loss

I am thankful I already lost my mind..

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Things have been crazy busy around here. I have been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Or should I say turkey? Would that be more seasonal?

I am getting ready to have Thanksgiving at my house.

Tomorrow Angel is coming home from college. This has been the first time she has been home since August.

The guys just got back from deer hunting. My son Alex shot his first deer. He also played a trick on me. I asked him to send me a picture of his buck and he sent me a picture of a Bambi. Horrible thing to do. Then he told me it was too little to keep. He said he was going to throw it into the woods for the wolves. I was mortified.

He was just kidding. He found a picture of a Bambi online. Real funny! Not…He has my awful sense of humor…Oh deer..

I knew that they would get a deer because last month we got a quarter cow and this week we are getting a half a pig. The freezer is full…so of course the guys wouldn’t come home empty handed.

Alex wants his new girlfriend to come over for Thanksgiving. I feel like it is too soon since he just broke things off with Baylee. I wanted some explanation to why they broke up. Alex told me that Baylee was fake. He said that she was lying to us the whole time. He asked me if I really believed that Baylee didn’t drink at the underage drinking party at the cabin. She portrayed herself as a reluctant party goer…almost like a mother hen…or a nun. Paul and I wanted Alex to pay her share of the party damage fees. All this time he was covering for her lies..

The new girlfriend looks a little like Baylee…so the family we haven’t seen in months might think it is her..

Paul’s step-dad, Darryl, will be here. This year his wife passed away. Lately Darryl has become obsessed with online dating.

My uncle Rick will be in attendance as well. He is newly divorced for the holidays and has nowhere to go. On a side note, uncle Rick and his ex go to the same gym as I do…I have to budget an extra 20 minutes into my workout now to listen to them bitch about each other..

Then my mom will be here…my brother Matt…my brother Luke and his family. My antisocial dad will stay home and my brother Mark is not coming. This will be the first time that Matt is around Luke’s girls since he went off of his anti-psychotic meds and wanted to kill them.

Thanksgiving will be the test to see if Matt will be okay around Luke’s daughters again. I think things will be okay. His hallucinations are gone and so is his fixation with the girls since he is medicated again. We have been dealing with this for so many decades now, but it doesn’t make things easier.

So, I will be hosting Thanksgiving at my house.

Last month I had my daughter Arabella’s confirmation at my house.

Next month I will be hosting Christmas and New Year’s. Time to buy a bigger house if I have to do all of this party hosting..We are crammed in this cracker box house tighter than ten boxes of stuffing in a small turkey..

If you don’t hear from me for a few days…I am cleaning, I am cooking, I am party hosting…

Hopefully I am not prying my brother Matt off of my nieces, explaining how Alex’s girlfriend is not Baylee although she looks like her, wiping away tears for the first holiday without my MIL Martha, talking with Darryl for hours about online dating, or commiserating with Rick on how much his ex sucks..

Oh, did I mention that almost everyone has a special diet??

Have a happy Thanksgiving! Gotta love my crazy family! Thank God I already lost my mind or I wouldn’t be able to deal with all of this!! There is never a dull moment.

Maybe you are lucky to have a prim and proper boring family. That was never my lot in life…

You will hear from me in a few days, unless I have the nervous breakdown I so rightly deserve…or maybe a midlife crisis…I just can’t decide!

 

Confirmed complications

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In a few weeks, my youngest daughter will be confirmed. So far there are so few people attending that I might not have to clean my house.

My oldest daughter has to work late the night before confirmation. There is no way that she can switch with someone. She felt bad because she had the dates wrong on her calendar and told her sister she was coming home. Angel said that she was willing to get up at 4 AM and drive the 8 hour round trip just to attend the ceremony. I told her not to.

I called my brother Luke last night and his family is not coming either.

This past summer my brother Luke got a big promotion. He was thrown a huge party, but I didn’t attend. He mentioned bitterly after my apologies for not attending that he was upset his wife’s siblings attended, but his own siblings did not. I told him again that I was sorry. Paul and I had our 20th anniversary trip planned out before I even heard of his party.

Growing up, we were never encouraged to support our siblings endeavors. Luke didn’t attend my college graduation or party because he was too hungover. Granted, he was a teenager then and I am in my 40’s now. I am happy that he has a successful career. I felt bad that I couldn’t be there, but I wasn’t going to cancel our vow renewal anniversary trip. I guess he is mad at me now..

