Birthday blues

Tomorrow is my birthday.

What do I want? Something that can’t be bought in a store.

I want a day of peace and tranquility. Just one day that is problem free. I want an escape from my normal routine.

Every day is the same. I start a couple loads of laundry before heading off to work. I deal with problems at work. Then I deal with problems at home. Sometimes simultaneously. After I make supper, clean the kitchen, and fold laundry I finally get to go to bed. I wake up and do it all over again the next day. Although I enjoy working and keeping busy, sometimes adulting can be monotonous and the responsibility burdensome.

I have to work tomorrow. After work, the kids want to do something with me. All I want from them is peace. I don’t want to hear any fighting. Even when we play games, they constantly tease each other by calling names or saying that their siblings suck. They say that it is all in jest, but I don’t find it very funny.

Paul has play practice on my birthday. I should’ve known to lower my expectations when he got the lead part in the summer play. He doesn’t have time for me anymore. I was hoping that he would go up north with me last weekend. When we got together with theater friends last week, he spontaneously offered to take them sailing this past weekend. So he did that instead. Then he asked me to crew for his race last night, but I was replaced by his theater friends. I was okay with that because I only wanted to be a sub. However, he has been sailing with a much younger single woman (not alone) from the theater that thinks he’s hot. I guess I would care more if she was attractive. I was hoping to sail with Paul for almost a week for our anniversary, but we cut it back to a weekend for play practice. I am getting really sick of it already.

I feel left out. I didn’t know all of the inside jokes. I am just an introvert who wants to feel included, but doesn’t want to go. I feel like no one cares about me. The kids really don’t need me much anymore. Sometimes I don’t really care about me either. I almost got hit by a car this morning while I was out riding my bike. The lady almost went through a stop sign. She slammed on her brakes last minute when she saw me. I didn’t get angry like I usually do. I didn’t really care. Hey, I’m still here!

Although my best friend Lisa moved home almost two months ago, we have only seen each other twice. I don’t feel like running with her. I would rather be alone.

When I was a kid, my mom made a very big deal out of my birthday. It was the one day of the year that my life wasn’t all about my autistic brother. I think because of that I have high expectations of how that day should go. Every year it seems harder and harder to get excited. My birthday always signifies the middle of summer. It is going by so quickly this year. I don’t want summer to end and I don’t want to get any older!

Tomorrow I will be 21 (doubled). Gulp! Ready or not, here I come.

Will you still love me…

This time I am struggling to find the right words to say. I really don’t know how I feel. Some days I just want it to be over. I want to be done with this job. I don’t want to worry anymore. Maybe if I don’t see it I can pretend that it is not there.

It is getting harder now. Harder than I ever thought it would be when, for a short time, I held your tiny hand in mine. Sometimes I long for the easier days when I felt like I had some small iota of control. Back when you were dependent on me for everything, when I meant the world to you.

We told you that you could come to us if you were in trouble but I still wasn’t ready to hear, “Mom, I screwed up”. Those words hit me like a punch in the gut. I felt worried sick. I wanted to scream, cry, and yell. But I knew my response was going to dictate whether or not you would trust me again. I had to remain calm.

I tried to find the answers to my questions on google, but it made me more fearful. I paced the floor. I wanted to run. You asked me if you would be in trouble. How can I be upset with you for being honest? If you didn’t tell me, I probably would’ve never known.

Lately you have been asking me if I would still love you if you decided to make a total mess of your life. I am happy that you feel like you can talk to me openly and honestly about your struggles.

I just never knew it would be so hard.

 

Our last supper

Paul and I decided to take his mother Martha out to eat for one last Mother’s Day celebration where we can all be together.

A quick recap…Martha has stage 4 lung cancer that has already spread to her brain. This will most likely be her last Mother’s Day. Plus we were able to go out with all of our kids. This will also be the last time the kids are all living at home since Angel will be in college next year several hours away. So this was the big hurrah!

We took the family out to a Japanese steak house for hibachi. Martha doesn’t get to enjoy fine dining often and was very happy for the opportunity to go out. She was very sick earlier in the day from her chemo, so we weren’t even sure the evening out would happen. We thought about just cooking a nice meal at our house. But since this is the last time, we decided to go to a small quiet restaurant and make it memorable.

