic past has turned him into a sullen loner. In town to write a book on the city’s founder, his plan is to get it done, then head home to his solitary existence.

When circumstances force them to work together, their opposing personalities clash, but the sexual attraction between them is palpable.

Can a simple affair with an end date be just the thing to brighten up their lives?

About the series:

From Book 1, DEALY BELOVED:

Colleen O’Dowd manages a thriving bridal business with her sisters in Heaven, New Hampshire. After fleeing Manhattan and her cheating ex-fiancé, Colleen still believes in happily ever afters. But with a demanding business to run, her sisters to look after, and their 93-year-old grandmother to keep out of trouble, she’s worried she’ll never find Mr. Right.

Playboy Slade Harrington doesn’t believe in marriage. His father’s six weddings have taught him life is better as an unencumbered single guy. But Slade loves his little sister. He’ll do anything for her, including footing the bill for her dream wedding. He doesn’t plan on losing his heart to a smart-mouthed, gorgeous wedding planner, though.

When her ex-fiancé comes back into the picture, Colleen must choose between Mr. Right and Mr. Right Now.

Book 3 BAKED WITH LOVE:

Innkeeper Maureen O’Dowd lives to cook and bake, spoils her family and friends, and is an expert at keeping secrets, especially about the man who’s held her heart for years.
Police Chief Lucas Alexander is dealing with an aging father and a moody teenage son, and he’s in love with a woman who only wants to be friends.
How can these two fiercely private people reveal their feelings for one another without destroying the friendship they already have? And if they’re successful, will another secret, if revealed, drive a wedge between Maureen and Lucas that can never be repaired?

Jean M. Grant #newrelease SEEKER:A Scottish Medieval Enemies to lovers romance #MortarandPestleseries

My writing friend, JEAN M. GRANT, is visiting me today to talk about her new book SEEKER: A Scottish Medieval Enemies to lovers Romance. The book is part of a 7 book series from a variety of authors under the banner of THE MORTAL AND PESTLE SERIES.

When writing about Scotland, Jean knows of what she speaks, as she tells us, here:

Finding my Muse in Scotland

Over a decade ago for our anniversary, my husband and I traveled to my bucket list destination: Scotland. Lone sheep wandered down the middle of a meandering country road. Windswept moors, heather fields, wet and cloudy skies, the occasional sunshine, rocky trails, impressive mountains, green rolling hills, deep lochs, and a gazillion castles greeted us…it was an amazing trip! Visiting the land of my daydreams stirred the muse within me to write about medieval Scotland. From that inspiration sprung my trilogy and now my spin-off book (it can be read as a standalone), Seeker (which is part of the new Mortar & Pestle series with six other authors).

Here is my list of must-sees!

10. The abbeys—Abbeys are poetic and serene and back in the Middle Ages served as monasteries to different Christian orders. We walked among ancient gray and rose stone ruins at Dryburgh and Melrose Abbeys.

9. The isles—It is hard to not visit an isle while in Scotland. There are many: Lewis and Harris, the Shetlands, or my beloved Uist. We visited Isle of Skye on a dreary day and could not even see the Black Cuillin mountains in the torrential rain, so I had to leave those images to my imagination.

8. Lochs—Like isles, lochs, many glacial, are a must-see and hard to miss whether it is the deep blue Loch Ness, expansive Loch Lomond, or the inspiring Loch Awe.

7. Crags & Glens—High and low crags are everywhere…the Trossachs, Cairngorms, or the five sisters of Kintail are impressive mountains. Glencoe is not one to skip. A rainstorm washed out our path and I got 100 midges stuck in my hair, but it was still oh-ah breathtaking.

6. Standing Stones—Standing stones are one of the few places we couldn’t visit on our trip as most are on the isles. Note to self for next time!  

5. Scottish Folk & Pubs—Scots are pleasant people, and we had a great time chatting with the locals. And yup, there are plenty of the other kind of locals: sheep! My husband even tried haggis.

4. The Lowlands—The lowlands often get overlooked, but they are green and lush with undulating hills. I loved them.

3. The Highlands—Rich in clan history and natural beauty and oh so many hiking trails, the Highlands are the epitome of Scotland. Tramp (hike) through glens, up stony crags, or visit Culloden Battlefield (we did), and just get lost on the winding one-lane roads. On my next visit I hope to hike the Hadrian’s Wall path on the English border.

2. Highland Games—Up for putting the stone, caber tossing, tug-o-war, music, and dancing…oh yes, and lots of kilts? Get thee to a Highland Game. We visited one in Pitlochry.

1. Castles—[notice my countdown order – I loved castles the most!] I visited over a dozen on my trip. My favorites: Eilean Donan (the central castle in my books), Kilchurn (we kayaked to it), Threave (we took a rowboat across a river to it), and Borthwick (we stayed overnight in this 14th century tower house that is haunted).

Seeker is a medieval Scottish romance, part of a 7-book series about a magical mortar and pestle that brings true love to its holders. Castles…mythical creatures…to everyday adventurers, it has something for everyone. In Seeker, restless archer Aileana yearns for a target to prove her worth, but when a magical mortar and pestle spins its charm upon her and a rival clan’s son, winning the yearly tournament might mean the difference between war and peace, between love and curses.

