Been awhile..
A sad post today due to a month that I so wish could be started over. On April 8th my father-in-law passed away after months of hospital visits, misery, and all around bad health. He was such a wonderful man and father figure to me. He loved it when I would take care of him--never batted me away and accepted it with great willingness, he liked me to make him food, get him things, make jokes with him, and was always so good to me and said such wonderful things about me. He was honest to a fault in many ways and never hesitated to tell you what he thought and how things were. His loss is deep and only 12 days before my own father five years ago. P is having a hard time as are the kids but that is something that is expected with such a loss.
Mr. T had a long successful life...from bringing home his quirky Bird Scare Predator Eye and introducing it to NASA creating a name for himself publicly and then not such great success with something called the fishmitt that would never have been a hit with avid fisherman. He even interviewed on the morning show of KQRS which is so far away from the type of man he was. Could probably still find it online somewhere. He traveled to many places including Japan and loved to bring his woman to Mexico for vacations and laze around on the sandy beaches. He never stopped looking for that multi-million dollar discovery to bring his family fame and fortune. Even in his hospital bed he relished his great successes in life, bragging proudly of them.
All his stories of his childhood days he loved to share with us...he was a good man and will be missed forever. His final days were less than wonderful but memorable all the same. P and our family were fortunate to spend one very special day with him in the hospital the day before he left us. One we will cherish forever and feel special to have been part of. Tomorrow we will celebrate his life and put some closure on this very sad time and begin the journey of healing.
On Monday my mother had a fire in her basement. The damage from the smoke is pretty extensive...my childhood home will forever be changed due to this event. Loss is pretty substantial as I speak to her each day..there is always something new being added to the list. She is holed up in a hotel for 6-8 weeks until all the repairs can be completed. She is fine aside from sadness of the loss of so much.
Lastly, our beloved Brooks the Beagle from Barron lost to the devil last night after he was hit by a car. A very good dog, a loyal yapper who stole my place on the couch every day. He would see his opportunity to lay in a warm spot and take it, never failed. His buddy Reggie the Retriever stood over him on the road and guarded him P was told. A man stopped and heard P calling the dogs and told him that he thought our puppy was gone. Needless to say....P had to wake me to tell me...we decided to wake the kids and bury our beloved pet last night shortly after--at 12:30.
Life is effing cruel....it's been very hard on all of us this last month. Emotions are lost in tears and pain and the feeling of just crawling out of our skin is overwhelming. We look very forward to moving forward but the moment is just lost in sorrow....no turning right or left is going to ease it right now.
Please keep my husband and children in your thoughts and say a prayer that nothing else will drop on this family right now. It's too much for the mojo.....
Showing posts with label my folks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my folks. Show all posts
Saturday, May 04, 2013
Friday, April 20, 2012
Year four is killing me
Each year this day comes one of the first things I tell myself is next year things will not hurt as much. Time heals all wounds is the saying right? Ha! Now that seems to be a joke on us! Sorry, I'm a bit angry or maybe it's frustrated. This month didn't sneak up on me like they have the last couple years. In fact it's been building since the end of March. The thoughts of the days in the hospital with my dad so vivid I can hear everything all over again.
Our son's soccer started again this year around that time at the local ice arena. On April 6, 2008 while we were there for soccer I received the call that would be the beginning of the end. Perhaps being there early this month watching his team do drills triggered something deeper than I have allowed myself to face. Needless to say, I am struggling more this year then I think I have since 2008.
That day just a few short weeks ago a moment was lost with the realization of that fateful day four years ago; life stopped, everything went silent around me, and all the days spent in hospital with my father came crashing down on me like someone had dropped a huge boulder on top of me. I have been in convulsive tears many times this month, his laughter ringing in my head, the last hug I got from him, the words, 'Where's Bubs' when I would be silently sitting next to his hospital bed trying to make myself believe that he was just sick and would go home soon.
I'm angry for so many reasons, most importantly because I can't control these emotions! I'm frustrated because fighting them is like fighting a rubber band--I think I have a grasp on them and suddenly my eyes will well up instantly. Over the last week I've barely slept, I've barely eaten, and have curled up inside of myself just like I did after he died. Why? It's been four years?
April is always an awful month now. He stayed with us over Christmas and New Years, got through his birthday and past Easter...the norm in our family is someone dies right around Christmas. Not him...perhaps it was his will that helped him to get through them because he knew the pain around the holidays. Funny how we rationalize things to fit the perfect image that helps us believe we can in fact control things. Many times I watched my father grieve the loss of a family member around Christmas--he would become very silent; his jolly spirit would be nowhere and he would just stare. Perhaps that is where I get it from...that dislocation from reality..a way to cope.
All I know right now is that I am a wreck of gigantic proportions. That tears have been coming and going since I got home from our sons soccer last night; I slept awful, woke at around 4:20 this morning to the memory of me standing at his feet at that same time four years ago, hanging on to his right foot, tears streaming down my face as nearly my entire family surrounded him and said the rosary. I remember thinking that I needed to stop showing him my raw pain...I knew what was happening but didn't want him to know I knew but I couldn't hide it..he saw my pain, he couldn't speak anymore, but then at the same time I wasn't even sure he was even able to recognize any of us. I so badly wanted to jump on the hospital bed and shake up his jolly..make him say something to egg me on...I so badly wanted to see my dad one last time.
And now four years later I want it all back...I hear his laughter ringing in my head just like I spoke with him yesterday. Only it's just an echo now. I just don't know why it's been so difficult this year. I am able to cope any other month--think about him often and chuckle about this or that. But this month seems to get harder each year than easier. Perhaps it's fear that I will forget him or such a deep loss that it will always be this way, I don't know.
I've been withdrawn, punchy, quit school for awhile, and am just walking around in the same kind of fog I was four years ago. Yeah, I quit school to find a job because this economy sucks but another reason was because the stress....the confusion and frustration with my inability to push this back and move on like I normally would. Usually on the anniversary I sob one time and then it eases..not this time. I've sobbed a couple times already in the last 24-hours and it's still right in my throat. I've cried at least once a day; lost my ability to breathe normally on some days because it hits me so hard. And when asked how I'm doing with it my immediate response is 'fine'. Exuding strength...that was one of my father's biggest assets and something I watched closely..I wanted to be just like him. He laughed a lot, he had a lot of fun with is own wit and charm and loved to make people laugh. I was always so proud when I could make HIM laugh because I knew I was getting it.
Yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm not fine..that I am really looking forward to the 24th of this month coming and going so I can put these feelings to rest for awhile....April is just not a good month. May is just around the corner and maybe then I can resume life as I know it now without him and find that peace that I have learned to cling to. Until then, forgive me for my post, forgive me for the rain if it should fall, forgive me for being a wreck. I really think I need to go fishing or something!
Miss you so much Dad!
Our son's soccer started again this year around that time at the local ice arena. On April 6, 2008 while we were there for soccer I received the call that would be the beginning of the end. Perhaps being there early this month watching his team do drills triggered something deeper than I have allowed myself to face. Needless to say, I am struggling more this year then I think I have since 2008.
That day just a few short weeks ago a moment was lost with the realization of that fateful day four years ago; life stopped, everything went silent around me, and all the days spent in hospital with my father came crashing down on me like someone had dropped a huge boulder on top of me. I have been in convulsive tears many times this month, his laughter ringing in my head, the last hug I got from him, the words, 'Where's Bubs' when I would be silently sitting next to his hospital bed trying to make myself believe that he was just sick and would go home soon.
I'm angry for so many reasons, most importantly because I can't control these emotions! I'm frustrated because fighting them is like fighting a rubber band--I think I have a grasp on them and suddenly my eyes will well up instantly. Over the last week I've barely slept, I've barely eaten, and have curled up inside of myself just like I did after he died. Why? It's been four years?
April is always an awful month now. He stayed with us over Christmas and New Years, got through his birthday and past Easter...the norm in our family is someone dies right around Christmas. Not him...perhaps it was his will that helped him to get through them because he knew the pain around the holidays. Funny how we rationalize things to fit the perfect image that helps us believe we can in fact control things. Many times I watched my father grieve the loss of a family member around Christmas--he would become very silent; his jolly spirit would be nowhere and he would just stare. Perhaps that is where I get it from...that dislocation from reality..a way to cope.
All I know right now is that I am a wreck of gigantic proportions. That tears have been coming and going since I got home from our sons soccer last night; I slept awful, woke at around 4:20 this morning to the memory of me standing at his feet at that same time four years ago, hanging on to his right foot, tears streaming down my face as nearly my entire family surrounded him and said the rosary. I remember thinking that I needed to stop showing him my raw pain...I knew what was happening but didn't want him to know I knew but I couldn't hide it..he saw my pain, he couldn't speak anymore, but then at the same time I wasn't even sure he was even able to recognize any of us. I so badly wanted to jump on the hospital bed and shake up his jolly..make him say something to egg me on...I so badly wanted to see my dad one last time.
And now four years later I want it all back...I hear his laughter ringing in my head just like I spoke with him yesterday. Only it's just an echo now. I just don't know why it's been so difficult this year. I am able to cope any other month--think about him often and chuckle about this or that. But this month seems to get harder each year than easier. Perhaps it's fear that I will forget him or such a deep loss that it will always be this way, I don't know.