We had a wonderful hibachi chef. Arabella even tried some raw tuna sushi to get ready for her trip to Japan this fall. She is very brave. Martha was wearing a baseball cap to cover her bald head. Paul made sure that she received a special chef hat that they reserve for birthday parties. I took a lot of pictures.

When we received the bill, we were told that Martha’s supper was paid for. Someone at the table next to ours covered her bill.

Paul went over to the table and thanked the man. They embraced. Later the man followed Paul into the parking lot. He told Paul that his mother passed away a few months ago from cancer. He wanted Paul to pass on this generosity someday to another person going through the same thing.

Once again, the two grown men embraced. Total strangers sharing a moment of sorrow over their dead and dying mothers on Mother’s Day weekend.

Together they wept in each others arms.

I have never seen two big masculine men sobbing together in a parking lot before. Complete strangers for a brief moment sharing the same pain.

It was very moving.

 

A sibling’s viewpoint on autism awareness  

April is autism awareness month as quite a few of you are aware of. I have been seeing a lot of arguments lately about autism awareness vs. trying to find a cure. I’ll be honest, it is pissing me off. The comments seem to be all about accepting people the way they are (which is great) vs. changing the way people are. As if by trying to find a cure, we are somehow not accepting people the way they are. That is ridiculous!

I have an analogy for you. Let’s play a little pretend. For a second, let’s pretend that autism is depression. Perhaps you have a sibling with a mild case of depression. His depression made him a great artist. Some days he can paint and create wonderful masterpieces. The next day, he can’t get out of bed. When you take him out to restaurants he cries and that embarrasses you. You don’t want to take the depression away because then he might not be a great artist. But you want everyone to know he is depressed because sometimes he acts in ways that are not socially acceptable.

Now I am going to paint another scenario. Perhaps you have a sibling that is depressed. But your sibling has one suicide attempt after another after another. It tears your whole family apart. 

If you lived out the first scenario, good for you. I’m glad that you were able to go to restaurants and do things that other normal families get to do. I can understand why you might be holding the awareness and acceptance card. But we lived out scenario number two. 

When my mother got her first black eye and bloody lip, it was autism.

When my brother banged his head against the wall over and over, it was autism.

When my brother rocked himself to sleep until he got blood on his sheets, it was autism.

For the scars people could see, it was autism.

For the scars people couldn’t see, it was autism.

When I lost my best friend, it was autism.

When my brother was lead out of school in handcuffs, it was autism.

When family and friends turned away, it was autism.

When my brother was ridiculed and mocked, it was autism.

When he chased me with a knife, it was autism.

When my parents had to find a caregiver to attend my wedding, it was autism.

When my daughter was attacked, it was autism.

Of course, I want a fricken cure!

May God have mercy on all those that suffer from this. I am hoping that someday autism will be a preventable.

You have no idea how terrified I was to have children. Or how nervous I was when my brother Luke had children. Or how much I worry about the possible future family of my brother Mark and his new bride. I don’t know if any of us have the strength to live through that again.

My mom always said that my brother Matt did not do these terrible things, it was autism. 

Autism you suck! Why did you do this to my brother?

 

Depression, my old friend

In response to my neighbor’s suicide…

I understand your struggle…

When I grew up, my childhood was very difficult. It was so difficult that the big people in my life could barely cope with the circumstances that they had to deal with. In early childhood I developed two friendships to help me cope, depression and anxiety.

Depression was a close friend of the family. My dad made friends with depression too. Sometimes when the house was really quiet, I was afraid of what he might do. My brother Mark found friendship with depression too. When he was a teen, my mom found several nooses in the tree. I knew the temptation. I knew the struggle.

In late childhood, I tried to break my friendship with depression but she fell in love with me.

When I became an adult, I learned how to live with my friend. I kept myself very busy so I wouldn’t have time for my friend to visit. I worked harder and harder. When my friend noticed I was free, she would visit me.

Have you ever been suicidal before? Do you know what it is like to be that depressed? I do. It is very frightening. Thoughts and images popping into my head of my own demise over and over again. Me in the bathtub with slashed wrists. Driving very fast into a tree. A loaded gun. An empty bottle of pills. Horrible, intrusive thoughts that invade my mind unwanted. The more I try to push my friend away, the more she clings.