Nock, draw, release. Her bow is always ready, and if her arrow hits its mark, she will secure her destined soulmate.

Aileana Montgomerie’s bloodline holds valuable gifts of foresight and healing, but with each honor comes a curse. Even though she is descended from the mystical isles’ folk, she lacks the ability of the Scottish Ancients and wonders if she belongs in a magical family. Aileana just wants a purpose. What good is her bow and arrow if she is denied the right to fight for her clan?

Brodie MacDougall is ordained to be the next war chieftain of his clan. The title is a privilege as long as his brother, the future laird, doesn’t expect him to lift a sword and charge into battle. Chronic pain and nervous vapors force him to spend his days alone. Can his strategic skills keep him one step ahead of his conspiring brother?

Through a magical Mortar & Pestle, Brodie finds his heart’s desire. But there’s a catch. The seat on his brother’s council is no longer dependent upon his health…but on Aileana’s strength. With rumblings of unrest among their clans, will their love foster an alliance or be a step toward war?

The mixture of herb fragrances mingled in her nose. Nutty, sharp, awakening.

She inhaled. Brodie inhaled.

As he released his hand from the pestle, a dark violet waft of smoke rose from the mortar.

An image appeared in her head, though her eyes were wide open:

A vast and lush meadow. Her bow in her hand. She stared at a target, runes carved into its center. The butt was made from a large mound of dirt, the kind used in the yearly tournament.

What in all the stars was happening?

And Brodie stood beside her in the image. Vision? Nonsense! Had she knocked her head? Fallen asleep? She held no gift of prophecy. What was this?

The ground rumbled. She heard Brodie’s heart racing as he whispered words of love in her ear.

Her neck tingled with gooseflesh, the way the wheat fields rippled on a windy day. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her belly warmed.

In your presence, the answer is shown, a voice said. Stay close to him, for your heart’s desire is known. What you seek, you will reap. Follow the golden prize. Let it be your sun.

She blinked as the image faded, her face aflame and the residual heat of his lips upon her skin still palpable. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

He was staring at her, his body so close. She broke their shared gaze. “The mortar.”

He blew out a full, healthy breath as the lavender mist dissipated.

“Smoke?” she coaxed. Oh, please, Brodie. Say you see it, too!

He stared at the mortar. The purple smoke was now a pale haze fading to gray. The flecks in the black granite shimmered as bright as the stars.

“Aye, I do. A flame, but the color of a thistle. Though now it is gray.”

She gulped, feeling relieved but confused. Her mother’s treatments were as natural as the earth. She didn’t cast spells or evoke flares from simple herbs!

“Has this ever happened before?” he asked.

She wet her lips, searching his face. Her chest tingled.

“Never.”

Get your copy here: SEEKER

Checkout the entire series, here: MORTAR AND PESTLE

Check out the book trailer:

Jean’s background is in science, and she draws from her interests in history, nature, and her family for inspiration. She writes historical and contemporary romances and women’s fiction. She also writes articles for family-oriented travel magazines. When she’s not writing, she enjoys gardening, hiking, and exploring the outdoors.

Connect with Jean here:

Jean M. Grant

www.jeanmgrant.com

Website ~ Twitter  ~ Facebook ~  Goodreads ~ Bookbub ~ Amazon Author Page ~ Instagram

On birthdays, getting older, and being your parents’ advocate…

Today, this little lady is 87 years old.

Up until last week, she was able to live in her own home, with her husband of 57 years. That all changed when my stepfather, her husband, fell on February 27, broke his hip, and had to be transported to the hospital for a total hip repair.

You may remember I told you that in the past 5 years my mother has broken both her hips which resulted in subsequent stints in rehab. My stepfather, after surgery, was admitted to the same rehab nursing home she’d been in.

Since he was, effectively, her legs, her re-heater of food I cooked, did the washing up and the preparing, plus walked 3/4 of a mile to the mailbox and back each day, she couldn’t be left alone in her home without him or someone to help her out, no matter how much she said she didn’t need the help. She did.

By a miracle, or angels dancing together, or even all the planets aligning, I was able to get her admitted to the same nursing rehab facility as my father and yesterday, after a week in separate rooms, they were transferred to the same room.

Despite the few-day blip, they are back together again.

And this is where they will live out their days.

For the past week, I have had to cancel their lives – their independent lives. Their cable had to be discontinued, and disconnected, the box returned to the store. I had to get their taxes done. I had to first clean their home, then clean it out and get it ready for sale. By myself. No easy feat, and very time-consuming. I’ve had to become their Power of attorney so I could cancel credit cards, pay their bills, and attempt to sell their home.

I’ve always hated being an only child and never more so than this week.

But this isn’t a pity party for one, folks. This blog is about my mother. She’s 87 today and every day she wakes up, thanks God she is alive, and then says that she never thought she’d lived to see this age.

In all honesty, I didn’t either.

But… I am thankful she is reunited with the love of her life, is being cared for by an excellent staff 24/7, is eating well, and getting some much-needed physical rehab and mental stimulation. My stepfather is as well.

So if you have a moment free today, say a prayer for this little lady and then call your mother and tell her you love her. ~ Peg.