I've been withdrawn, punchy, quit school for awhile, and am just walking around in the same kind of fog I was four years ago. Yeah, I quit school to find a job because this economy sucks but another reason was because the stress....the confusion and frustration with my inability to push this back and move on like I normally would. Usually on the anniversary I sob one time and then it eases..not this time. I've sobbed a couple times already in the last 24-hours and it's still right in my throat. I've cried at least once a day; lost my ability to breathe normally on some days because it hits me so hard. And when asked how I'm doing with it my immediate response is 'fine'. Exuding strength...that was one of my father's biggest assets and something I watched closely..I wanted to be just like him. He laughed a lot, he had a lot of fun with is own wit and charm and loved to make people laugh. I was always so proud when I could make HIM laugh because I knew I was getting it.
Yeah, I guess it's pretty obvious that I'm not fine..that I am really looking forward to the 24th of this month coming and going so I can put these feelings to rest for awhile....April is just not a good month. May is just around the corner and maybe then I can resume life as I know it now without him and find that peace that I have learned to cling to. Until then, forgive me for my post, forgive me for the rain if it should fall, forgive me for being a wreck. I really think I need to go fishing or something!
Miss you so much Dad!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Happy Father's Day P!
Today we are going to our daughter's house for a BBQ and P and the kids will be playing their once traditional round(s) of hackey sack. We used to head to the park every Father's Day -- I would BBQ while P spent the day with his kids messing around. Once our kids grew up, with the stress of many things in the last few years and busy schedules, our tradition kind of lost it's momentum! Not this year though....we're all making it up to him threefold--at least I hope.
Last night him and I got all dressed up and went out for a very nice relaxing dinner, walked around by the river afterwards, came home and well...both of us were so exhausted that we ended up falling asleep to a movie. But he thanked me over and over for a very nice night out--it was supposed to be a surprise but of course the guy just cannot stand surprises and worked out the puzzle....I was sad.
It feels good to be getting our family together for the day and doing something that we all used to really enjoy together. It's been a long time and a lot of stress over many things--especially over the last nine months. It's been eating us all up. But not today--today is his day and a day for the kids to enjoy him and appreciate him.
Here's a tribute to my hubby, the father of my children, the love of my life! I didn't know then what I know today--how deeply you would impact me--how deeply I would fall in love with you. Our children are so lucky to have you, a man who would do anything for them, who teaches them and loves them more than they know! You are one hell of a man P--both a father and a husband! Happy Father's Day to you--you will never know the depths of my love for you.
And to my father who I cannot call or see on his special day--only think about and write about with no real satisfaction that he's getting my message. But I will continue to write to him and think of him and remember on this day that I too was blessed with a very special father. A man who loved deeply and who worked hard for his family. A man who found the time to teach and crack jokes with me--a man who's laugh still rings in my ears today......Happy Father's Day Dad! I love you with all that I am!
Last night him and I got all dressed up and went out for a very nice relaxing dinner, walked around by the river afterwards, came home and well...both of us were so exhausted that we ended up falling asleep to a movie. But he thanked me over and over for a very nice night out--it was supposed to be a surprise but of course the guy just cannot stand surprises and worked out the puzzle....I was sad.
It feels good to be getting our family together for the day and doing something that we all used to really enjoy together. It's been a long time and a lot of stress over many things--especially over the last nine months. It's been eating us all up. But not today--today is his day and a day for the kids to enjoy him and appreciate him.
Here's a tribute to my hubby, the father of my children, the love of my life! I didn't know then what I know today--how deeply you would impact me--how deeply I would fall in love with you. Our children are so lucky to have you, a man who would do anything for them, who teaches them and loves them more than they know! You are one hell of a man P--both a father and a husband! Happy Father's Day to you--you will never know the depths of my love for you.
And to my father who I cannot call or see on his special day--only think about and write about with no real satisfaction that he's getting my message. But I will continue to write to him and think of him and remember on this day that I too was blessed with a very special father. A man who loved deeply and who worked hard for his family. A man who found the time to teach and crack jokes with me--a man who's laugh still rings in my ears today......Happy Father's Day Dad! I love you with all that I am!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Ebenezer was onto something
The eventful day is just around the corner. I probably won't have much time to post my holiday wishes after tonight with all the hustle and bustle in store.
The week has proven to be very busy and running very smoothly. I'm on schedule with everything except for moving some things around the house.
Ahhh, Christmas. I'm usually a bah humbug sort of person the weeks previous to Christmas with all the preparations. Each day closer lifts a bit of that bah and leaves me with a humbug. Progress eases the stress and lifts the weight of all that needs to be done and leaves me feeling peaceful and content.
I mope around cursing this holiday every year because the stores are busy, money if flying out of our pockets like water from a faucet, baking needs to be done, presents need to be made or wrapped, menus need to be prepared. But deep inside my heart, Christmas is one of my most favorite holidays.
The moment all that work is done and I can enjoy the hours and hours of labor, being with my husband and our kids, is the moment all that stress turns into content and an outpouring of love and appreciation.
Our kids...god are we blessed with some great kids. And our grandson...oh my. And I'm blessed to have a man who dotes on us and loves us to no end...that to me is gift enough on this much anticipated holiday.
While I don't much care for the commercialization of Christmas these days, I do love the act of contributing to it. Guilty! I spend hours wrapping gifts for our kids and trying to find ways to make them work for it...this year is no exception. They are going to be very displeased with me I think...oops.
But many times every year, I stop what I'm doing and remind myself what the real meaning of this day is...gifts are nice, giving and receiving are fun but right around this time I start to think of my mom.
She loved going to midnight mass and still does. She loves the music, the service, all of it. I think about how she would drag us kids out of bed and make us go with her...how I would sit there and shiver struggling to stay awake. I'm sure I fell asleep plenty but she was always right...the music was like nothing we'd ever hear on a regular day at church.....it was amazing.
Christmas day was generally pretty chaotic for her with 8 kids, significant others, grandkids, and great-grandkids packing into that small house. Cooking for well over 30 people, table set, working around the cramped quarters...she spent weeks before Christmas baking and freezing cookies and fruitcakes, shopping, wrapping gifts....my mom is one hell of a woman!
Through it all though she would stop to remind us kids about the birth of Jesus and tell us that Christmas is not about the gifts. That we should always remember the true meaning of this day. And she still does.
While I'm not religious, that doesn't stop me from remembering that. Usually about this same time every year too. It helps me keep things in perspective, to take a breath and a step back from the overwhelming aspect of this day that I curse....today was the day I remembered as I was washing up dishes from the many pie crusts.
Today is the day I stopped the cursing and started to enjoy all I was doing. The 'bah' is long since gone and that 'bug' has left the roost as well....The real meaning of this day, all the gifts wrapped and others ready to be sent off with P in the morning...all of it came together at that moment and left me with a gently 'hum' filling my heart.
Friends, family, memories of my father....sadness for those lost and those military folks who's significant others won't be home .... the worry about whether people will like our gifts is gone, the worry about seating and space in our home is gone. In the end it turns out, in my world anyway, bah humbug isn't all bad...only one and a half of those words should be discarded. It's that positive in a negative thing with me.
On that note, I want to wish you all have a very Merry Christmas, have many laughs and lotsa love as you spend the day with those who mean the most to you....and may all those troops and their families find some way to enjoy this day. Hugs and kisses to my dad.
Merry Christmas to all our friends and family!!!!!
The week has proven to be very busy and running very smoothly. I'm on schedule with everything except for moving some things around the house.
Ahhh, Christmas. I'm usually a bah humbug sort of person the weeks previous to Christmas with all the preparations. Each day closer lifts a bit of that bah and leaves me with a humbug. Progress eases the stress and lifts the weight of all that needs to be done and leaves me feeling peaceful and content.
I mope around cursing this holiday every year because the stores are busy, money if flying out of our pockets like water from a faucet, baking needs to be done, presents need to be made or wrapped, menus need to be prepared. But deep inside my heart, Christmas is one of my most favorite holidays.
The moment all that work is done and I can enjoy the hours and hours of labor, being with my husband and our kids, is the moment all that stress turns into content and an outpouring of love and appreciation.
Our kids...god are we blessed with some great kids. And our grandson...oh my. And I'm blessed to have a man who dotes on us and loves us to no end...that to me is gift enough on this much anticipated holiday.
While I don't much care for the commercialization of Christmas these days, I do love the act of contributing to it. Guilty! I spend hours wrapping gifts for our kids and trying to find ways to make them work for it...this year is no exception. They are going to be very displeased with me I think...oops.
But many times every year, I stop what I'm doing and remind myself what the real meaning of this day is...gifts are nice, giving and receiving are fun but right around this time I start to think of my mom.
She loved going to midnight mass and still does. She loves the music, the service, all of it. I think about how she would drag us kids out of bed and make us go with her...how I would sit there and shiver struggling to stay awake. I'm sure I fell asleep plenty but she was always right...the music was like nothing we'd ever hear on a regular day at church.....it was amazing.
Christmas day was generally pretty chaotic for her with 8 kids, significant others, grandkids, and great-grandkids packing into that small house. Cooking for well over 30 people, table set, working around the cramped quarters...she spent weeks before Christmas baking and freezing cookies and fruitcakes, shopping, wrapping gifts....my mom is one hell of a woman!
Through it all though she would stop to remind us kids about the birth of Jesus and tell us that Christmas is not about the gifts. That we should always remember the true meaning of this day. And she still does.
While I'm not religious, that doesn't stop me from remembering that. Usually about this same time every year too. It helps me keep things in perspective, to take a breath and a step back from the overwhelming aspect of this day that I curse....today was the day I remembered as I was washing up dishes from the many pie crusts.
Today is the day I stopped the cursing and started to enjoy all I was doing. The 'bah' is long since gone and that 'bug' has left the roost as well....The real meaning of this day, all the gifts wrapped and others ready to be sent off with P in the morning...all of it came together at that moment and left me with a gently 'hum' filling my heart.