Over time I learned how to cope with having a difficult friend. I am a workaholic. Keeping busy keeps her away. I have a strong faith that exorcises my demons. I try to outrun my demons by running 100 miles a month. I take massive doses of vitamin D over the winter months. I try to have something to look forward to. I find the support of family and close friends who have survived difficult times.

What can others do to help that haven’t experienced it? Listen without condemnation. Allow venting, even if it means listening to things you don’t want to hear. Don’t tell them to get over it even if it has been several years since they experienced the initial pain. Sometimes being a good friend is encouraging others to seek professional help.

Does that mean that I no longer get depressed? No. Sometimes when I go through hard times, my friend comes back to help me. A few months ago when I was having difficulties with my son, she visited me for awhile. I spent a long time staring off into space. This is very hard to explain, but when I stared off into space I felt peaceful. When you sink down low enough, sometimes you feel so empty that even the pain is gone. It is a very alluring trap. I had to pull myself out of that dark void. I feel sorry for those that struggle to break free.

Over the years, I learned a few things about my friend. It is okay to feel sad. Sometimes the negative feelings in our life motivate change. During difficult times and emotions, I tell myself that the feelings will pass. I also tell myself over and over that I have felt this way before and survived it. I know how to cope, how to get through.

I am trying hard to face all of the feelings that were locked away for so many years. Writing has been very therapeutic. Maybe if I write honestly about my experiences and struggles, then others won’t feel so all alone. I am okay. You will be okay too. Find a way to cope. Be understanding toward others that struggle. Maybe it will prevent one more unnecessary death.

Training like a warrior (oops, I meant worrier)

The dishes are done. The laundry is folded and put away. I just put on my pajamas and am sitting on the recliner with my feet up. Lazy? No way, I took a half a day off of work to run 20 miles. I did it and it went better than I expected. The last couple of miles were dreadful, but I did it. I admit I was a little worried. This has been the most miles that I ran since the marathon last summer. My endurance hasn’t been what I wanted it to be lately. I almost feel out of shape. Treadmill running is tough, but I am satisfied with how I did today. I was wondering if I don’t have what it takes anymore. I am not getting any younger.

I thought that after I was done running that I would feel better, but I don’t. I feel edgy, worried. I feel like the pattern is off. Some detail is out of place, but I can’t figure out what is wrong. I feel like something bad is going to happen. Call me crazy, you wouldn’t be the first. Maybe it is the rain. It hasn’t stopped raining in days. 

Or maybe I feel a little self-conscious about opening up to you. Things are getting a little too personal and I want to step back. I want to pull away. You are starting to find out who I am. Maybe you won’t like the real me. Sure, I can tell you a lot of good things about me. I could tell you stories of how I like to save birds or give people their lost wallets back. But what about the bad? I feel vulnerable and afraid. I am not leaving, but sometimes I want to.

Or maybe I feel edgy because this morning I got a text from another mom warning me of a new potential threat. We just severed Alex’s ties to his druggie friend last week just to have another come walking through the door. If my son wants to do drugs, there is nothing that I can do to stop him. I wish I had full control. I like to play God instead of trusting Him. 

I need to relax…Grrrr.. Tomorrow I made lunch plans with my mom. Then we are going to get a massage. I thought that it would be great to get my long run in today so the massage tomorrow will feel even better. I am not in a lot of physical pain, just the normal aches and pains of a long run. No knee pain which is great. Then tomorrow night I will be watching Angel perform in her last high school play. I am so proud of her, I always have been. She got straight A’s this quarter. Paul and I always told the kids that if they got straight A’s we would take them out to a restaurant of their choice. It has been close, but this is the first time it happened. Finally some good news!!

P.S. I decided to make some split pea soup with the leftover Easter ham. I put yellow split peas, carrots, and potatoes in the slow cooker all day along with the rest of the ham on the bone. It was the first time I made it in the slow cooker. It was the best batch that I have ever made. It was more soupy than thick. Yum. I didn’t eat much all day with running so I had two bowls. I hope I don’t regret that tomorrow. 

Last(ing) things

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night crying from a nightmare. In my dream, Paul and I were in some sort of clinic. Someone we knew was close by and received good news. They were expecting a child after years of trying. But we received bad news. I dreamed that Paul had cancer too. We were going to watch his mother die, then he was going to die of the same thing. It was all very horrifying. I woke up upset and crying. I reached over and held onto Paul tightly.

