"Just sit back and listen..."
04.03.09 (10:08 pm) [edit](continued)
Surprisingly enough one of my mom's biological children, Pat, decided to come and "check up" and see how "her mother" was doing. It had been two weeks after my dads surgery and it was nice to have my mom happy to see someone other than my brother and I. Pat is the closest to her out of all her biological children and it showed.
I was beginning to feel the weight of what was happening after three weeks of my dad's hospital stay. My husband and four children were missing me and it was all I could do to just keep it together. I was still going to work and my job was only a half a mile from my parents house so it made for short commutes. My routine became very complacent as I would leave work, see my dad at the hospital and stay for a couple hours then go to my parents house to relieve the nurse just in time to say good night to my mom and continue the "night shift".
I would sit in my dad's chair worrying, wondering, checking up, and finding a way to hold it together. I remember one night having to make a decision to see God in everything because there were times I was just too overburdened to cry. I needed to be strong, I needed to be the one that held it all together.
After the deed to the house was changed, the bank accounts were in order, and I finally had permission to intervene in my dad's healthcare, my world became complacent. I had to step down from ministerial duties, get used to only seeing my family once or twice a week, and learn how to juggle the rest of my days.
On February 23rd, almost one month after my dad's admission to the hospital, I received a call from my mom's nurse telling me that something wasn't right. I left work and in about two minutes arrived at the house and saw for myself what didn't appear normal. My mom was having coughing attacks. Not the normal "flu like" symptoms. Her lips were turning blue.
I called the paramedics and found myself in the same Trauma Center that I had visited just one month before. The hardest part was the feeling of complete and utter hopelessness. How do you explain to a person with Alzheimer's that they need to be seen by a doctor when they don't even comprehend what the hospital is, not to mention the traumatic experience of being taken by a bunch of men in a bus that has lights on it and is loud.
I called Pat, I called my brother, and I sat with my mom until they determined that she needed to be admitted for pneumonia.
It was when the nurse determined a catheter was needed that I felt another one of those traumatic feelings. The first one came when my dad's eyes starting rolling to the back of his head and his blood pressure dropped to 50/30. This time it was my mom who screamed at me at the top of her lungs to "make them stop" and to just "let her die." In one month I had heard both my parents tell me they wanted to leave this Earth, and I didn't know how much more I could take.
Due to insurance requirements, my mom was admitted and transported to a different hospital, this time it was thirty minutes south. My routine would now change again, and this time, I thought I would go insane.
"Too much, too bright, too powerful..." - Radiohead
"Squeeze the tubes and empty bottles..."
04.03.09 (2:20 pm) [edit]January 24th continued...
With a 7% chance of living, everyone was really cautious. No sudden movements, no coughing, no transports. Just sit and be still. He would be going in for surgery soon with local anesthesia. He had a lung operation a few years back and with his condition, if he had general anesthesia, he may never regain consciousness.
I stood outside the Trauma Center and I wondered what God was trying to do. My life as I knew it had changed; I just didn't realize how many more transitions I was about to encounter.
I went back into the room to visit with my dad and he looked at me and said, "I hope I don't make it out of here alive." I didn't know how to handle that statement. I wanted to be selfish and say "NO! You can't talk like that, I need you here." I know that was coming from guilt feelings of not having been there enough for him over the past few years. But when I stopped to think about why he said that, it occurred to me that after the last few years of being the primary caretaker of my Alzheimer's stricken mother, this man was tired.
After he told me he no longer wished to live, I stood there and looked at him, with tears in my eyes I asked him if there was anything he wanted me to do in the event he did not make I through the surgery. He told me to make sure my mom was taken care of and that she never be placed in a nursing home. I promised him I would do whatever it took to keep her home.
It was the longest surgery I have ever waited through. He was transferred to ICU and was able to regain consciousness and seemed to be recovering quickly. We never thought that the fact he was an alcoholic would be an issue, he wasn't showing any signs or symptoms of withdrawals. On the third day of his ICU stay he started asking me how my mom was. I told him that we had hired a nurse to care for her during the day, and at night my brother and I took turns staying with her.