My dad and my brother Mark only attend social events that they are required to. You will never hear my brother Mark’s childhood story. It is locked away in some deep dark place to be buried with him.

Mark gave up drinking. He said that it made him feel better not to. He has stomach issues like me and half of the family. He was the one that started drinking the previous summer while we were up north at 6 in the morning. He said he gave up drinking on January 1st for health reasons, but it sounds like a New Year’s resolution to me. I am happy that he is feeling better.

I rarely saw my brothers at all this summer.

My brother Matt tore up the whole family this year. After he was taken off of his anti-psychotic meds because of liver strain, he started hallucinating again. He became fixated on Luke’s young daughters and expressed a desire to kill them. He was put back on the medicine, but it might take months for it to be fully effective again.

Before he was originally put on the medicine, he was fixated on hurting my daughter Angel. We had to limit their contact with each other, but he did hurt Angel on her 4th birthday. This was before he was placed in a group home. This started a time of deep isolation from my family. They spent weekends up north together, but I wasn’t included.

Matt has always fixated on hurting little girls. I should know, I was the first little girl. That was before we heard about the voices. This summer my mom had fear again. She was afraid to take Matt to his appointments because there might be little girls there. Little girls that he could hurt and she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

My brothers and I helped my mom take Matt to appointments when we were younger. We had to be hyper vigilant to signs that Matt might be getting agitated. My mom would try to make appointments when there weren’t little girls coming in to the doctor. But that didn’t always work. At times adults would bring little girls with them to appointments. Sometimes we had to sneak in through the back door. My brothers became quite effective in restraining Matt. It usually took a couple of people to pry him off.

This summer Matt was on lock down. He couldn’t go on trips to the library or to the bowling alley with his group. My mom became fearful of doctor appointments again. It was stressful up north with young kids playing next door. Matt talked to the voices this summer. He laughed like a mad man to whatever the voices said. He is starting to get better…but will he be able to be around the children for the holidays??

So, at this time, only my mom is attending Arabella’s confirmation besides our immediate family.

Paul’s mom and step-dad are Arabella’s sponsors. Paul’s mother passed away this year from cancer. Her husband Darryl moved on with life. Darryl recently told Paul all about his love life with his new girlfriend. It makes us very uncomfortable. We are not ready for someone new to take his mother’s place. We don’t want to meet a new lady at the confirmation. I’m not sure if Darryl will be there.

Whoever would’ve thought a confirmation could be so complicated??

Crossed i’s

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I had every intention of posting another day on my travel log. Although I have been working on it for a few days, it seems to be lacking something. Emotion, perhaps? Oh, I think I will more than make up for it today.

It has been a rough week. I haven’t been sleeping. For every good night of sleep, there are 9 nights of not sleeping well. Maybe if I felt rested things would be easier for me.

I awoke this morning crying. My MIL visited me in a dream. She looked the way she used to, all full of life before the cancer devastated her body. We hugged and said how much we missed each other. Then her husband Darryl started giving me his belongings in the dream and we feared he would commit suicide. It was all rather horrifying and something that we worry about.

Loss is hard. It hurts sometimes to care about other people.

I found out this week that one of my best friends is moving a couple of hours away. This weekend my daughter will be leaving to go back to college. I feel pretty bummed out. I feel a little lost actually.

To make things worse in my life…while I was updating my travel post for the ninetieth time, I received a phone call from a friend of a friend. It wasn’t a social call. It was a call asking what my son was doing this past weekend.

Apparently, my son was going to pick up his daughter to go to her cabin for a party. Her dad busted her with alcohol and grounded her. She told her friends to go ahead without her. So about 20 teens showed up at her family’s cabin, did some hard core underage drinking, and trashed the place.

It didn’t go well confronting my son. We implemented a no staying overnight at friend’s houses policy for a month, a curfew of 10, and he would have to contact the parent to apologize for his part in the party. He was really upset when we told him he also needed to contact his girlfriend’s parents. He was afraid that her parents would make her break up with him. Thankfully for him his girlfriend told her mom about it.