Friends, family, memories of my father....sadness for those lost and those military folks who's significant others won't be home .... the worry about whether people will like our gifts is gone, the worry about seating and space in our home is gone. In the end it turns out, in my world anyway, bah humbug isn't all bad...only one and a half of those words should be discarded. It's that positive in a negative thing with me.
On that note, I want to wish you all have a very Merry Christmas, have many laughs and lotsa love as you spend the day with those who mean the most to you....and may all those troops and their families find some way to enjoy this day. Hugs and kisses to my dad.
Merry Christmas to all our friends and family!!!!!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Minds are a wonderful thing
I am in decompress mode right now. I finished my final for Algebra and didn't proofread it or even really care enough to take my time. I must have wanted to be done with mathematical terms just that bad. Even so, I got a B on the test with a couple of really dumb mistakes that I should have recognized and the rest, a few letters or numbers off in my calculations but so be it. I'm done.
Our discussion in the class this week is all about how we use math/algebra in everyday life. You know, what our parents and teachers always told us when we were young. There was one student who mentioned how much it will help her with her sewing and that got me to thinking.
When I was growing up, I spent many hours watching my mom and dad. Being the baby of the family I didn't have much else going on in my life....
My mom sewed A LOT when we were younger, you name it she sewed it. She still does on occasion but with age comes stiff joints and eyes that won't cooperate. She sure did love to do it. She worked on all my bridesmaid dresses, altered my wedding dress, made me a winter jacket that to this day she still remains very proud of, she made me a formal gown for a dance and something I still treasure, a quilt that's nothing but rags right now.
Once I moved out she made things for our kids--our oldest was fortunate enough to get a whole nursery set--blanket, sheets including fitted sheets, pillow covers, and a waterproof sheet, cloth diapers...she made them dresses that our second daughter wore thin, she made our third daughter a beautiful baptismal gown...our son, well, he got a stuffed puppy from her she made that he won't give up.
My father on the other hand was handy on so many levels. He fixed cars all the time in between truck routes, made repairs to the house. He remodeled our house... knocked out a wall, built a china cabinet, built docks, decks, sheds, and as he grew older took up the arts and crafts hobby. He made those little wood yard ornaments, some of which I have hanging around our yard. My mom painted them almost as fast as he made them but they didn't go to great lengths to sell them.
For our kids he built our daughter a little tray she could use when she was laid up in a cast, he made me a blue bird house, we have two benches in our dining room which were a one of the last things I think he ever made and something I cherish...There are pieces of both my parents all around me.
By the time my father died, he had a crippled finger and another was lopped off which I distinctly remember him asking Pat and I if we wanted a little extra meat for dinner that night. Ewwwwwww...and I believe I pretty much left the table as he laughed himself to tears.
But my point in all of this is how amazing it always was to me. Both my folks dropped out of school early. My father reached the ninth grade and my mom the fifth...it was more important back then to help around the farm or the house. Here's two people, who were self taught creating some really beautiful things and the only flaws were those their own eyes saw.
My mom coming home with patterns and a piece of fabric and studying that pattern for days or minutes...my dad with his tape measure and tools and that pen behind his ear as he worked out what it was he was going to do. The yardstick and big construction pencil......
All that they did required math of some sort. Things I couldn't figure out even after my classes unless I really tried hard and even then....I told this woman who talked about her sewing that if I told my mom she was actually doing college level algebra when she sewed her jaw would drop to the floor. I never thought of math as some complex tool and just assumed basic skills are those that we all used everyday with nary a thought.
I know, I sound like a student but hey, I am, what can I say. I just think it's really neat to think about how my parents and millions of others out there have been able to master skills above and beyond those couldn't do with pretty much no formal education. The human mind is an amazing thing if you really think about it.
Our discussion in the class this week is all about how we use math/algebra in everyday life. You know, what our parents and teachers always told us when we were young. There was one student who mentioned how much it will help her with her sewing and that got me to thinking.
When I was growing up, I spent many hours watching my mom and dad. Being the baby of the family I didn't have much else going on in my life....
My mom sewed A LOT when we were younger, you name it she sewed it. She still does on occasion but with age comes stiff joints and eyes that won't cooperate. She sure did love to do it. She worked on all my bridesmaid dresses, altered my wedding dress, made me a winter jacket that to this day she still remains very proud of, she made me a formal gown for a dance and something I still treasure, a quilt that's nothing but rags right now.
Once I moved out she made things for our kids--our oldest was fortunate enough to get a whole nursery set--blanket, sheets including fitted sheets, pillow covers, and a waterproof sheet, cloth diapers...she made them dresses that our second daughter wore thin, she made our third daughter a beautiful baptismal gown...our son, well, he got a stuffed puppy from her she made that he won't give up.
My father on the other hand was handy on so many levels. He fixed cars all the time in between truck routes, made repairs to the house. He remodeled our house... knocked out a wall, built a china cabinet, built docks, decks, sheds, and as he grew older took up the arts and crafts hobby. He made those little wood yard ornaments, some of which I have hanging around our yard. My mom painted them almost as fast as he made them but they didn't go to great lengths to sell them.
For our kids he built our daughter a little tray she could use when she was laid up in a cast, he made me a blue bird house, we have two benches in our dining room which were a one of the last things I think he ever made and something I cherish...There are pieces of both my parents all around me.
By the time my father died, he had a crippled finger and another was lopped off which I distinctly remember him asking Pat and I if we wanted a little extra meat for dinner that night. Ewwwwwww...and I believe I pretty much left the table as he laughed himself to tears.
But my point in all of this is how amazing it always was to me. Both my folks dropped out of school early. My father reached the ninth grade and my mom the fifth...it was more important back then to help around the farm or the house. Here's two people, who were self taught creating some really beautiful things and the only flaws were those their own eyes saw.
My mom coming home with patterns and a piece of fabric and studying that pattern for days or minutes...my dad with his tape measure and tools and that pen behind his ear as he worked out what it was he was going to do. The yardstick and big construction pencil......
All that they did required math of some sort. Things I couldn't figure out even after my classes unless I really tried hard and even then....I told this woman who talked about her sewing that if I told my mom she was actually doing college level algebra when she sewed her jaw would drop to the floor. I never thought of math as some complex tool and just assumed basic skills are those that we all used everyday with nary a thought.
I know, I sound like a student but hey, I am, what can I say. I just think it's really neat to think about how my parents and millions of others out there have been able to master skills above and beyond those couldn't do with pretty much no formal education. The human mind is an amazing thing if you really think about it.
Monday, April 26, 2010
It's complicated
What a whirlwind week last week was. I had said in my last post that year two wasn't nearly as rough....man, I don't think I could have been further from the truth. I cannot count how many times I've cried in the last 5 days...Perhaps I have never dealt with the death, perhaps I don't allow myself to talk about it with people because I don't want to come off needy or like I'm dwelling...all I know is Pat had his hands full with me last week and over the weekend and he endured it all and came out on the other side with a love note stashed in my crossword book last night. God has blessed me with a great, great husband!
Pat said something to me on the 20th that really hit me. I was laying there crying in his arms about how I was in shock at how difficult things have been. In fact, while my mind was preparing and my heart was slowly sinking this month, there was no preparedness for last week. It snuck up on me like a little mouse and turned into a damn lion! Oh, but what Pat said to me that made me stop crying briefly--the first year we spent feeling numb, learning to accept it; now it's been two years and that numbness is gone and the reality is is that life moved on without my father...we have lived for two years without his presence and that in and of itself just hit home...are the feelings I'm having of guilt for living without him? Are they utter sadness that his laughter doesn't seep through the phone lines? Whatever it is, it felt like he died all over again.
If this is mourning I don't want it anymore! I told Pat I wanted to erase April from the calendar after this year because it's been so damn difficult. Add to that my confusion as to why its been so difficult and LeAnn has been one big fat mess!!!
Now, as the 24th passed, the weight in my chest has begun to slowly lift. I'm angry and frustrated with myself for having such a bad month, I'm angry that I let it consume me, and I'm most angry that my husband has to work so hard to help me through this! I'm not normally so weak but since two years ago, I'm just not my normal self. Although I know Pat lives to take care of me, as any man would say, those damn emotions!!!!! They aren't so excited to have to deal with them all the time...
This post may be depressing but for the moment, it's what I got...one good vent session! Thanks to my husband, my kids, and M for being there for me! I can't say I'm all that receptive or even all that great at being the one needing the shoulder but I can say that these are the people who are able to see that I'm not as strong as I want everyone to believe. It's much much easier to help others and to hide my true self...but I'd have to say...it is these people I mention who have taken the time to dig that person out!
Pat said something to me on the 20th that really hit me. I was laying there crying in his arms about how I was in shock at how difficult things have been. In fact, while my mind was preparing and my heart was slowly sinking this month, there was no preparedness for last week. It snuck up on me like a little mouse and turned into a damn lion! Oh, but what Pat said to me that made me stop crying briefly--the first year we spent feeling numb, learning to accept it; now it's been two years and that numbness is gone and the reality is is that life moved on without my father...we have lived for two years without his presence and that in and of itself just hit home...are the feelings I'm having of guilt for living without him? Are they utter sadness that his laughter doesn't seep through the phone lines? Whatever it is, it felt like he died all over again.
If this is mourning I don't want it anymore! I told Pat I wanted to erase April from the calendar after this year because it's been so damn difficult. Add to that my confusion as to why its been so difficult and LeAnn has been one big fat mess!!!
