Life as I know it

Whew, it’s been awhile which hasn’t been my intention. I was meaning on writing earlier this week, but the dogs jumped the fence and ran away. I had to focus on the problem at hand instead. Thankfully Paul got tags for the dogs with their name along with our address and phone number. We received a phone call several hours after the escape from a farmer who had one of our dogs. Paul went over to pick him up and figured the other dog was nearby. The farmer lived along 150 wooded acres and took Paul with him on his 4-wheeler to search for an hour with no results.

Paul and I both spent a good portion of the day each driving around aimlessly searching, asking people we saw on the road, and driving with our windows down and heat up listening for the stray bark. I was searching for a good picture of our last missing dog, joining groups for missing pets, and just made a post as darkness was quickly approaching when the doorbell rang. Someone found our second dog walking on the road toward home several houses down. It was strange because when our second dog came home, the dogs snarled and fought with each other. Another crisis was averted, but the day was pretty much shot. On a good note, we were grateful to see the kindness of strangers.

Last week I had my follow up endoscopy and my doctor appointment this week. The good news is that my ulcer is gone, but my colitis is still here. They gave me another medicine to try and if things don’t get better in the next two weeks, they are going to put me on a medication for ulcerative colitis. So far no improvement. I’ve been gaining weight like crazy and nothing fits which has not been pleasant.

Arabella also had her doctor appointment and will need to get her tonsils out. The recovery period for her will be two weeks. A lot of people have been telling me it’s a hard surgery for adults. It will be nice to be able to mom her again though.

Yesterday my mom came over for a visit. This week my dad fell and my mom called 911. It took three men to be able to lift him up. My mom showed me pictures of his bruises from falling. She also showed me pictures of his bedsores. I think he needs to go into nursing care, or at the very least they should have a health care worker come out to the house. I told my mom that and asked her what she was planning on doing. I asked my mom several times, but she didn’t even acknowledge that I was speaking to her. She kept saying how hard her week has been and how she is having a hard time. She said she wasn’t invited to visit her sister down in Florida, although her other sister was invited.

I think something needs to be done. But my parents are still ‘competent’. Thankfully my brother Mark and his wife Carla will be visiting my parents this weekend. I’m hoping I can talk to them about the situation and try to get the ball rolling to come up with a plan. Otherwise, Paul and I will be going out to talk with them soon. But even that is complicated with Arabella’s surgery coming up and Paul possibly being out of town for a business trip. Not to mention that my parent’s are the guardian of my disabled brother. It’s just one big mess.

But other than all that, things are going fairly good. I am almost finished with my memoir. I’m planning on getting a couple more tattoos. Next month Paul and I have a trip planned to Hawaii and I’m getting close to crossing off visiting all 50 states off my bucket list. I am happy where I am at in life. Things aren’t perfect, such as with my own health struggles, but I’m adjusting. For the time being, I am not in crisis mode and I’m going to enjoy it as long as it lasts.

Wishing for change

It’s been a stressful start to the holiday week. Yesterday my colitis started to flare up. Thankfully, I was able to take it easy yesterday and today. But tomorrow is another story. I’m scheduled to volunteer twice this week. We are going to celebrate Christmas Eve with my best friend and her family. The kids will be here Christmas day. The following week is pretty much the same. My best friend’s birthday, a Christmas party here with my siblings and family, and friends over New Year’s Eve. I really don’t have time to be sick.

I’ve been feeling stressed out, but not about the holidays and the parties. Last week a previous employee of ours at the business we sold got arrested. It hit me hard. She is going through a really hard time with the loss of several close family members, got into addiction, and made some bad choices that hurt herself and other people. It’s a different story when you see someone you know on the nightly news. Much more personal. People are judging her harshly, but they only know a little of what was going on. This person was very supportive towards me when my daughter was in jail. But to be honest, I don’t want to get involved. I knew she needed help, but I couldn’t help her.

Over the weekend, we had our extended family Christmas party with my mom, her siblings, and their families. My mom got lost again getting there. She started crying when she saw some people. It’s becoming more apparent my mother is slipping into dementia. It’s really hard to face. She is taking care of my dad who cannot walk whom most of the family is estranged from. Plus she is the guardian of my disabled brother. Everything is a huge mess. I think I will have to have some difficult conversations with my brothers next week. I’m the oldest and the one who lives the closest, so a lot of the problems are going to fall on me.