With her severe dementia and onset of Alzheimer's, my mom requires a lot of care. She is incontinent, and fully dependent on my dad for bathing, eating and dressing. On her good days she knows who I am and asks me repeatedly about my son. On the bad days, she has no idea who I am and screams at me to leave. So, I continue to tell my dad about how my mom is doing. So far she knows my dad is in the hospital and keeps asking when he is coming home. Our standard response is "Two days mom, he will be home in two days." She cries, she whimpers, and then we tell her how good he is doing and she tells us "thank you for taking care of me." It's hard to see your parents get older, but I have come to realize a necessary stage in life.
My dad seemed confident that she was doing fine, he was pissed that he was still alive, but then he asked me to handle some of his affairs. He was upset that he hadn't completed a Living Will and wanted to know what finances were not in order. I explained to him after speaking to an attorney that if something were to happen, there was no guardian set in place for my mom and everything would go into probate. He asked me to fix everything, and that is exactly what I did.
My mom has four biological children prior to marrying my dad, and my brother and I were adopted...My dad was adamant that her children not receive a dime for issues I won't get into now. He was angry even more now that no one came to help with her since they only lived a couple hours away. They all knew where he was, but it was almost like they thought it wasn't a big deal...
"an elephant that's in the room is tumbling, tumbling, tumbling..." - Radiohead
"This is just a nightmare..."
03.29.09 (9:10 pm) [edit]January 24th.
That's when it all started. I thought for sure 2009 would start off great! And it did, until Saturday January 24th, 2009. The weekend was filled with activities solely for my husband and I. No kids, no baseball games, no church activities, just the spa, a nice dinner and dancing...
Not after the phone call I received. Within an hour of that conversation I found myself in the Emergency Room at the local Trauma Center with my dad in unstable condition. What had happened? I'm only forty minutes away? Didn't he know he was sick? When was the last time I visited him? It couldn't have been more than a couple months. Though I don't remember the last time I called him, crap this isn't good.
He sees me as I push aside the sheet used as a curtain and he smiles. I almost feel guilty. He's wondering who is taking care of my mom since he is her primary caretaker and he is obviously not at the house. I tell him it's covered and to tell me what happened.
Apparently he had a dizzy spell and fainted. Luckily the housekeeper who comes three days a week had a key and was able to come in and find him on the floor. The ambulance were called and he was rushed to the hospital, hating every minute of it.
My mom has Alzheimer's, though she may not remember the events, the emotional turmoil could get her really upset. But it's all worked out right now, I just needed to make sure he was better.
A doctor from insurance company comes in with his arrogance and starts asking my dad a dozen questions about his health as they assess his condition. His blood pressure is low at like 70/50 and he is barely responsive. He can barely talk and this whole interview is to determine what hospital he will be transported to.
As this conversation continues his blood pressure drops to 50/30 and his eyes start to roll to the back of his head. This stupid f'n doctor is still asking his retarded questions as my dad now starts to vomit. I look over with as much composure as possible and say "Are you just going to let him die? Or are you going to check him?" The doctor assumes the cuff is malfunctioning so they get him a new one and the blood pressure reads the same. YOU IDIOT! You're wasting time!
The ER doctor comes in and realizes what is happening, tells the insurance doctor to take a hike, he's not going to another hospital and I am asked to leave the room.
My dad, the vigorous man I know, always working and tinkering around outside or in the garden was laid up on a hospital bed, eyes rolling back, face completely pale, throwing up and I have no idea what is wrong with him. I wasn't ready to lose my dad.
I went outside to call my brother and he was only five minutes away. I'm a wreck.
Ten minutes later I am able to see him and he has a central line and they are telling me and my brother he has an aortic aneurysm that is bleeding internally and reality is he only has a 7% chance to live.