It’s been really hard to concentrate at work with all of the stress and lack of sleep. Next week we have an auditor coming in. We need to make sure all of our t’s are crossed and our i’s are dotted. I feel like I’m crossing my eyes.

We had employees take off this week due to illness or sick kids. I felt a little jealous. Is that sick or what?? Maybe if I was sick I would be able to sleep and be oblivious to the world around me.

Don’t worry…tomorrow I will post about travel. There will be a lot of nice pictures and a lack of nasty little emotions.

Sweet baby

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It happened on Father’s Day..

His first, his last..

I don’t even know him or the baby for that matter.

But I knew his mother from a long time ago, when she was a little girl growing up next door.

It seems hard to believe that I lived somewhere long enough in my adult life to watch a child grow up. She was so young when I first met her…younger than my kids are now.

When she outgrew her bike, she gave it to my daughter.

Now my daughter grew up and left home too.

I wonder what happens to the bicycles when there are no more little legs left to ride them.

The neighbor girl grew up to become a social worker. She rescues children from bad homes but couldn’t save her own child. The horrible injustice of it all must scratch at her wounded heart.

The funeral is tomorrow. It must be hard to pick out the last little outfit that your baby is going to wear in his coffin. I feel so much sorrow for you as I write this.

How devastating to have your baby ripped from your arms so unexpectedly. It’s hard to imagine him in a better place, a place without you.

Do you blame yourself?

Maybe if I noticed something wrong sooner…maybe I should’ve picked him up more when he fussed…maybe I should’ve stayed home with him longer before going back to work…maybe…maybe…maybe…this wouldn’t have happened..

It wasn’t your fault.

I can’t imagine the pain that you are feeling.

I’m so sorry you lost your sweet baby.

 

 

 

 

Midlife is getting old

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Sorry to have possibly scared a few new parents yesterday with my talk about raising teenagers. I usually am more confident in my decisions. As the kids get older the decisions seem to be so much more difficult…As the old saying goes…Bigger kids, bigger problems..

How can I not be nervous? The decisions they make the next few years will be some of the biggest in their lives. They will decide who (if) to marry, if they want children, where they are going to live, their career path…pretty much everything that will effect the rest of their lives.

That is scary as a parent…letting go…letting them make their way..watching them learn lessons the hard way..

I can’t seem to relate to new parents anymore. I guess that is a clear giveaway that I am getting old..

Paul asked the other day if I missed having young children. “No” was my reply. Some of my friends are grandparents.

It has been a year full of changes so bear with me. I am entitled to go a little crazy every once in awhile.

My oldest daughter left home for college, then less than six months later Paul lost his mother. Together we lost our first parent and our oldest left.

We can see how the decisions our parents made in their young years effected the whole direction of their lives for good and for bad. Now we are seeing what path our children will take.

Within the last six months I also lost my last ‘great’ and now my parents attained the status of oldest living relatives. And I thought my parents were old when I was a kid!

This whole midlife thing is starting to get old. The kids are starting to leave home while our parents are starting to age rapidly and die.

I want to enjoy every single moment of life that I can.

This morning I awoke to the news that the baby of my neighbor’s daughter passed away unexpectedly. Last year my neighbor lost his wife and she was only 45. It just doesn’t seem fair. I feel such sorrow for the family.

It also makes me appreciate the blessings I have. It makes me want to squeeze my kids tight. Although I am not too sure they would like that.

I am doing the best that I can. I am trying to make the best decisions that I can for my kids. That will have to be good enough.

I am trying to grasp life and enjoy what I can now because this is as young as I am ever going to be.

Survival stories

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Over this past week, we have been hit by several severe storms. There was one day that it didn’t storm. Tornadoes blew through the area.

My daughter, Arabella, was at camp all week. They had to take shelter several times due to the severe storms. For once, I didn’t worry too much. I grew up fairly close to the area that my daughter went to camp. I knew exactly where the storms hit. I knew the campers weren’t in the storms path. By the time I knew a storm was coming, it had already passed that area.

After I picked up my daughter from camp, I went to the cemetery to see if my grandparents ‘survived’ the storm. I checked on their parents and siblings too. It seemed like a strange thing to do, since they all have been dead for almost a decade or more. I don’t get out that way to visit too often.

