A lot of praying, without a prayer

February 7, 2017 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

Playing the waiting game is never the fun and games it sounds like.

Yesterday my mom and Paul’s mom had doctor appointments.

As expected, my mom had the best news. The doctor wasn’t sure if she has glaucoma. She will have to do more waiting. But she does have cataracts and needs surgery.

My mom has always been the best driver that I ever knew, up until recently that is. I noticed little changes, like pulling out in front of traffic when she really didn’t have enough time or showing greater than necessary hesitation.

She is starting to forget little things too. She forgot my sister-in-law’s birthday. She forgot about my daughter’s holiday concerts. I found myself so busy at work that I didn’t have time to remind her either. The gradual decline is troubling at times.

My mother-in-law Martha’s decline has been more of a steep descent lately. She wanted to die at home which is not going to happen. She slept during her oncology appointment yesterday. The doctor decided to stop all treatment and keep her at the nursing home. He used words like keeping her comfortable.

I did start writing about two sentences of a eulogy. Oh, I already wrote it. I wrote it in my head while I was driving, running, and trying to sleep but I can’t seem to write it down on paper.

I started going through the old pictures. I didn’t realize how poor quality they are. The smiling images are not centered, blurry, or dark more often than not. I have gotten used to taking 50 images of the same event and deleting the ones that are not perfect. It’s not like the good old days where we took one or two pictures in an effort not to waste film and having them all turn out bad. I can’t part with the less than perfect images because that is all I have left besides the fading memories.

I feel depressed. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my grandma’s death, next week is the anniversary of the death of Aunt Grace. The despair of death and dying is surrounding me. It makes me feel nostalgic and melancholy on these bleak days of midwinter. This is the month that I lost the most loved ones and another will soon be added to the list.

We last visited Martha at the nursing home on Sunday. How I hate it there. I wondered how the young employees could work there day in and out without pondering their future fate. It seems like a nice place. I haven’t seen anyone mistreated.

What I hate is the joy that is robbed from having no hope. There is no hope that she is going to get better. There is no hope that her life will ever be the same. The despair of not having any hope left is emotionally draining. There is nothing we can do about it. Every time we see her, she is getting worse.

I have always clung to hope in the darkest times, but there isn’t a prayer although there is a lot of praying.

It was hard seeing Martha on Sunday. When we got there, she was laying in an uncomfortable position. We worked together to move her body. I lifted her shoulder while supporting her head. Her words came out in a mumbled whisper. She pointed and we guessed what was being said. She kept saying that her mouth was dry but she didn’t want to drink. She rummaged through her purse for aspirin although she just got pain medicine. She faded in and out of sleep.

Before we leave, we always take her for a walk to see the birds. The nurse carried her into a wheelchair and hooked her up to her portable oxygen tank. Paul pushed the wheelchair as I walked alongside with the IV. You would think that it would be easy to push the IV along but it rolled along like a shopping cart with a messed up wheel. I swerved around as I tried to avoid obstacles trying not rip or twist up her cords that were everywhere.

The birds flitted about in a relaxed manner. The residents spoke of the birds. They spoke of a man that comes around to clip the birds nails and clean out the cages. They spoke of this with great importance. They weren’t in a hurry, they were content to sit and watch the birds like it was the most important thing in the world.

It seemed like a mystery to me. The residents didn’t seem worried or to live in the hustle bustle world of deadlines and time constraints like most of us do, yet they have less time..

Tonight Paul and I will visit Martha. Darryl said that her condition has deteriorated considerably since our visit two days ago. We sense the urgency and are nervous when we hear the phone ring.

It could be any time now..

On a day like today

December 7, 2016 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

It happened on a cold December day like today.

It happened to a woman my age who had children the ages of some of my children.

I wonder what it would be like..to find out that I was pregnant unexpectedly. She was worried that her husband would be upset when she suspected. She told my mother that.

Her oldest child was already married and out of the house. Her youngest child was 8.

For a couple of months, her oldest child and her were pregnant at the same time.

It was in December many decades ago that her last child, a healthy baby girl was born.

My mom who was the second oldest, called her older sister the day after the baby was born.

“She’s dead”, my mom said. “The baby?”, asked her sister. “No, mom”.

Many decades, years, minutes, and seconds have passed since that cold December day. The oldest daughter has already passed away. Most of my aunts and uncles are reaching retirement age. But I still see them long for the mother that left them too soon. When they get together they still read the old letters she wrote. Tales of what was made for dinner the evening before. Stories about nothing important that makes the siblings laugh and cry.

I feel very thankful that I have had my mother in my life so long.

Paul and I are now approaching the loss of our first parent. It really forces us to face death. I thought about it a lot over the trip to Door County last month with my mother and a few of her siblings, especially when they spoke of the loss of their mother. (The picture above is of my mom and her sister).

My mother’s youngest brother, the 8 year old boy at the time of his mother’s death, said in Door County that some of his favorite movies today are the ones that his mother took him to see right before she died. It was really touching.