"I don't wanna hear it, I don't wanna know it, I just wanna run and hide..." - Radiohead
"You used to be alright...what happened?"
01.27.08 (9:53 pm) [edit]Today I am tired. I think I am finally coming to terms with all the emotional issues that are surrounding me. I didn't even cry today and I thought for sure I would once I stepped into the church sanctuary.
But I didn't...
I looked up my brothers case records online to see what he is getting charged with. Two felonies and a misdemeanor. I guess I should be more upset than I am at this particular moment, but why?
There is no feeling of security knowing he is in jail and not out on the street somewhere living out of his truck. There just isn't. Being in jail isn't the safest place for him. I'm afraid that one day he will think it is all too much and decide to throw his life away.
I pray that doesn't happen.
I'm going to do my best to make it to his sentencing hearing. I'm sure he doesn't want me there but that's ok, I'm going to try and go anyway.
It's not that we are at odds, its just that he feels he lets me down. And he does, I just don't tell him that. With my words I would just be feeding his addiction.
Maybe tomorrow I can navigate through my feelings a little better. But for right now at this moment, my body is going into shut down mode.
I need rest.
"Fifteen steps, then a shear drop..." - Radiohead
01.26.08 (10:32 pm) [edit]
I got the call today. I knew it was coming. Alex only calls me for one reason.
I was in the middle of the grocery store check out line when I answered the phone with... What happened? No hearty salutations, no ...How is the family?, just a distinct knowledge in my spirit that something was not right.
And its not.
It seems like this traumatic event never turns from crisis to circumstance. I think we have all been stuck in crisis mode for the past thirty years now. Its hard to know anything different.
I couldnt even cry about it. I am still angry, really angry.
Maybe three strikes is better than dead. Maybe now he gets sober. Maybe, just maybe, he finds his way back to God again. I wonder when his grace will run out. After all those overdoses, screwing people over, living on the dark side of life, and all the GET OUT OF FREE cards he has accumulated by such a forgiving Father.
Death or Life in prison.
For selfish reasons Im glad he got picked up because now he isnt living out of his truck in some park trying to find the crack to get him through his day.
Its all just disappointing. Will he die in jail? Arrested with a felony. He’s facing 6-8 years on a non-violent crime and he already has two strikes on his record. As if none of this is bad enough, he is still on parole.
I love him. I always will.
Nothing can separate me from him. Not circumstance, crisis, jail,nor death. Who else is going to stand up for him?
Today, I am angry. Tomorrow, I think Ill just be sad. I have to many emotions to deal with, I need to get to church, my brother is going to die in jail
"Nervous messed up marionettes...Floating around on a prison ship..." - Radiohead
I got the call today. I knew it was coming. Alex only calls me for one reason.
I was in the middle of the grocery store check out line when I answered the phone with... What happened? No hearty salutations, no ...How is the family?, just a distinct knowledge in my spirit that something was not right.
And its not.
It seems like this traumatic event never turns from crisis to circumstance. I think we have all been stuck in crisis mode for the past thirty years now. Its hard to know anything different.
I couldnt even cry about it. I am still angry, really angry.
Maybe three strikes is better than dead. Maybe now he gets sober. Maybe, just maybe, he finds his way back to God again. I wonder when his grace will run out. After all those overdoses, screwing people over, living on the dark side of life, and all the GET OUT OF FREE cards he has accumulated by such a forgiving Father.
Death or Life in prison.
For selfish reasons Im glad he got picked up because now he isnt living out of his truck in some park trying to find the crack to get him through his day.
Its all just disappointing. Will he die in jail? Arrested with a felony. He’s facing 6-8 years on a non-violent crime and he already has two strikes on his record. As if none of this is bad enough, he is still on parole.
I love him. I always will.
Nothing can separate me from him. Not circumstance, crisis, jail,nor death. Who else is going to stand up for him?