I remember going as a child along with my grandma and Aunt Grace to check on our family at the cemetery after a storm. Now, regrettably, it felt like my turn.

I drove by my grandparents house. The new owners put up a decorative fence in the front yard. At Aunt Grace’s house, the new owners put in a new front door and constructed a flower bed where a tree used to be. It is still painful to drive by.

I stopped at my parents house, but they weren’t home. It was oddly silent. I feel a certain sadness when I go home. I can’t explain it. I feel nostalgia for what was. I feel grief for things that happened that shouldn’t have. I feel an emptiness, a sense of being alone. It is a painful feeling, but ever so slightly, an uneasiness that almost cannot be pinpointed.

I picked asparagus in my parents backyard as I saw lightening and heard the rumble of distant thunder. I felt empty, alone, and a little afraid. Afraid of being vulnerable out in the open. I felt the emptiness of it all. Soon my parents will be gone. I still regret not spending every moment with my loved ones that I could before they were gone. Guilt. But not even deserved. I spent a lot of time with my family. My mother didn’t want to let me go, so I stayed. I’m the dutiful firstborn that never went far from home. I was needed.

As I ventured out and about this week, I talked to others that faced the storm. People are drawn to tales of destruction, to view the carnage. People want to share their survival stories. I spoke to a stranger that said his family had several collector cars that were destroyed by the tornado after the shed they were in blew away. Cars that were loved, the original parts sought after. I saw pictures. How often does a stranger show you picture after picture on their phone??

I heard the story of a barn the was destroyed in the storm. The cows were lost and some blew away. Half of the cows were found down the road impaled into the ground. These are survival stories being told by people grasping for others who can relate.

I thought about the stories I heard, then realized that I am the same way. I want to tell my story. I want to feel united in life’s collective struggle. They may not be the same stories, but have the common key of surviving something difficult.

I told you this week about a couple of stories where we survived sailing under difficult circumstances that were unexpected. I tell you about my races, how grueling the last triathlon and marathon were. My struggles as a parent, spouse, business owner, and with my own personal issues. I speak of surviving a very difficult childhood. I often feel alone because I don’t hear a lot of people with a similar story.

Who else out there has a severely mentally ill sibling that threatened to kill the youngest most vulnerable family members? Beside my siblings, I know of no other person who has that story to tell. It is lonely struggling alone.

My favorite bloggers are those that have struggled too. I don’t read your stories because I like to see you in pain or your failure. Your stories motivate me to go the extra mile. They inspire me to keep telling my story.

I almost feel sorry for people that don’t have a story to tell.

Some harmless, some hidden

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Memories swirl around in my mind. Some harmless, some hidden..

…laughter of teenage girls…the lighter flicks…not to smoke…melting the tip of the eye liner so it glides on easier…

I put on eye liner for the show. It goes on easy. It almost smears, unlike the sharp pencil of my younger years…Does anyone use a lighter anymore to soften their eye liner pencils?

…I see a younger face in the mirror, then she is gone..

A harmless memory..

An interview for the show…

Were you ever involved in theater before you came to this theater?

…My dad dropped me off at the theater before work…I was the little girl with a small part in the show…I was dropped off early before everyone else…I walked the trails alone in the woods surrounding the theater, sometimes afraid…but it was only a deer…alone…fun on stage…the big kids…the costumes, the makeup…

…The only time alone with my dad…his boss taking him for lunch…maybe I can go too since I ride with him…laughter…why would I take you??

The next summer, I got a part in another play. I was a princess.

…Reading my lines out loud with the other princesses on the grass in a circle in the summer sun…gone…have to drop out…Matt is sick…my mom left for the summer to go to a hospital out of state with Matt…selfish…how could you still want to be in the show…your brother is sick…so lucky that you are not sick…so lucky…anger and tears…some things are more important…crying…no ride…alone…loneliness…missing my mom…fragments of memories reflect off the surface of the dark murkiness in my mind…

Were you ever involved in theater before you came to this theater?

Just one innocent question scratched the surface…I don’t answer…

It has happened before over the years…innocent questions avoided…the explanations too personal…too painful…they shouldn’t be, but are.

Over 20 years later, I walked through the doors of another theater…in another town…and left all those old hidden painful memories behind me..

Or did I?