I don’t want to get pulled into other people’s toxic situations when I am not feeling all that healthy myself. Things are going good with Arabella now, but I don’t think it’s always going to be that way. Yesterday her probation officer said she wasn’t allowed to date. If she does go out somewhere with someone, she is supposed to let him know. I think it’s a great rule, but I don’t know how it’s going to be enforced. I never thought it was a great idea to meet up with strangers online. She probably goes on somewhere around two dates per week.

Dealing with all of these issues that are really upsetting to me is not a really great way to handle stress. Some good did come out of it. With the situation of my previous employee, one of my other previous employees reached out that I haven’t heard from in 5 years and we are planning on catching up some time after the holidays.

I plan on reaching out to our previous employee to offer her support. I really feel horrible about the whole thing and wish there was something I could do. There is a part of me that feels guilty as if I could have prevented or changed things. But that thought is not rational. I just want to fix things by removing the suffering, but I’m experienced enough in life to know there is nothing I could’ve done.

My brothers are competent guys. I’m sure we can come up with a good plan of what the next steps are with my parents. I just wish it wasn’t this way, but wishing never changes things.

Just rubbish

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The last couple of weeks of cleaning out my grandma’s house turned up a lot of junk. I would say 90% junk and 10% real treasure. Today’s post is basically trash talk. This weekend I will bring out the treasure. This is just the teaser. We have emptied out 2 dumpsters already. I come from a long line of pack rats, or according to my sister-in-laws borderline hoarders. I feel bad because my future sister-in-law didn’t even meet my grandparents to see how wonderful they were. This dumpster full is mainly from the garage. I am sure that the house will be a couple more dumpsters full. To think my dad said that we could just bag up the garbage and put it on the curb. I told him I wouldn’t do any cleaning until there was a dumpster.

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I found the box above hidden in the back of a closet excited over what might be inside. Surprise, nothing! The 2 years that my parents lived there when I was a baby turned up boxes and bags full of even more crap. Phone books from the 70’s, my baby clothes, stained old elastic shot shirts, and I even found a box with my baby teeth. Gross!

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I did find my grandma’s wedding dress pictured above. I remember trying it on when I was 12, telling my grandma that it will be my wedding dress someday. The problem is that it fit me when I was a tiny 12 year old. My youngest daughter, at 12, is bigger than me now. So, that is not going to happen. Plus the buttons on the back of the dress are rusting and bleeding into the dress. I am thinking of restoring it, but for what purpose? It will never be worn again. I hope someday my grandchildren will not be cleaning it out of my closet not knowing where it came from. No memories of their wonderfully great grandparents.

A little out of range

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This past weekend was long. We spent half of the weekend cleaning out my grandma’s house. The rest of the weekend I did my 12 mile run followed by watching my daughters perform in a summer school musical theater show. It was a little difficult to watch my oldest daughter perform. She had the lead part and as a senior, it was her last summer school show. Her childhood is coming to an end. My mom and Matt came out to the show, which involved some inappropriate public behavior on Matt’s part. Minor stuff, like yawning loudly and getting up to stretch out his legs in the middle of the show. At least they came out, which I appreciated. My in-laws didn’t bother to come to the show, but stopped by shortly after we got home. My daughters asked their grandparents why they didn’t come to the show. They said they were too busy shopping. They were planning on coming out but didn’t show, which is not abnormal behavior for them. I don’t even bother telling the girls that their grandparents were coming just in case. The last time they cancelled out last minute brought so many tears before a show that it wasn’t worth the hurt. I don’t know how they had the audacity to stop by after shopping. It is what it is.

By the time the weekend was over I felt exhausted and a bit troubled. Cleaning out my grandma’s house has forced me to clean out tons of physical and emotional cobwebs. My brother Mark found this oven (pictured above) while cleaning. I recognized it as mine. Inside there were magazine cutouts of finished recipes. Mark said that I must really have liked to cook because the front right burner was wore out. I thought nothing of it. Then this morning it hit me. It started with a small noise at work. Then it took me back. I could hear a horrible grating sound, scratching like nails on a chalkboard over and over. Then I saw Matt’s hand with a big yellow Lego scratching my oven over and over. I think he was loud, screaming. The next time grandma watched us my stove was banished, locked in a shed for 30 years. A few tears escaped my eyes. My heart mourned over the many things I lost.

It never was supposed to be that way, but it was.