Today, I am angry. Tomorrow, I think Ill just be sad. I have to many emotions to deal with, I need to get to church, my brother is going to die in jail
"Nervous messed up marionettes...Floating around on a prison ship..." - Radiohead
"I do not understand what it is I've done wrong..."
01.25.08 (7:34 pm) [edit]I don't know what happened. One day she was there, and the next day she was gone.
People have so many different names for it, so many ideas about why it happens. All I know is the pain that it causes and the emotional toll it takes on a person.
I went to the doctor today and she told me I have a long road ahead of me before things get better so she put me on anti-anxiety medication. I almost feel like a failure. I swore that if I just went to church and believed in God that I wouldn't have to go back on those drugs again.
But as the stress manifests itself in my body I realize that it doesn't matter what you believe. Pain is pain.
I thought about going through her pictures today but I figured the news from my doctor was hard enough to hear. Reliving old memories would just make the pain that much worse, so I decided to come home and cry instead. I guess I feel better, it's hard to know whether God is listening or if He has chosen some other broken soul to mend.
Broken. Today that's what I am.
The holidays came and went and I had this feeling that maybe remembering her wouldn't be so hard. In my heart I really believed that the pain would just be something I thought about in passing. But it doesn't leave. It becomes this dull ache in my soul that I have just learned to ignore. Maybe if I joined a support group I could find people like me that needed a place to just be, and then I remember that I haven't had such good success in them so why start again now?
I'm waiting for the church people to tell me to just pray. And what exactly would I be praying for?
None of this was hard until she was gone. It's like watching someone waiting to die because there is nothing else to live for. I look at her, and she is just a shell, a person who used to be. In her face I see the mother that I used to love to hear laugh, the one who cried with me during all my circumstances, the one who accepted me for who I was.
I remember she used to tell me that she couldn't wait for me to have a child because she wanted so much to be it's grandmother. We used to go shopping every week or out to lunch and we talked about anything and everything. She was my best friend. She cried with me the day I found out I was adopted, and she told me how sorry she was when I found out that my adoptive mother couldn't raise me either.
Life has been hard.
I don't believe that anything has hurt more than the day she looked at me and told me she hated me. The doctors called it Alzheimer's. I call it the worst pain a person can ever endure. Rejection was my friend.
She will be 85 in March, and I don't know what to pray for. A longer life or a quick and painless death.
Anti-anxiety medication. God where are you?
Because this is my life.
"Has the light gone out for you? Because the light's gone for me..." - Radiohead
"Are you begging for a break?"
01.04.07 (1:51 pm) [edit]I hate my job. I hate it. It sucks, and I hate it. I am tired of male egos, a boss who says he will take time to teach and train me, then sends me e-mails about how sorry he is he hasn't given me enough time to go over things. I am tired of trying to perform at this level of mediocrity when I know my potential is so much greater. I hate the fact that in order to quit this job I have to find another one at the same pay scale in order to meet our mortgage and car payments.
I am pissed.
I need to do something more with my life, I am tired of the lack of leadership, I need to go somewhere that I can succeed successfully with a team not just by myself.
Ugh, I am so frustrated right now. The holidays were good though.
"We suck young blood..." - Radiohead
"Light another candle and release me..."
11.28.06 (8:44 am) [edit]Seems this time of year my blogs are few and far between. It's hard to keep up with all the kids, the husband, work and everything else that is considered part of my conventional life as I strive so hard to just be a non-conformist. Ah well, such is life.
Some updates...Soccer season is over and I am the proud couch of a second place team! Out of ten teams we made it to 2nd and I am so proud of all the kids I had the honor of coaching. One of the parents asked me if I would return to coaching next season, but no, I am done with it for now. It's so emotionally taxing, and physically challenging on the days when I would rather sleep in on a Saturday instead of coaching a 9:00 game. Our end of the season pizza party is Friday night, so I am quite looking forward to sharing my experiences and wishing the kids off to the next season.