This mourning

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I was supposed to be sailing around the Caribbean with my husband and new friends this week. We were invited several months back, but declined due to my mother-in-law’s failing health.

I should’ve been dark tanned, bikini clad, beach bumming, having the time of my life with a boat drink in hand. I could really use a break right now.

Instead, I can’t seem to escape the four walls of my mind. It has been one of the roughest weeks in years. I can’t wait for tomorrow to come so this week will finally be over. Wiped away.

Today marks the 9th anniversary of my Aunt Grace passing away. It is also Darryl’s first wedding anniversary without his wife that he buried this week.

I can’t seem to escape the loss and sadness that surrounds me.

The week has been rough enough after burying my mother-in-law and driving 18 hours.

The rest of the week has not been much better.

Yesterday started with an unexpected trip to the doctor’s office. My son has another sore throat and thought he was exposed to strep again. He is currently on antibiotics to clear up an intestinal bacteria he picked up from his grandma at the nursing home while on antibiotics for strep.

We were faced with the prospect of him needing to be treated with an additional antibiotic. If we treated the strep, then the other bacteria could get worse. If we didn’t treat the strep, other family members could catch it making them vulnerable to a worse bug, the intestinal bacteria.

Thankfully, the strep test came back negative. It relieved a lot of my stress, but for the first few hours of my day I was very anxious. I awoke before my alarm went off with this growing paranoia that I accidentally gave my son something with alcohol in it which could make him violently ill on the medication. I was worried when I gave him cough drops, but it was cough syrup I needed to avoid. I also have this strange paranoia that I am going to take his medication by mistake. I am going insane!

After the doctor’s visit, I went to work and faced wave after wave of problems. Things were really busy and stressful. I felt I had to get away for awhile or else I would go nuts. I came home for an extended lunch and cleaned my house from top to bottom. Maybe I am crazy?!?

When I got home from work, Angel called to tell me that she broke up with Mitch her boyfriend of almost 3 1/2 years. I felt another loss. We really like Mitch and think he is a great guy. We have to break up with him too. Angel felt like Mitch wasn’t very supportive to her when her grandma died.

Then I spent the evening with my youngest daughter who says she hates me. She said that I don’t care about her. She said that she wished she was never born. Her despair and anger towards me is almost more than I can handle. She has been having a hard time since her grandma was really sick and dying.

What can I say?? Sometimes life does suck.

It’s strange, although Martha has passed the rumbles of her existence are still felt. I feel it in the sickness my son got from her. I feel it in the ending of a long term relationship. I feel it in Arabella’s anger and sadness.

When will life be fun again? When will we laugh and mean it? When will this weight be lifted?

Oh, this mourning…

The funeral

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The last time we spoke, I was feeling really overwhelmed. My mother-in-law just passed away. My kids were sick. Really, what else could go wrong?

I was trying really hard to be supportive of my family by doing whatever I could to cheer them up. It was the hug while crying. I found their feelings of anger and despair incredibly hard to deal with.

Saturday after posting, I took my daughter Arabella shopping to get a dress for her grandma’s funeral. We also went to get our nails done. I never took her in to get a manicure before and thought that it might bring her a little joy. She was having a hard time with a lot of tears and anger.

While I was running errands with my daughter, the doctor’s office was trying to get a hold of me about my son’s test results. I had to take him to the doctor on Friday instead of going along to plan the funeral. A few weeks ago, my son was on antibiotics for Strep while visiting his grandma in the nursing home a lot. With Martha’s weakened immune system, she came down with an intestinal bacteria that my son ended up contracting while on antibiotics which weakened his immune system. I’ll save you all of the gory details, but it is treatable with anther round of antibiotics.

While I was running around with my daughter, the doctor’s office tried calling me twice. I didn’t hear the phone ring and ended up carrying the phone in my hand while trying on dresses. When they finally got a hold of me, they chastised me saying something like a good parent stays by the phone while expecting a call from the doctor’s office. I wanted to say, “Hey lady, we have been through hell the last couple of days and I am running errands to prepare for his grandma’s funeral”. Instead, I said nothing and it added to my stress. Mark me down in your file as a bad parent, whatever…You have no idea..