Back in October, Paul’s mother Martha came out to Alex’s confirmation. She had been sick for over a year at that time. She had a cough that would not go away which her doctor said was caused by medicine that she was taking. She was always sick with sinus infections or bronchitis. When we saw her in October, she was wheezing, short of breath, and gasping for air. She looked horrible. We told her to go back to the doctor.

In November, the doctor found a tumor in her stomach and lung. They thought that the tumors were the same kind, that they  would be easily treated with a pill. She was going to be okay. Martha already survived breast cancer 15 years ago. 

Then in January, the doctor found out that the tumors were two different unrelated kinds. In February, Martha was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal lung cancer. The cancer filled one lung and was moving into the other. Then last week, she found out that the cancer had moved into her brain.

Martha is now taking a combination of chemo and radiation. Last week Martha lost her long shiny hair. I haven’t seen her yet without hair. That is going to hit us all hard. I am glad that Paul was given some forewarning to take the time to say good bye. I have to forgive her for all of the past hurts. 

Our relationship with Martha has always been volatile, especially in the earlier years. When Paul and I bought our first house, Martha wanted to help me make curtains. We went together and I spent more than I expected to on material. We started the project, but before we could finish Martha got into a big fight with her son and left me with unfinished curtains. My grandma helped me finish the project.

There were countless times that Paul and Martha would fight. Martha screamed at Paul and kicked him out of her house anytime that we had to discipline the kids. She would show up late for holidays. It has been years since we celebrated any holiday with Martha. Sometimes she would cancel out at last minute or not show up at all.

One time Martha and I were going to take the kids to a water park. She was running late to the point where we weren’t going to be able to make the trip worthwhile. This was the only time that I confronted her. She didn’t talk to me for a year.

Martha often called and spoke of gambling trips that she took with friends then complained that she didn’t have money for gas to come see the kids and their events. Our relationship was marked with a lot of anger, hurt, and resentment. She is a difficult person that likes to argue and say hurtful things, and now she is dying.

This week she called Paul and asked him what we were doing for Easter. We have plans with my family. Today is Matt’s 40th birthday. My whole family will be getting together to celebrate Matt’s birthday on Saturday and then Easter on Sunday. We are able to see each other as a group a couple of times a year. I told Paul that we could cancel the Easter plans with my family to see his mother. It most likely will be her last Easter. Paul decided to keep our plans as is. 

I forgive you, Martha! I will try to remember the good times. When you weren’t crabby, you were always so much fun. Your fun loving, upbeat, optimistic attitude is hard to beat. You provide a lot of excitement. There was never a dull moment with you. You are always happy with the littlest things. You are content with what you have. You try to make the most out of situations. You always had good intentions. 

By far the best gift that Martha gave me was her son. She made the right decision when she decided to keep her unwanted pregnancy. For that, I will be forever grateful.  

 

Grace uncommon, part 6

Aunt Grace lost her driver’s license.

Another uncommon quirk about Aunt Grace was that she was always in a hurry to go somewhere. This may not seem that unusual on the surface. The strange part was that once she got where she was going, she was always in a hurry to leave. For example, a couple times a year Aunt Grace would make the one hour drive up north to the cabin during the off season when it was all closed down. She would get there, look at the cabin from inside of her car, see that it did not burn down over winter, then turn around and drive back home.

There were countless times that this happened. The biggest example that I can give you was when we went on the trip to South Dakota. Aunt Grace signed up for women’s church conference. My mom, dad, Luke, and I accompanied her on this trip in her small car. Thankfully my dad did all of the driving!

When we got to the conference, Aunt Grace checked in and received her conference bag. Then we looked around the conference hall, left, and didn’t come back. I convinced Aunt Grace to go to a water park 2 hours away. Once we got there, Aunt Grace asked for a tour of the water park. I saw lots of kids having fun and couldn’t wait to go. After the tour was done, Aunt Grace said that I saw the water park and that it was time to go. I cried and begged her to be able to go. She didn’t seem to understand. She said that it was time for lunch instead. I refused to eat. I stayed in the car. Aunt Grace was upset that I didn’t eat and called me an ungrateful child. I told her to shut up. To Grace those two words were like the worst obscenities in the world. She never forgave me for this, ever. I complained to my mom, “How could we tour the water park and not go?” My mom replied, “Aunt Grace is paying for the trip so we will do what she wants to do.”