Ben and Just start Flag Football today and as much as I know being a team mom is FAR out of my schedule, it seems the coaching mom is still in need of something to fulfill the youth side of her existence. I guess I need to feel like I am participating with my kids because of all the rewards I get out of it. So, tonight, I will volunteer as the team mom.
Onto some sad news...
I saw my mom over the Thanksgiving weekend. For those of you who don't know, she is 83 and has Alzheimer's. So, I went to visit and now I remember why I don't go. She saw me, started crying, then in spanish told me that she wished God would just take her away now because she didn't want to live like this. I asked her if she believed she would go to heaven and she said she hoped so. I told Ben to sit with her and hug her as much as possible because this may be the last time we see her. Sadly enough, I shedded a few tears that day but none since then. It feels like this gaping whole in my heart and there are no words, no emotions, and no miracle fixes for it. I know at some point I really need to release it, but I guess in this situation its hard to know how. I will work it out, I am sure church will be good for me this Sunday, I think I just need to deal with it all the best way I can.
With all of this, I have been called and asked upon for advice more often. One friend of mine thanked me on Thanksgiving Day and said she wanted to do for others what I had done for her. To me, I just thought I was being honest, to her, it was what she needed to hear. Another person I love asked me for some spiritual advice, which I gave, and she was thankful that I was the only person she could talk to about her specific situation.
I am in awe at how much God has been moving in my life, to the point that I am going back to school this Spring to finally work on my BA. I am going to start from the bottom and work my way through math and english, but for my future...this is what I need to do. I am considering majoring in communications and writing. I figure, if I want to be good at motivational speaking, I should figure out how the right way to do it is. I have also briefly thought about politics again. This has always been a dream of mine to stand up for the rights of people, so hopefully with a degree in hand I can pursue my dream. The ultimate goal if nothing else is to be ordained and a family / marriage counselor. I think this is my calling.
Well, with all the Holiday hustle and bustle, I hope to get on here more frequently to vent but who knows...
"Clothes are on the lawn with the furniture..." - Radiohead
"When sorry is not good enough..."
11.02.06 (1:10 pm) [edit]Well if you didn't know I am a HUGE myspace fool. I get sucked into it everyday for at least an hour...
Yesterday was no exception to that rule.
I started searching and found my biological sister. We share the same mom but have different dads. I met her when I was thirteen and she was eight. It was at a time when I didn't know my real mother from Eve and I was forced to move in with her because all of a sudden my grandparents on my adopted mother's side, couldn't afford me any more. I lived with them for about six months until my real mother decided I was once again in her way and told my grandma to come get me or I would be put back into the foster system.
I missed my sister, but my grandma wouldn't let me keep in touch. So when I was eighteen, I went back to see her. At that time she was thirteen. I got her drunk, yes I know this is wrong, and I was a horrible example of a big sister. I was a horrible example to myself. I stuck around for about nine months, then stopped talking to her again.
I don't remember how but when I was twenty-three, I saw her again. She invited me to her daughter's baptism and I spoke to her for a couple months. Then I did the same old disappearing act on her again...
So I saw her on myspace...and this was my letter to her...
Dear __________,
I’ve waited a long time to write you this, and now that I have an opportunity to tell you some things, I wanted to before the moment passes. First of all I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. I know that I have let you down; I know that I have failed you as a sister, a friend and everything else. I make no excuses for my actions; I only know where I am now, and what I have learned. I never expected that I would have a chance to explain myself for something that really can’t be explained. My life has been so hard and such a roller coaster that it is hard to even put into words the feelings and the emotions behind it.
I should never have tried to be a part of your life if I didn’t have the commitment to stay in it. And both times I resurfaced; I didn’t even have a commitment to myself. It was hard for me to be a sister, to be your family, to even be a friend. So much of my past was surrounded with you that it wasn’t your fault I had to get away from it. I had such horrible role models growing up that there was no one to help me figure out what it meant to be a sister, what being part of a family meant. You see, the family I was raised with is no longer a family. It wasn’t fair that you were caught up in the middle of my mess and that you were set up just to be let down and it wasn’t fair that I gave you false hope. I want you to know just how guilty and sad I feel about making you the victim of my own personal emotional issues.