Sunday Paul and I spent 8 hours driving to pick up our daughter from college. When we last spoke, she was out of state on tour with her choir. She was having a hard time hearing the news of her grandma’s loss then came down with the stomach flu the next day. I had envisioned her puking all the way home, but thankfully her fever was gone and she was feeling better when we picked her up.

Paul and I had plenty of time to talk on the way. He said that there was nothing out there that prepared him for his mother’s terminal cancer diagnosis. In the next couple of days, I am going to write something about what to expect having gone through it before I forget.

The funeral was on Monday. It was surprising how nice Martha looked. For some reason, that made things a little easier. The pastor gave a really touching sermon. He said that one time Martha heard that he was sick and said that she was praying for him. He said how humbling it was for someone with terminal cancer to be praying for someone with a cold. That was how she was. Then we buried Martha. It just didn’t seem real to me. I spent the last couple of days in a tunnel vision haze unable to think.

Then we went back to Darryl’s house with family to go through Martha’s belongings. Darryl’s sister thanked us for looking out for Darryl. We are not sure what will happen next since Darryl is Paul’s step dad. Darryl doesn’t have any family in the area and we will try to include him in our life as long as he wants to. We met his siblings for the first time at the funeral.

Then yesterday we drove Angel back to college. The real life realization was starting to sink in. Angel had a lot of homework to catch up on from being on tour and an unexpected trip home for the funeral. Paul and I were stressing about problems at work. Paul had a public speaking engagement today for work with over 100 people attending. That is an incredible amount of pressure.

I broke down on the way home. I felt like I was putting my feelings on hold to support everyone else. This time I cried. I mourned. (Not to mention being crazy from not being able to write or exercise).

We returned home last night utterly emotionally and physically exhausted from 18 total hours of driving with a funeral sandwiched in between that.

Every day it has been getting a little bit easier to deal with..

Time, slipping away

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Despite our best efforts, we didn’t make it on time.

Yesterday morning Darryl and Paul went to the nursing home to be with Martha. They each held her hand and spoke of what to do next. The nurse came in and said that she had 3 days left if they left her IV in and about 24 hours if they took it out.

They called Martha’s remaining siblings and family in for a final visit last night and decided to keep the IV in until the family came for one last visit. Then Paul and Darryl left to tie up some things at work intending to return later.

The kids were on their way home early from school and we were going to leave once they got home.

Paul received the call while we were still at work that his mother had passed moments before we were ready to leave.

We thought we would have more time.

When we got to the nursing home we went into her room and said our final good byes. It seemed so surreal. I tricked my mind into thinking she was still with us. Martha looked like she was asleep.

We had a little good bye service in the nursing home chapel.

While this was all happening, my son became seriously ill (I think he will be okay now). It was horrible timing. I was debating whether or not to take him to the ER.

I felt terrible ignoring the family to deal with another crisis.

It was one of the worst days of my life.

We almost got into two car accidents. Someone came close to sideswiping me and someone pulled out right in front of us. Then on the way home I called the doctor’s office, almost hit a fox all while driving on empty.

I felt like I was on empty too.

It was late when we finally got home.

I made a doctor’s appointment for my son first thing this morning.

I feel so sad.

My family is having a hard time dealing with this. My husband feels so lost without his mother. He said he misses her so terribly much already.

This weekend we will be picking our daughter up from college for the funeral. She is on tour right now with the music department. She was going to surprise her grandma by having the choir sing her a song, but there wasn’t enough time.

I had to stop myself from crying at the doctor’s office this morning.

I feel so confused. I’m forgetting the details which rarely happens to me. I feel like I am running on auto pilot without thinking.

I missed planning the funeral arrangements because I was at the doctor’s office.

Then I needed to stop for groceries. We have nothing to eat in the house. We have been making the hour and a half round trip to see Martha almost every day this week. There hasn’t been time to take care of all the little things.

At the store, I saw a daughter helping her elderly father shop. I almost started crying again.

This has been so emotionally and physically exhausting. We haven’t been sleeping well.

At least Paul had the chance to say good bye. Last week, he had the opportunity to visit his mother alone. He told her he loved her, that she was a good mother, and that he appreciated the sacrifices she made for him.

He said it was one of the hardest things that he has ever done, but it was a very special moment.

He wanted to put it off, thinking that he had more time.

But time has a way of slipping away faster than we can keep our hands on it.