After that Aunt Grace wanted to swing through Wyoming to see the Devil’s Tower. We stayed there for about 45 minutes then started the trip back home to WI. Except that Grace was not ready to go home yet. She wanted to stop in Canada to buy her favorite tea. So we drove many hours out of the way to get her tea. We sat in line at customs for an hour to go into Canada for 20 minutes to get her tea. On the way back through customs, they searched our whole vehicle. Who drives all the way up to Canada for 20 minutes?? Aunt Grace, that’s who.

Over time, the hurried trips became fewer and fewer. Aunt Grace’s driving got worse than it was before. She stayed closer to home.  My grandma complained that she was all over the road. Other people started commenting to us about her poor driving. When it was time to renew her license, she did not pass the vision test with glasses. She lost her license and was beginning to lose her vision as well.

This was also the beginning of the end. Sometimes I sit and think. I try to make sense out of everything that happened. I don’t understand. What Grace did to me was cruel. But I don’t think that she ever meant to be cruel. That is what I don’t (can’t) understand. She didn’t relate with others in a normal way. Sometimes I wonder if Grace was in the Autism Spectrum. Is this the line where everything started? 

Grace was not the only one that seemed anxious going or staying somewhere. My grandpa and Uncle Harold would only go somewhere if they had to. When they got there, they would stay for the shortest amount of time that was socially acceptable. My grandpa would drive my grandma to the store and stay in the car. I have never seen him go in a restaurant. He didn’t even go to my wedding. Now my dad is showing the same pattern of behavior. He doesn’t go to the kids events. He shows up for parties for the least amount of time that is acceptable or finds excuses not to show up at all. Once when Paul and I were in a real bind, my dad stayed with our kids while we were gone for the night. He sat in the car all night. He did not come in at all or even talk to the kids.

I don’t understand. I can’t relate. But if I did, would I take on these strange family traits?

 

 

 

A storm is brewing

I feel the edginess right before the storm hits. The peacefulness and calm from my vacation is leaving slowly like a summertime tan. I feel the wind surround the emptiness inside of me, trying to find a void to fill with cold icy snow. The warmth and sunshine are gone now. Sorrow, darkness, and anger encapsulates me. I cry out to God, but He doesn’t seem to hear my prayers. I feel the tug of emotions trying to drown me in a river of despair. I am alone. I want to be alone. I don’t want to talk. I really don’t want to do anything.

It has been a hard start of the year. I miss my neighbor and friend that passed away a couple of weeks ago. Every time I look at her house, I think that she is still there. She will pull her car out of the driveway and wave at me. We were supposed to do something together next week. But guess what? I can’t go. I looked over the old messages that she sent me. My heart tells me that she is still alive. She just can’t come outside. My brain tells me to stop being such a fool. Stop pretending that things are fine.

Last summer my best friend moved to Florida. I had the opportunity to spend time with her while we were there on vacation. I didn’t realize how much I missed talking to her and seeing her. I miss her. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else. In 4 months, my oldest daughter will be leaving the house. I am excited for her to start the adult chapter in her life, but I am at such a loss. I started crying while she performed her solo and ensemble song for me. It bothered me that she sold her junior prom dress. It just seems so final.

Then yesterday we found out that my mother-in-law has stage 4 terminal lung cancer. They are giving her around 15 months to live. Wait a minute, I am not ready to deal with the loss of our parents yet. I have been having a hard time with this since I saw her last week. I have been feeling sad and angry. With all of the people that were praying for her and my friend that passed away, why didn’t God heal them? I don’t have any control. Why should I expect miracles? I feel helpless. Who can avoid death? It has given Paul time to say goodbye to his only parent. That has been good for him to spend time with her.

This morning my son got suspended from school. He got in a fight with someone in the hallway. It has been no secret that my son has been struggling with school for the last couple of months. He has been begging us to switch schools for a couple months now. Apparently a boy called him a faggot on facebook back in December and has been bullying him with some other kids. My son got in his face today. I suppose that it shouldn’t surprise me that the day after my son finds out that his grandma is dying that he confronts this other boy. Words were exchanged between my son and this boy. They were pushing and shoving each other in the hallway. Then I received a call from the school that my son was suspended for 3 days. He was trying to provoke the other kid that was picking on him. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe we can finally resolve this issue head on.