My oldest uncle was 16 when his mom passed away. I have a 16 year old son. He would be mortified if I told him I was pregnant. It is the age that most teenage boys don’t want anything to do with their mother. I suspect that my uncle felt the same way and felt guilty for wanting to separate from his mother especially after she passed away unexpectedly. He is currently going through a nasty divorce from a woman that I knew for my whole life to be my aunt. At this hard time, he yearns for his mother so much that he has been visiting a medium just to try to talk to her again. It is terribly sad.

My mother said to me many times growing up that she wished her mother was there. She knew that her mother would have helped her raise an autistic child.

I never met my grandma. I have only seen the impact she has had on her children. From this, I know that she was a good person.

I am so blessed to have my mother in my life for this long..

Lost things/prohibited items

November 29, 2016 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

It has been two days since Angel has gone away.

I no longer have anger, that has dissipated into a sadness of sorts..an emptiness..

I decided to make a list of all of the things taken away. Most were directly related to Matt, some indirectly.. I thought that maybe then you would understand why I feel this way.. No one understands.. Maybe my younger brothers.. But these things are too painful to talk about.

The items on this list are things that were taken away, some things forever and some just for a little while.

Things taken away/prohibited items:

Christmas trees
Candles (only allowed on birthday cakes)
Perfume
Hair spray
Nail polish
Anything scented, such as shampoo or lotion.
Tooth paste, for awhile we were only allowed to brush our teeth by dipping our brush into peroxide then baking soda.
House pets
House plants
Cleaning products
Auto exhaust, the cars had to be parked at the bottom of the driveway so the fumes would not come into the house. All clothes items with exhaust fumes had to be removed before entering. All windows needed to be closed if the wind was blowing exhaust fumes towards the house from the road. Following semis was prohibited on the highway.
We got rid of our wood furnace because it was too toxic
Curtains; curtains contain formaldehyde. The curtains were removed and replaced by old blankets.
My dolls, they were taken away for a semester in grade school because I couldn’t focus and got bad grades.
Dairy products, Matt’s food was separated from ours and we were not allowed to eat his. We generally didn’t have snacks, sweets, or foods with artificial colors (anything unhealthy) in the house.
Napkins, they make Matt gag.
Lawn mowers, for a time we had to use a non-gas push mower because of exhaust fumes.
School, we were home schooled for 3 years when Matt’s behavior was too violent to attend school. He had a teacher come to our house.
All childhood friendships.
The ability to relax and feel safe.
Time and attention.
Getting my medical needs met. Matt’s needs were more urgent and important. He required hospital stays, doctor trips to specialists across and out of our home state, which brought on a lot of medical expenses.
Family vacations, technically I never lost this because we never had this.
The use of pesticides of any kind. We were not allowed to wear bug spray. The use of wasp spray was strongly discouraged. The local farmers were told to call us an hour before spraying their fields. After they called, we had an hour to pack our bags and head up north or to grandmas to hide out for a couple of days. If they didn’t call before spraying, we would lock down our house for 2 days or until it rained. Rain purified the air from chemicals.
Going out to eat as a family, I don’t remember this ever happening.
Having both parents attend events because someone had to stay behind and care for Matt.
The freedom to live like a regular teen. I spent my time as a caregiver. I even gave my brother showers.
Permanent markers, glue, stains, and paint.
Bleach, fabric softener, and dryer sheets. I had to scrub my brothers dirty socks in vinegar or lye.
Anything new, new items had to gas out their fumes before being allowed in the house. We also had to run an air purifier and sometimes Matt needed to wear a charcoal mask if there were still toxins in the air.
Newspapers, they had to gas out before coming into the house.
Pipes, my dad used to smoke a pipe in the 70’s every once in awhile. That was no longer allowed.
Teflon coated pots and pans.
Strong emotions, that set Matt off.
The ironing of clothes.
Toys or plastics with toxic scents.
Sometimes we would leave to go somewhere, then have to turn around and come back home because Matt would have a meltdown.
I had to drop out of a play I was in because Matt was in the hospital.
Having my boomboxes destroyed.

Then there were other things…things not easily categorized. Sometimes Matt would run away from home. He would run off into the woods and we couldn’t find him. He would hurt himself and hurt us. We have bled and were bruised. He turned on the water faucets and flooded the house. He kept my brothers up at night and sometimes slept all day. He would have uncontrollable fits of rage.

People called Matt demon possessed..

That is why I hated my life. I wanted to be normal, boring even..

Is there anyone out there who understands?? Anyone at all? I didn’t think so. I feel so all alone.

There are just some demons that can’t be outrun.

I can never look back and consider anything about my childhood normal. Looking back is painful. I avoid telling people about this part of my life..

Why am I telling you?

I want someone to understand my tears.

But more than anything, I would love to erase it all and pretend none of this ever happened.