Now, as the 24th passed, the weight in my chest has begun to slowly lift. I'm angry and frustrated with myself for having such a bad month, I'm angry that I let it consume me, and I'm most angry that my husband has to work so hard to help me through this! I'm not normally so weak but since two years ago, I'm just not my normal self. Although I know Pat lives to take care of me, as any man would say, those damn emotions!!!!! They aren't so excited to have to deal with them all the time...
This post may be depressing but for the moment, it's what I got...one good vent session! Thanks to my husband, my kids, and M for being there for me! I can't say I'm all that receptive or even all that great at being the one needing the shoulder but I can say that these are the people who are able to see that I'm not as strong as I want everyone to believe. It's much much easier to help others and to hide my true self...but I'd have to say...it is these people I mention who have taken the time to dig that person out!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
2 Years today...
It's two years today since my father died. Time sure does fly these days. While it's much easier today than it was last year, I've had many moments in the last few weeks of flashing images, of anger, of sadness, of utter frustration. It doesn't help that this hasn't exactly been the least taxing month with other things surfacing adding to all this.
But what are we gonna do...life happens, tears fall, laughter existed and it will continue to do so. I miss my father, more some days than others. Our daughters are struggling again, it's rough on them. They loved their grandpa so much. And there isn't anything I can do for that pain except be there...
I've just grown to not like this month very much. My mood is up and down, my emotions are a mess and I don't even get that half the time. The subconscious is an evil thing that creates all this even though I try very hard to pretend that it's just another month. Doesn't work so well...just ask Pat. Poor guy, he doesn't know what to expect from my mood on any given day in April. While I would love to move on and make my father a pleasant memory, I guess the pain is a little deeper than I had thought...duh LeAnn, I know. My chest is heavy with the gaping hole in my heart...one would think it would be lighter..go figure. :)
Anyway....Anniversary day is going to turn into days as we grow older, we are all going to lose those we love. It makes me nauseous just thinking about what lies ahead...
Going to spend the day with GD#2 laying down some landscaping trim around my rose gardens....and hey, my roses survived the winter! Now that's something. Hope to have a good day after what I know will be a good hard cry before her arrival....have a good day everyone..
Love you Dad! Miss you so very much but your sparkle and laughter still linger in my daily life.
But what are we gonna do...life happens, tears fall, laughter existed and it will continue to do so. I miss my father, more some days than others. Our daughters are struggling again, it's rough on them. They loved their grandpa so much. And there isn't anything I can do for that pain except be there...
I've just grown to not like this month very much. My mood is up and down, my emotions are a mess and I don't even get that half the time. The subconscious is an evil thing that creates all this even though I try very hard to pretend that it's just another month. Doesn't work so well...just ask Pat. Poor guy, he doesn't know what to expect from my mood on any given day in April. While I would love to move on and make my father a pleasant memory, I guess the pain is a little deeper than I had thought...duh LeAnn, I know. My chest is heavy with the gaping hole in my heart...one would think it would be lighter..go figure. :)
Anyway....Anniversary day is going to turn into days as we grow older, we are all going to lose those we love. It makes me nauseous just thinking about what lies ahead...
Going to spend the day with GD#2 laying down some landscaping trim around my rose gardens....and hey, my roses survived the winter! Now that's something. Hope to have a good day after what I know will be a good hard cry before her arrival....have a good day everyone..
Love you Dad! Miss you so very much but your sparkle and laughter still linger in my daily life.
Friday, November 13, 2009
So fortunate to have seen and been part of...
Been thinking about my dad off and on the last few weeks. Maybe it's the holidays approaching...I think about him at least once a day so when I mention the previous thinking, I mean really really thinking.
I miss him, I miss his jolly laugh, I miss his phone messages telling me to just throw the phone away if I wasn't gonna answer it...all his wit and charm. Some days I still live in denial and pretend that the last couple years never happened. It just makes it simpler sometimes. Other days I'm in a panic because I swore to myself that I would never forget that laugh that always warmed my heart to the core and I must shut out all the noise around me to bring that laughter to my ears...and to my relief, it's there loud and clear.
I don't often talk about my feelings about this with anyone only because I never know when the tears will come. My tears are pretty unpredictable since his death and my sensitivity level has definitely increased a bit. I have much more passion about life, my husband and my kids...those who have been here for all of this. Even Pat doesn't know how often I think about my father but I'm sure he isn't blind or clueless. He has known me for 24 1/2 years....he knows but I like to pretend he doesn't.
We visited my mom last weekend. It was a very nice time and long overdue!!! But during the visit, I asked my mom about my grandmother's ring, the one my father wanted me to have and some other things I had at their place...after awhile my mom asked if I wanted to go get my stuff and the ring. In my wildest dreams, the emotions that ran through me, my heart at that moment---I still cannot explain it.
The ring is nothing spectacular and I was told this many times by both my mom and dad...I never met my father's parents, I never knew them but I now have a piece of them on my finger. Some small token of how petite my grandmother may have been. There are so many feelings I have when I look at this ring, soooo many. So many questions that will never have complete answers...
Even though I never spoke to my father every week, he was a huge part of my life, a huge part of me, and a very huge influence on me. I spent a lot of time with him while I was growing up...vacations, weekends at the cabin, in his garage 'helping' him fix cars. I followed him around like he was the Pied Piper and I suppose like any little girl, daddy was the light of my life. And we never really spoke, he would sing silly songs to me, ask me to get this or that or he would call me a pickle-puss or phonie-honie and my obvious favorite was screwy louie. Of course I had another nickname that I don't believe I've ever mentioned...that would be Bubbles.
I was fortunate...I am the youngest of eight kids...because my folks struggled to get the other seven all their needs and made sure their lives were laid out as best as my folks could do, I got the best part of my parents...the tail end of their parenting days. I've said before that my siblings have called me spoiled...I didn't choose my place in the family, I didn't ask for much from my folks nor did I get much...just their time.
I was just the fortunate one who got to enjoy them when life wasn't quite as stressful and busy for them. I wouldn't say I was spoiled, I would say I was pretty fortunate and lucky to have all the time I did get with my folks. And I cherish that with every fiber of my being.
Times weren't exactly ideal when I was growing up...all that mattered to me was that I was part of my parents lives. I was part of many things that I don't look upon negatively but as a great learning experience. Of course in those younger days of driving cross country as a 13 year old, I hated every minute of being in the same car but that's besides the point. As I grew older, I began to realize the gifts my parents gave to me during those long car rides or those boring weekends at the cabin...a rare glimpse of who they were...their laughter, their bickering, their conversations, them agreeing on something and making decisions together.
Those memories of my parents, of my mom's laughing, my father's snide comments or riddles...these are those things I've been thinking of so very much the last couple weeks. Occasionally my eyes begin to sting a bit or I find myself smiling when I come out of a deep moment of daydreaming.
I don't know the why's of all of this, just that the hole in my heart is not healing but filling with different kinds of realizations and understandings but mostly with admiration and love for two people -- my mom and dad -- who both granted me access to a part of their life that my siblings will never know. Maybe they do, I don't know but within me, I was the only child who went on those three week long drives and had to spend nights in hotels with my mom and dad. I wish for the sake of my siblings that they could have seen this, could have been part of this. I hold this memory very selfishly because it is mine to hold. I cannot change how this happened nor would I ever want to.
I miss him, I miss his jolly laugh, I miss his phone messages telling me to just throw the phone away if I wasn't gonna answer it...all his wit and charm. Some days I still live in denial and pretend that the last couple years never happened. It just makes it simpler sometimes. Other days I'm in a panic because I swore to myself that I would never forget that laugh that always warmed my heart to the core and I must shut out all the noise around me to bring that laughter to my ears...and to my relief, it's there loud and clear.
I don't often talk about my feelings about this with anyone only because I never know when the tears will come. My tears are pretty unpredictable since his death and my sensitivity level has definitely increased a bit. I have much more passion about life, my husband and my kids...those who have been here for all of this. Even Pat doesn't know how often I think about my father but I'm sure he isn't blind or clueless. He has known me for 24 1/2 years....he knows but I like to pretend he doesn't.
We visited my mom last weekend. It was a very nice time and long overdue!!! But during the visit, I asked my mom about my grandmother's ring, the one my father wanted me to have and some other things I had at their place...after awhile my mom asked if I wanted to go get my stuff and the ring. In my wildest dreams, the emotions that ran through me, my heart at that moment---I still cannot explain it.
The ring is nothing spectacular and I was told this many times by both my mom and dad...I never met my father's parents, I never knew them but I now have a piece of them on my finger. Some small token of how petite my grandmother may have been. There are so many feelings I have when I look at this ring, soooo many. So many questions that will never have complete answers...
Even though I never spoke to my father every week, he was a huge part of my life, a huge part of me, and a very huge influence on me. I spent a lot of time with him while I was growing up...vacations, weekends at the cabin, in his garage 'helping' him fix cars. I followed him around like he was the Pied Piper and I suppose like any little girl, daddy was the light of my life. And we never really spoke, he would sing silly songs to me, ask me to get this or that or he would call me a pickle-puss or phonie-honie and my obvious favorite was screwy louie. Of course I had another nickname that I don't believe I've ever mentioned...that would be Bubbles.
I was fortunate...I am the youngest of eight kids...because my folks struggled to get the other seven all their needs and made sure their lives were laid out as best as my folks could do, I got the best part of my parents...the tail end of their parenting days. I've said before that my siblings have called me spoiled...I didn't choose my place in the family, I didn't ask for much from my folks nor did I get much...just their time.