We are expecting a snow storm today. We should be getting somewhere around 8 inches of snow with blowing winds. It just started to snow.

Travel woes, the mess we returned to

The first 24 hours upon our return from Orlando was such an emotional roller coaster ride that it rivaled some of the roller coasters that we were on during our vacation. While we were gone, we had icy roads. School was delayed. On the way to work, our employee hit a patch of black ice propelling her into the ditch. It wasn’t her first accident, she was so upset that she could barely work. On our way home, we saw a car in the ditch. Disoriented people were wandering around outside of their car in the middle of the highway. We faced the prospect of having to shovel 5 inches of heavy icy snow when we got home that evening.

While we were gone, we hired my daughter’s 17 year old friend to pet sit. She has been our pet sitter for the past two years without any issues. That being said, we were not prepared for the mess that was waiting for us. When we got home, our pet sitter was stuck in our unshoveled driveway. Our garbage bin was lying in the ditch tipped over spewing out garbage that was put out too late to be picked up. We parked our car on the road, running into the house quickly getting hit with blowing snow while jumping over snow banks. When we got inside, there were piles of dog crap everywhere along with rings of piss and puke in multiple locations all over our living room carpet. The floors were filthy, there was dog shit caked on our toilet seat. 

Our pet sitter started crying saying that she got a second job and asked her mom to help her with the pets. Her mother is absolutely crazy. She is the woman that the neighbor’s called the cops on because she would speed around the school bus while its stop sign was out. She also overfed her own dog from her hand. She somehow thinks that people don’t feed their dogs enough. It seemed as if she overfed our dog without letting him out. There were 4 piles of puke which contained a total of about 2 cups of food, our dogs total daily food allowance. Our dog seemed sick when we got home and threw up again during the night. I started cleaning up the mess while our pet sitter cried hysterically. Paul was able to get her out of the driveway and start on the shoveling. After our pet sitter went home, she got into a huge fight with her mother where things were broken and thrown. 

While I was cleaning up, I noticed a couple of wet stinky towels bunched up underneath the rest of the towels. It looked like someone was cleaning up a mess but trying to hide it. Then the kids and I noticed that some of our things in our bedrooms were out of place. Someone went through all of our personal belongings. I have never felt so violated and sickened in my life. I cried thinking of how my pets were not cared for properly. The house was absolutely trashed. Paul and I were finally were able to get to bed around midnight. When I woke up the next morning, I discovered more poorly cleaned up piss rings on the carpet. We ending up spending as much money renting a carpet cleaner that we did paying our house sitter. I am kicking myself for not taking pictures of the mess we returned to.

The next day I headed back to work. I was so busy catching up from the time that I spent away that I didn’t have time to do any more cleaning. To make matters worse, my in-laws were coming over that night for supper. My mother-in-law was going to be in the area because she needed a PET scan. Back in November, the doctors found a tumor in her stomach and lungs. They did a biopsy on the tumor in her stomach because that was less invasive. They found that the tumor in her stomach was highly treatable, so we decided to go ahead with our vacation plans. In December, the doctors decided to do a biopsy on my mother-in-law’s lungs. She had a collapsed lung and pneumonia which they treated with heavy duty antibiotics. But what was troubling was the finding that the cancer in her lungs was a different kind of cancer that was in her stomach. They are afraid it may be in other organs. She had breast cancer 15 years ago, now 2 different cancers in 2 different organs. Monday we will get the test results.

When I got home from work on Thursday night, my mother-in-law was sitting in the recliner wrapped in a blanket. She did not feel good enough to go out to eat so we ordered food instead. She was so frail, weak, and sickly looking. It was hard to see her like that. When she left she spoke in a hoarse strained voice. She told us all that she loved us. She told Angel that she would like to see the college that she picked out someday. This is the point that Angel ran into the other room crying. My mother-in-law said good bye to me. She thanked me for being a great wife to her son. It seemed so final. I went in the other room to cry and comfort Angel. 

The beginning and end of our vacation was very rough. I am glad that we were able to get away for a couple of days of fun. I am afraid that the next couple months will be very difficult. I guess we will find out for sure on Monday.