I was just the fortunate one who got to enjoy them when life wasn't quite as stressful and busy for them. I wouldn't say I was spoiled, I would say I was pretty fortunate and lucky to have all the time I did get with my folks. And I cherish that with every fiber of my being.
Times weren't exactly ideal when I was growing up...all that mattered to me was that I was part of my parents lives. I was part of many things that I don't look upon negatively but as a great learning experience. Of course in those younger days of driving cross country as a 13 year old, I hated every minute of being in the same car but that's besides the point. As I grew older, I began to realize the gifts my parents gave to me during those long car rides or those boring weekends at the cabin...a rare glimpse of who they were...their laughter, their bickering, their conversations, them agreeing on something and making decisions together.
Those memories of my parents, of my mom's laughing, my father's snide comments or riddles...these are those things I've been thinking of so very much the last couple weeks. Occasionally my eyes begin to sting a bit or I find myself smiling when I come out of a deep moment of daydreaming.
I don't know the why's of all of this, just that the hole in my heart is not healing but filling with different kinds of realizations and understandings but mostly with admiration and love for two people -- my mom and dad -- who both granted me access to a part of their life that my siblings will never know. Maybe they do, I don't know but within me, I was the only child who went on those three week long drives and had to spend nights in hotels with my mom and dad. I wish for the sake of my siblings that they could have seen this, could have been part of this. I hold this memory very selfishly because it is mine to hold. I cannot change how this happened nor would I ever want to.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I am NORMAL!
Lets just say that yesterday was horrid! It was a good thing I decided to take the day off otherwise things could have gotten ugly. The one year anniversary has passed. Although I do worry how Friday will be.
The year of firsts has been awful! At about 8:45 yesterday morning, a few moments before my father breathed his final breath one year ago, I started having problems breathing, I started panicking, I started crying uncontrollably while looking at the blue bird house my father made and gave to me many years ago. It wasn't something that happened from looking at this birdhouse...it was like a wave had washed over me and knocked me into reality for the first time in a year. Numbness and withdrawal have been the only existence for me except it's been at an all time high this past couple months. It was the strangest and most painful thing. All the pain of a year ago had just come flooding back into my heart. Differently though...perhaps it's the finality setting in.
So, this emotional breakdown lasted for about 45 minutes with a small break in there long enough to bring my little man to school for the day....at one point, I stopped because something in me clicked....the realization that it is in fact real, that it is in fact final and there is no nightmare or joke or even my imagination thinking the worst as it's so prone to doing. It's all been real....all the pain, all the tears, all the memories from those two weeks in the hospital.
I bet you're all saying, "DUH!" LeAnn.....well, if you're not, I am.
Death of one so dear to us. As I said in my last post, IT HURTS! It sends you into an abyss of utter helplessness and dark and deep sadness. One in which no matter how much you try to get out of, there is just no light. Every once in awhile there's a crack of light where laughter emerges but overall, the emotional fingers ache from trying to claw out of this funk. The mentality is just screaming enough is enough, just let me get out of hell and let me be normal. But I know that will never be again, sadly.
This is a morbid post, but hey, I've been pretty morbid. I've read up on the old mourning process because I have feared that I've fallen into a deep depression...I read after my previous post because of how I've been feeling this year. What I learned from the six or so articles I read is that I have been experiencing is all normal. It's all nearly verbatim to what I've been writing off and on. I've been handling it well, been dealing with it well...although, I can't say that I feel as though I've been dealing with things all that well. Talk about feeling a little bit of relief to learn that I am not loony and clinically depressed.
So, yes, there has been a cork put on my happiness, there has been moments where I have written posts and only saved them because they were so dark and personal, there have been moments where I feel that if I ran away things would get a little better...but in the end, I just know that no one can make this hurt go away but me. The support has been amazing, the love and hugs have been overwhelming but in the end, the pain just won't go away.
I read a really outrageous headline today...it was called "Fatties Cause Global Warming" or something close to that. I actually belly laughed at that one because the lengths that people will go to for this whole global warming issue are just insane and very callous in my opinion. What asinine jerks to title an article that way!
But the point of telling you that is that I do hope I've leapt over a very tall hurdle with the year having been and gone. I do know that the pain will always be with me but I also know that I've been denying things and pretending that it's just a bad nightmare and pretending that I'm just great and accepting of the fact that people die. In the end, I've only been denying myself the opportunity to hurt, and to absorb...which I have learned is normal.
So, please celebrate with me as I jump for joy over the fact that I'm NORMAL! That is a huge discovery for me.
Thanks again to all of you for all your support and patience with me through this very painful process. There is an attempt at SOME humor in this post but whether it came through or not, well, lets just say I'm a little out of practice with that whole concept!
The year of firsts has been awful! At about 8:45 yesterday morning, a few moments before my father breathed his final breath one year ago, I started having problems breathing, I started panicking, I started crying uncontrollably while looking at the blue bird house my father made and gave to me many years ago. It wasn't something that happened from looking at this birdhouse...it was like a wave had washed over me and knocked me into reality for the first time in a year. Numbness and withdrawal have been the only existence for me except it's been at an all time high this past couple months. It was the strangest and most painful thing. All the pain of a year ago had just come flooding back into my heart. Differently though...perhaps it's the finality setting in.
So, this emotional breakdown lasted for about 45 minutes with a small break in there long enough to bring my little man to school for the day....at one point, I stopped because something in me clicked....the realization that it is in fact real, that it is in fact final and there is no nightmare or joke or even my imagination thinking the worst as it's so prone to doing. It's all been real....all the pain, all the tears, all the memories from those two weeks in the hospital.
I bet you're all saying, "DUH!" LeAnn.....well, if you're not, I am.
Death of one so dear to us. As I said in my last post, IT HURTS! It sends you into an abyss of utter helplessness and dark and deep sadness. One in which no matter how much you try to get out of, there is just no light. Every once in awhile there's a crack of light where laughter emerges but overall, the emotional fingers ache from trying to claw out of this funk. The mentality is just screaming enough is enough, just let me get out of hell and let me be normal. But I know that will never be again, sadly.
This is a morbid post, but hey, I've been pretty morbid. I've read up on the old mourning process because I have feared that I've fallen into a deep depression...I read after my previous post because of how I've been feeling this year. What I learned from the six or so articles I read is that I have been experiencing is all normal. It's all nearly verbatim to what I've been writing off and on. I've been handling it well, been dealing with it well...although, I can't say that I feel as though I've been dealing with things all that well. Talk about feeling a little bit of relief to learn that I am not loony and clinically depressed.
So, yes, there has been a cork put on my happiness, there has been moments where I have written posts and only saved them because they were so dark and personal, there have been moments where I feel that if I ran away things would get a little better...but in the end, I just know that no one can make this hurt go away but me. The support has been amazing, the love and hugs have been overwhelming but in the end, the pain just won't go away.
I read a really outrageous headline today...it was called "Fatties Cause Global Warming" or something close to that. I actually belly laughed at that one because the lengths that people will go to for this whole global warming issue are just insane and very callous in my opinion. What asinine jerks to title an article that way!
But the point of telling you that is that I do hope I've leapt over a very tall hurdle with the year having been and gone. I do know that the pain will always be with me but I also know that I've been denying things and pretending that it's just a bad nightmare and pretending that I'm just great and accepting of the fact that people die. In the end, I've only been denying myself the opportunity to hurt, and to absorb...which I have learned is normal.
So, please celebrate with me as I jump for joy over the fact that I'm NORMAL! That is a huge discovery for me.
Thanks again to all of you for all your support and patience with me through this very painful process. There is an attempt at SOME humor in this post but whether it came through or not, well, lets just say I'm a little out of practice with that whole concept!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
A new beginning
At a loss for words these days. Many life altering, sad, exciting, jaw dropping things have happened over this last year. My desire to write at this blog has been MIA. Sadly, I can't seem to find that anymore.
I often wonder if I'm on emotional overload and my system is recharging. Or if I will ever feel 'happy' again. I am not clinically depressed, let me just straighten that out right this minute. No way, no how, never. I know me well enough to know that I am just in a spot in life where many things have come to question.
LIFE....the biggest question.
I've experienced a very deep loss but have also experienced a very joyous birth this last year. Talk about messing with the mojo! Yes, the one year anniversary is quickly approaching already and this past year has been quite foggy with me. I turned 40 in December and I wasn't even phased by it....just another damn day and an additional year added is all.
In this last year there has been a lot of reflection, a lot of observation of my children, a lot of silence on my part. I look at my kids differently now, I look at my mom differently, I look at my marriage so much deeper and differently and mostly, I reflect on all those times that we can never get back...like the 5 minutes ago when I started this blubbering.
What really is the meaning in our life, what impact has my existence had? What purpose have I served in this world? It's really quite amazing to see things from this perspective...that silent, invisible hand of reality comes from no where and smacks ya and 'Wham!', everything is so different.
I can't say I've become a better person or a better wife or a better friend or mom or daughter. In fact, because of all my reflecting and silence, I've kind of been lost in my own little world working hard to figure so much out. It's been an interesting journey, one filled with some challenging moments.
There have been things lurking inside of me for a year that I am finally starting to work through and talk with Pat about. Things that I didn't even know existed. This whole mourning process is quite the kicker. Never in a million years would I have imagined the impact it would make on my self, my heart, my soul, my mind. All the morbid thoughts, the fleeting dreams, the anxiety, the unexpected and unstoppable tears suddenly wetting my cheeks without even a sting...free flowing.
This post isn't really about the loss but about the recovery. The human spirit is so damn resilient. The loss is great and painful as hell. The loneliness and emptiness is unbearable at times, but it's at those times that I think the most healing occurs. Oddly enough, it's like breaking a small part of a dam to let the water flow freely. But the dumb river is as wide and expansive as the oceans on some days.
With this post, I am removing some large branches from that dam. It's harsh when I realize just how easy it's been to look only towards the sadness and the negative; how simple it's been to enjoy the happy moments only briefly just to allow myself to turn back to the black cloud that's been hovering over my head this year. It's those tears of sadness that are actually a doorway to finding some happiness, comfort, and some peace....
I often wonder if I'm on emotional overload and my system is recharging. Or if I will ever feel 'happy' again. I am not clinically depressed, let me just straighten that out right this minute. No way, no how, never. I know me well enough to know that I am just in a spot in life where many things have come to question.
LIFE....the biggest question.
I've experienced a very deep loss but have also experienced a very joyous birth this last year. Talk about messing with the mojo! Yes, the one year anniversary is quickly approaching already and this past year has been quite foggy with me. I turned 40 in December and I wasn't even phased by it....just another damn day and an additional year added is all.
In this last year there has been a lot of reflection, a lot of observation of my children, a lot of silence on my part. I look at my kids differently now, I look at my mom differently, I look at my marriage so much deeper and differently and mostly, I reflect on all those times that we can never get back...like the 5 minutes ago when I started this blubbering.
What really is the meaning in our life, what impact has my existence had? What purpose have I served in this world? It's really quite amazing to see things from this perspective...that silent, invisible hand of reality comes from no where and smacks ya and 'Wham!', everything is so different.
I can't say I've become a better person or a better wife or a better friend or mom or daughter. In fact, because of all my reflecting and silence, I've kind of been lost in my own little world working hard to figure so much out. It's been an interesting journey, one filled with some challenging moments.
There have been things lurking inside of me for a year that I am finally starting to work through and talk with Pat about. Things that I didn't even know existed. This whole mourning process is quite the kicker. Never in a million years would I have imagined the impact it would make on my self, my heart, my soul, my mind. All the morbid thoughts, the fleeting dreams, the anxiety, the unexpected and unstoppable tears suddenly wetting my cheeks without even a sting...free flowing.
This post isn't really about the loss but about the recovery. The human spirit is so damn resilient. The loss is great and painful as hell. The loneliness and emptiness is unbearable at times, but it's at those times that I think the most healing occurs. Oddly enough, it's like breaking a small part of a dam to let the water flow freely. But the dumb river is as wide and expansive as the oceans on some days.
With this post, I am removing some large branches from that dam. It's harsh when I realize just how easy it's been to look only towards the sadness and the negative; how simple it's been to enjoy the happy moments only briefly just to allow myself to turn back to the black cloud that's been hovering over my head this year. It's those tears of sadness that are actually a doorway to finding some happiness, comfort, and some peace....
Monday, March 30, 2009
Things........
So life has been moving at super speed for us lately. Can't keep up with it most days. Work, kids, errands, workshops, parties....Calgon, take me away.
A few weeks ago, we celebrated our sons 10th birthday. Had a bowling party with 7 other boys. Wow was that an adventure. We haven't had a b-day party for our kids in quite a few years. I used to go hog wild for their parties, I now know why I stopped. Exhausting. Truth be told? We had a lot of fun and our son was overjoyed.
This past Saturday we had a baby shower. About 50 people showed up all told. I have to say...I am overjoyed that it's over. The stress leading up to that day was more than I like to feel. Couldn't sleep, cranky.....ugh. But the party was a huge success and all those who helped out I have a VERY BIG THANK YOU FOR! We had it at my moms.
It was strange but yet, I shouldn't be surprised with my siblings. The day I called my mom to ask her if she wanted to host the shower at her place was the day I seemed to not have to lift much of a finger. Honestly, I was a bit irritated at times because Pat and I had planned on doing most of the work that needed to be done but each time I would call my mom, this was already done, that was completed, this was moved, that was cleaned up, this was taken care of.....I guess I should know better eh? LOL We are very appreciative for all the hard work that was put into this to make it a success for our daughter, her fiance, and our grandson.....oh, hey, I neglected to mention that our daughter is now engaged! Woohoo!!!!!! No date yet but plans are in the making! They are all doing great and working hard to make a family and a life....couldn't be more proud of them!
So much has been going on in our lives lately that I cannot even keep up anymore. I'm exhausted. Pat's exhausted. We're just dying to go fishing again...some peace and quiet will be so nice. Soccer season is gearing up rapidly. Our two younger ones are both on traveling teams as usual and we are really excited for that to start even though it drains so much of our time. But it's great to sit on the sidelines and watch the kids progress.
In the midst of all the busy though looms a certain darkness. The one year anniversary is quickly approaching...thoughts of my father have been fogging my happy thoughts, the 6th of April marks the beginning of his struggles to the end. Tears have been coming and going, moods have been messed up, sleep has been little....sometimes I feel that it will be harder to approach this day than it was to see the progression only a year ago.
Hopefully though, once this hurdle is met, things will even out and it won't be so difficult in the future. The blessings in our life right now..our strong marriage, our new grandson, our kids growing, and thriving, health, our jobs...those things I am forever grateful for. For distracting my thoughts, for just being. The loss is much greater than I anticipated, the adjustment much harder than I thought...one day at a time....
A few weeks ago, we celebrated our sons 10th birthday. Had a bowling party with 7 other boys. Wow was that an adventure. We haven't had a b-day party for our kids in quite a few years. I used to go hog wild for their parties, I now know why I stopped. Exhausting. Truth be told? We had a lot of fun and our son was overjoyed.
This past Saturday we had a baby shower. About 50 people showed up all told. I have to say...I am overjoyed that it's over. The stress leading up to that day was more than I like to feel. Couldn't sleep, cranky.....ugh. But the party was a huge success and all those who helped out I have a VERY BIG THANK YOU FOR! We had it at my moms.
It was strange but yet, I shouldn't be surprised with my siblings. The day I called my mom to ask her if she wanted to host the shower at her place was the day I seemed to not have to lift much of a finger. Honestly, I was a bit irritated at times because Pat and I had planned on doing most of the work that needed to be done but each time I would call my mom, this was already done, that was completed, this was moved, that was cleaned up, this was taken care of.....I guess I should know better eh? LOL We are very appreciative for all the hard work that was put into this to make it a success for our daughter, her fiance, and our grandson.....oh, hey, I neglected to mention that our daughter is now engaged! Woohoo!!!!!! No date yet but plans are in the making! They are all doing great and working hard to make a family and a life....couldn't be more proud of them!
So much has been going on in our lives lately that I cannot even keep up anymore. I'm exhausted. Pat's exhausted. We're just dying to go fishing again...some peace and quiet will be so nice. Soccer season is gearing up rapidly. Our two younger ones are both on traveling teams as usual and we are really excited for that to start even though it drains so much of our time. But it's great to sit on the sidelines and watch the kids progress.
In the midst of all the busy though looms a certain darkness. The one year anniversary is quickly approaching...thoughts of my father have been fogging my happy thoughts, the 6th of April marks the beginning of his struggles to the end. Tears have been coming and going, moods have been messed up, sleep has been little....sometimes I feel that it will be harder to approach this day than it was to see the progression only a year ago.
Hopefully though, once this hurdle is met, things will even out and it won't be so difficult in the future. The blessings in our life right now..our strong marriage, our new grandson, our kids growing, and thriving, health, our jobs...those things I am forever grateful for. For distracting my thoughts, for just being. The loss is much greater than I anticipated, the adjustment much harder than I thought...one day at a time....
Saturday, October 11, 2008
His middle name was......
Every now and then pangs of pain shoot through me. Memories of my father. For the most part, I've been pretty ok with things, a little teary eyed here or a very depressed/shocked-still-in-denial-moment-there. Not a day has gone by since April 20th that I haven't thought of my dad at least one time throughout the day. There's always something that reminds me of him. Today it just happened to be my son. And it's not the first time our boy has triggered this.
Our little guy is still having a hard time with it. He's about like me, tears here and there, wanting something to call his own that was his grandpa's just so he can have something he touched or used. I cannot tell you how I wish I could just help my son understand and feel even the slightest bit better about things although I'm still trying to understand and feel again. I've certainly grown more humble over the last 5 1/2 months.
So, I am now an employee at the school...after years of trying. Our son was very adamant about me not touching him and letting everyone know that "I am his mom"...sort of thing. It's comical really. I have respected those wishes because I certainly don't want other kids taking liberties and picking on him at will. School is hard enough. And so far it's worked out ok...he even lets me tousle his hair now and all the kids in his class are always happy to see B's Mom! So it's all good.
But today he did something completely out of character for him right before he was going to go in from recess. I was getting the classes lined up and he came up. His face looked 'devastated', pained, and like he was about ready to cry. The kid NEVER comes near me at recess and when I say never, I mean him and I don't even say hi to each other before he goes in. It's that line of respect that I'm waiting for him to break. Anyway, he blurted out that there were some kids calling him Elmo....I was quite confused by this because it was such a minor thing. He said he didn't want them to call him that and wanted me to ask them to stop.
I told him I would of course because he looked so distraught by it. Needless to say, I made one of the girls cry just by asking her why she was calling him that and felt terrible because I was completely confused and really didn't see what was so horrible about it...my son who never tattles unless he's feeling on the verge of tears or complete frustration. Then I thought that maybe it was because he gets called various names by his older sisters....it bothered me a great deal for the rest of the day. It just wasn't like him to be so....irritated.
Well, it took every fiber of my being not to walk to his classroom for the next couple hours and find out what was going on with him. But I refused to be the doting mom and decided that I would have to just hang tough until 2:00...I just had a horrible feeling that there was more to this than I realized. I actually started walking to his class two times between my own classes but turned around....it just nagged at me...
So finally 2:00 came around, I went to his classroom and within 5 minutes, he told me what was going on and did I ever feel stupid. I asked him why he was so upset by this and if the little girls talked to him at all....the first words out of his mouth in a quiet voice accompanied by moist eyes were, "Elmo was Grandpa's middle name and I thought they were making fun of it and I didn't like it." Man did I feel like an idiot but I do have one thing that I can counter that with....all my life, I was told that my father's middle name was Edmond....it wasn't until about a month or so before he died that I was given the real story behind his name...and yes, his middle name was Elmo. Somehow it had gotten written wrong on his baptismal certificate. It was always Edmond to me....when he said they were calling him Elmo, I immediately thought of Elmo the muppet and thought it was cute that they came up with such a sweet name...although what I think is sweet is definitely not something my son would concur with.
It all suddenly made great sense to me and I immediately called the two girls over and explained things to them and it was like a shadow crossed both their faces and then a light went on....they understood and I apologized if I had upset them, they both smiled a little smile and gave me a nod...shy little things they are....but Honestly, I didn't yell at them...I just asked a question and the little girls lip was quivering almost immediately....then she started to well up with tears and man...I felt like such a meany. But it's all good now.
However, days like today....beautiful fall colors surrounding me, I can't help not thinking about my father. He would have loved it here today. I took a drive on my lunch to the scenic overlook, the long way back to our house on a road that follows the river...the smell, the colors....I felt my father today, he was near me....Things are easier but at the same time, so very hard when it hits.
Thanks for listening....
Our little guy is still having a hard time with it. He's about like me, tears here and there, wanting something to call his own that was his grandpa's just so he can have something he touched or used. I cannot tell you how I wish I could just help my son understand and feel even the slightest bit better about things although I'm still trying to understand and feel again. I've certainly grown more humble over the last 5 1/2 months.
So, I am now an employee at the school...after years of trying. Our son was very adamant about me not touching him and letting everyone know that "I am his mom"...sort of thing. It's comical really. I have respected those wishes because I certainly don't want other kids taking liberties and picking on him at will. School is hard enough. And so far it's worked out ok...he even lets me tousle his hair now and all the kids in his class are always happy to see B's Mom! So it's all good.
But today he did something completely out of character for him right before he was going to go in from recess. I was getting the classes lined up and he came up. His face looked 'devastated', pained, and like he was about ready to cry. The kid NEVER comes near me at recess and when I say never, I mean him and I don't even say hi to each other before he goes in. It's that line of respect that I'm waiting for him to break. Anyway, he blurted out that there were some kids calling him Elmo....I was quite confused by this because it was such a minor thing. He said he didn't want them to call him that and wanted me to ask them to stop.
I told him I would of course because he looked so distraught by it. Needless to say, I made one of the girls cry just by asking her why she was calling him that and felt terrible because I was completely confused and really didn't see what was so horrible about it...my son who never tattles unless he's feeling on the verge of tears or complete frustration. Then I thought that maybe it was because he gets called various names by his older sisters....it bothered me a great deal for the rest of the day. It just wasn't like him to be so....irritated.
Well, it took every fiber of my being not to walk to his classroom for the next couple hours and find out what was going on with him. But I refused to be the doting mom and decided that I would have to just hang tough until 2:00...I just had a horrible feeling that there was more to this than I realized. I actually started walking to his class two times between my own classes but turned around....it just nagged at me...
So finally 2:00 came around, I went to his classroom and within 5 minutes, he told me what was going on and did I ever feel stupid. I asked him why he was so upset by this and if the little girls talked to him at all....the first words out of his mouth in a quiet voice accompanied by moist eyes were, "Elmo was Grandpa's middle name and I thought they were making fun of it and I didn't like it." Man did I feel like an idiot but I do have one thing that I can counter that with....all my life, I was told that my father's middle name was Edmond....it wasn't until about a month or so before he died that I was given the real story behind his name...and yes, his middle name was Elmo. Somehow it had gotten written wrong on his baptismal certificate. It was always Edmond to me....when he said they were calling him Elmo, I immediately thought of Elmo the muppet and thought it was cute that they came up with such a sweet name...although what I think is sweet is definitely not something my son would concur with.
It all suddenly made great sense to me and I immediately called the two girls over and explained things to them and it was like a shadow crossed both their faces and then a light went on....they understood and I apologized if I had upset them, they both smiled a little smile and gave me a nod...shy little things they are....but Honestly, I didn't yell at them...I just asked a question and the little girls lip was quivering almost immediately....then she started to well up with tears and man...I felt like such a meany. But it's all good now.
However, days like today....beautiful fall colors surrounding me, I can't help not thinking about my father. He would have loved it here today. I took a drive on my lunch to the scenic overlook, the long way back to our house on a road that follows the river...the smell, the colors....I felt my father today, he was near me....Things are easier but at the same time, so very hard when it hits.
Thanks for listening....
Friday, April 25, 2008
I will always look up to you
Well, it's over. Or it's just begun. At least what was the wrapping up of what has been--a whirlwind two, almost three weeks. I cannot say how I am feeling right now, feeling as though I'm walking in a fog. My heart is still very heavy, my head very jumbled, my body very tired.I am so very sad. I have never experienced a loss so close to me so these emotions are really a stranger to me. I feel as though I may never get out of this funk, never know what it is to be normal or functional again. But at the same time know that this will pass and it will make me a different sort of person...
As with everything in life, this too will make a new mold of me, teach me things about myself and those around me. My father was an incredible man and I'm sure this is said by most about their parents. Hearing all the stories about him, knowing what I know about him but mostly, the outpouring of friends and family that loved him.
The amount of people who came to his wake to pay their respects was overwhelming. He knew so very many people and each of them said in different ways how he touched their lives. But the most prominent things that every last person there spoke about were his laughter...his smile...and his ability to make jokes. The man...I just cannot even put into words his impact on all of us, it's overwhelming for me to try.
I posted this picture of him and I. Since I was a little girl, it has always touched me, been one of my favorite photos with my dad. My father loved his babies, he loved his grandchildren and his great grandchildren. Any child. All the numerous pictures I and my siblings have are of him with children. Holding them, cuddling them, sleeping with them...God he loved kids. He just loved period.
Kissing him goodbye yesterday was so very difficult. Knowing that it will be the last time I will ever get to touch him, to kiss him and to physically see him...
I know that I'm probably not making much sense with this post, that it's sad and for that I apologize...I just need to re acclimate, re adjust, learn how to walk through my days without my father's presence. It will get better, it will get easier but right now....
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
One big bad nightmare....
I have determined in the last hour or so that my blog will probably be pretty depressing over the next week or so. Or it could be less so...but either way, I won't be posting much about news or happy things as I mourn the loss of my dear father.
Amazing how up and down the emotions have been today. I must say that it's been a pretty rough one. My brother returned home safely from Kosovo. He is doing about as good as can be expected. It was so nice to hug him, something I have been aching to do for 2 weeks. I broke down balling in his arms yet told myself that I wouldn't do that...
It's so easy to believe that we can be strong but so hard to actually do it. I had to go purchase some clothing for the funeral today. It hit me pretty hard why I was buying them while I was trying them on. I looked at what I had picked out and WHAM...I needed to get out of the store. How could I be so concerned about how I look for such a sad occasion? How could I be worried about what my dad would think of the clothing I picked out for his new journey? How could I be shopping a day after he left? How could I decide what would be appropriate for such an occasion....my father....his funeral....Since then I have been a wreck. Sad, melancholy, confused, angry, talkative at moments, frustrated, happy for him, sad for my mom, hurt for my brother...
I don't like all these emotions...how they just suddenly creep up on me. I don't like that I have no control over what might rear it's ugly head next.
Pat and I stopped at a jeweler to pick up a St. Christopher medal for our son. My father wore his everyday...even in his hospital bed. That chain around his neck was always a presence. I promised our son that we would buy him one just like Grandpa's and that I would find a picture of Grandpa for him to have close to him. Our son liked this idea so it was done.
I sat here on our couch tonight and looked at the photos we had here. I have some as recent as last June...it made me think about how this has just got to be a dream...a horrible, horrible dream. Ugh....While I want this week to end and the events that lie ahead, I so don't want them to begin.
The usually mundane life that we all lead with the occasional thought of time passing by and people that we love getting older, I guess the thought of this was always just a thought...one that told me that I had plenty of time, plenty of preparation, and plenty of strength. I may very well have THOUGHT I prepared myself with my father having health issues over the last few years but I am now sure that no matter how much I strengthen my emotions over morbid thoughts that the pain that is within was not something I thought to prepare my heart for. Silly me...how naive I still am even at the age I'm at.
Please bear with me while I vent at my blog, while I put into words my sorrows and while I try to readjust to a life without my dad there to give me crap; for not answering my phone; picking on me for silly things that were always sure to make us pick fun at each other while we laughed and seen who could say the meanest thing to each other and who would end up giving up. At this point, I think we were pretty even though...there was no winner...just a lot of laughs and good jabs at one another. People who know my father know exactly what I'm talking about.
I'm sure that eventually I will post some memories but more sadness is to come...this much I know about myself...the coming days are going to be extremely difficult and blogging is my way of expressing.
See, I'm a mess today...can't seem to find a way in which to end this post...so on that note.............
Amazing how up and down the emotions have been today. I must say that it's been a pretty rough one. My brother returned home safely from Kosovo. He is doing about as good as can be expected. It was so nice to hug him, something I have been aching to do for 2 weeks. I broke down balling in his arms yet told myself that I wouldn't do that...
It's so easy to believe that we can be strong but so hard to actually do it. I had to go purchase some clothing for the funeral today. It hit me pretty hard why I was buying them while I was trying them on. I looked at what I had picked out and WHAM...I needed to get out of the store. How could I be so concerned about how I look for such a sad occasion? How could I be worried about what my dad would think of the clothing I picked out for his new journey? How could I be shopping a day after he left? How could I decide what would be appropriate for such an occasion....my father....his funeral....Since then I have been a wreck. Sad, melancholy, confused, angry, talkative at moments, frustrated, happy for him, sad for my mom, hurt for my brother...
I don't like all these emotions...how they just suddenly creep up on me. I don't like that I have no control over what might rear it's ugly head next.
Pat and I stopped at a jeweler to pick up a St. Christopher medal for our son. My father wore his everyday...even in his hospital bed. That chain around his neck was always a presence. I promised our son that we would buy him one just like Grandpa's and that I would find a picture of Grandpa for him to have close to him. Our son liked this idea so it was done.
I sat here on our couch tonight and looked at the photos we had here. I have some as recent as last June...it made me think about how this has just got to be a dream...a horrible, horrible dream. Ugh....While I want this week to end and the events that lie ahead, I so don't want them to begin.
The usually mundane life that we all lead with the occasional thought of time passing by and people that we love getting older, I guess the thought of this was always just a thought...one that told me that I had plenty of time, plenty of preparation, and plenty of strength. I may very well have THOUGHT I prepared myself with my father having health issues over the last few years but I am now sure that no matter how much I strengthen my emotions over morbid thoughts that the pain that is within was not something I thought to prepare my heart for. Silly me...how naive I still am even at the age I'm at.
Please bear with me while I vent at my blog, while I put into words my sorrows and while I try to readjust to a life without my dad there to give me crap; for not answering my phone; picking on me for silly things that were always sure to make us pick fun at each other while we laughed and seen who could say the meanest thing to each other and who would end up giving up. At this point, I think we were pretty even though...there was no winner...just a lot of laughs and good jabs at one another. People who know my father know exactly what I'm talking about.
I'm sure that eventually I will post some memories but more sadness is to come...this much I know about myself...the coming days are going to be extremely difficult and blogging is my way of expressing.
See, I'm a mess today...can't seem to find a way in which to end this post...so on that note.............
Monday, April 21, 2008
Peace for the weary
Well, my father passed away at 9:39 this morning: April 20th, 2008. While it's been a hard couple of weeks with many many tears and a chest weighted with pain, I am doing ok and very relieved and happy for my dad. I led myself to believe all day that my father was in fact wrapping his warmth, love and security around all of us and telling us that he is in a good place, that he is ok. That sun shined down warm and strong with a gentle breeze. Many times I closed my eyes today and raised my face up to the sun and breathed it in, and felt engulfed with love.
I have met a certain peace as has he. There were mumblings among the family members that yesterday there was rain or as the mumblings went, my fathers tears. For all his suffering and inability to say his words to us, it was very hard not to believe that that rain was his tears touching upon us in some way.
Tonight we sat at his and mom's house and looked through pictures and every once in awhile I would look up and seek out his scent, his voice, his breathing and realize that it wasn't there Then I would hang my head and reflect on the last couple of weeks, all the few but very special moments I shared with my dad and blink my tears back and continue on looking at old photos of him in preparation for his new journey in life.
I may very well be in denial at this point but I feel so free, not for me but for him. The last 3 days with him were very painful to see. I hope I didn't make the mistake of not allowing my 9-year old little guy not to see him. I just didn't want him to remember his grandpa that way. The last time he saw his grandpa in the hospital last week, he got the usual, 'how's my Bug-Man', a hug and some small talk. That was only a few days before, none of that was there. My son cried hard when he saw me tonight and buried his face in my shoulder. This little boy never shows me that kind of affection and acts a lot like his grandpa...tall and strong. It just broke my heart to see him so upset and made me question my decisions with all of this. But then I thought about it and thought that his grandpa wouldn't have wanted his little Bug-Man to see him in such a state either. Nor would my father have allowed us in that room if he could have willed the strength to tell us to get the hell out of there.
My dad was a strong man. It's strange talking in the past tense like this. To me he is and always will be a strong man. Not in physical but in mental and emotional. He fought hard, met many hurdles in this life, with all his health issues, conquered some but then lost others and in the end, even though things were happening to him that were not in his control, there was a moment with him that I will never forget.
My brother in Kosovo. It was devastating and surreal to have to get that ball rolling so he could get home in time. The itinerary came in via his wife and I was to deliver this news to our father on Saturday. I tried once but I don't think he heard me as he was focusing too much on other things. I was a little sad by this because whenever my brother's name was mentioned before it always seemed to perk him up. When it didn't....
After a major struggle last night and then the calm after the storm, it was at that time that we said a rosary with him and mom. After that, some special time alone with him before we headed off to bed would be granted to all of us by each other. After awhile I came to see if there was anyone by his bedside. For the first time in 2-weeks, there was no one. He looked so alone and it pained me to see him all alone. I wasn't really ready to say what needed to be said but I forced myself in there.
I spoke to him, said some words. I'm not sure if he heard me or not but continued on because I knew I had to say some things to him. In the midst of it all, I spoke my brother's name. My father responded with the quietest 'yes'. I told him my brother would be arriving on Monday/tomorrow (it was 4:00am this morning). I told him the time, that my brother couldn't wait to see him--he responded 'yes' again and his bottom lip came up...he was trying to speak but was too weak, but man he tried so hard. I told him that it was ok, I understood and he didn't need to waste his energy. I told him that my brother loves him, that my brother's wife loves him...after this, I was quiet and kissed him. Then I began to speak a little more...asked him a yes/no question...there was no response. He had gone back to resting.
I was glad that he heard me, glad that he knew his 'guardian angel' was on his way. Having our brother away has been very hard, talking with his wife has brought so many tears and emotions, text messaging my brother, the pain that has been felt for my brother and his wife has been indescribable. Even now.
My brother boarded his plane at 9:00am this morning our time. When that plane lifted off the ground, I do not know. I will forever believe that my father felt that his son was on his way, that he knew his son was coming home for him. People say that others wait for a special thing before they leave this life. Brother, you are it.
I ache for you but at the same time the love that I saw coming from our father for you is beyond words. A picture of my brother and a picture of my father's dog hung in his hospital room for most of my father's hospital stay. The pride my father would exude when asked who the 'handsome' soldier was that looks just like my father...my dad's reply was always...that's my son, my Guardian Angel. Those two pictures were my dad's guardian angels watching over him. Even now it makes me feel warm inside to write those words.
In the end, I know that sadness will linger deep inside for awhile. But I also know that eventually, time heals all wounds. As I said above, I am relieved for my dad but selfishly sad for myself and my family here in this house. The memories will be forever though and soon enough those memories will be talked about for the rest of my life.
You are so very loved Dad, so very special. May you now rest peacefully. I will forever love you....
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Realizations
I am taking another breather today. The weight of the stress in both my head in my heart is becoming just too much.
Two days ago, things were going well for my dad. He was up and walking, cheery, talkative and excited about the prospect of getting out of the hospital so he could sleep again.
Well, yesterday just wasn't as uplifting. He had a rough day yesterday, one that continued into today. His vitals are all really good and one would think that he would be able to just walk out if all that is normal. Not the case.
I'm having a pretty bad day today...tired, cranky, on edge...just not a good day, a good week.
Perhaps it's because I sat in his room with him and mom for most of the day yesterday and I got to see a lot. Progressions of sorts from one thing to the next. I was pretty torn up to have to leave but as I said before, that pull that I feel to be here or there...and what can I do for him but watch him, ache for him and for mom, "will" my own organs into his body so he can get better, just anything.
I guess I'm at a point of realization, the realization that no matter how much I love, how much I pray that one day the inevitable will happen. I know, that is morbid but the phases that I myself have been experiencing through all of this, the growing, the adjusting...
Dad is doing ok again today, as best as he was when I left him yesterday but is tired. Visitors, phone calls, nurses, all the procedures he's undergone...he is just tired.
Anyway...I must go now. Pat and I are going to have a dinner together tonight. I just need some time with him I think, some time to focus on things that I've been neglecting.
Two days ago, things were going well for my dad. He was up and walking, cheery, talkative and excited about the prospect of getting out of the hospital so he could sleep again.
Well, yesterday just wasn't as uplifting. He had a rough day yesterday, one that continued into today. His vitals are all really good and one would think that he would be able to just walk out if all that is normal. Not the case.
I'm having a pretty bad day today...tired, cranky, on edge...just not a good day, a good week.
Perhaps it's because I sat in his room with him and mom for most of the day yesterday and I got to see a lot. Progressions of sorts from one thing to the next. I was pretty torn up to have to leave but as I said before, that pull that I feel to be here or there...and what can I do for him but watch him, ache for him and for mom, "will" my own organs into his body so he can get better, just anything.
I guess I'm at a point of realization, the realization that no matter how much I love, how much I pray that one day the inevitable will happen. I know, that is morbid but the phases that I myself have been experiencing through all of this, the growing, the adjusting...
Dad is doing ok again today, as best as he was when I left him yesterday but is tired. Visitors, phone calls, nurses, all the procedures he's undergone...he is just tired.
Anyway...I must go now. Pat and I are going to have a dinner together tonight. I just need some time with him I think, some time to focus on things that I've been neglecting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)