Things started getting better for me after I decided to let go of a lot of people in my life that did nothing but bring me down, the mother who raised me included. I have had to learn what loving someone and being loved meant all over again. I had to learn to trust people only after I could figure out how to trust myself. I could go on and on about the experiences I have had, the pain I’ve endured and all the lessons in my life, but that would be too long to even start here. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry for what I have done to you, and sorry that I never took the importance of you being my sister.
I could say things are different now, but really the only thing that is different is that I have overcome. I hope to one day be the sister that you deserve, even if it takes another 23 years. I hope to at least be a friend. But I completely understand if you’d rather I just stay away. You have a beautiful family and you deserve the very best. For once in my life, I am finally happy and I realize that God set me up on this journey for a reason. I won’t make any promises to you, I just hope you know I love you, I always have and that if you ever feel like rebuilding a relationship, this time you have my commitment that I will put the effort in to making it happen.
Signed, ___________
I hope God restores this. I hope she can see my heart in this letter. I have come to terms with the fact that she may hate me. And that is something I will live with.
"Sit in the back when no one drives..." - Radiohead
Why should I stay here?
10.30.06 (10:28 am) [edit]It's been a while, I know, and so many things are taking place...so fast it's been hard to stop and just enjoy the advancements in my life.
This weekend we enjoyed Friday nights Harvest Festival at the boys school, Saturday was the Women's Breakfast at our church, followed by Trick or Treating in 'Old Towne', and Sunday was Church, Street Preaching at a 'Dia de los Muertos' Festival, and the grand finale of Pumpkin Carving. I thought it was quite imaginative that my four year old wanted ghosts on one side of his pumpkin and the other side of it a cross. He said it represented the Holy Ghost. My three year old opted for Noah's Ark. Quite creative.
I had never done street preaching before, and in the past few days, God has done some amazing things in my life. Our church had over 100 people all over this festival that honored the dead and we paired up in teams. I went out with a Deaconess in our church, two kids in a wagon, and proceeded to talk to people about Christ. What I found so amazing was the fact that I didn't feel the need to be religious. It finally made sense to me. My life, my journey, my destination. All the things I had been through in my life, all the hurt, the heartache, the rejection, it was done to mold me into what I was about to say to these people.
I found myself witnessing, giving testimony, and seeing the desparity in people who thought Christ left them. It was through my own walk with God, my own life experiences that I was able to show others that if I was put through it and still had the grace and mercy of God, then why couldn't they? I spoke to men that at any moments notice would have started crying. It was look, a twitch in their reaction, the pain in their eyes. And what's more was how I felt speaking to these people who felt so lost.
I spoke to a young marine who said he stopped going to church and stopped believing in God because when he went to Iraq, he lost his best friend. I told this young man I completely understood. Because I did. But my words to him were not to run to church, not to open his Bible. My words were simple, and it is true, God tells you what to say. And the words that came out of my mouth shocked even me. I told this young man that life in and of itself is a miracle. People were not brought into this world without reason. His best friend though now gone, brought something into his life that God wanted him to have and to continue in life without sharing that gift would not be right. Though life is taken away, his best friend's life is still alive because of all the people he touched and imparted his gift into. I thought he was going to cry. I told him he needed to work it out with God, and at some point he will be called back, but he needed to take his time to mourn his loss and to find comfort with God.
I spoke to another young man who was void in the relationship with his dad. Because he never knew his father and all the people who wanted to be his father let him down. Again, another area I understand. He said he had made some bad choices and realized that he needed to right by God, but was still making bad choices and one day he would get better at it. I told him that for every right decision I have made in my life I made three wrong ones. I told him I used to be a drug addict, had an abortion, was homeless, all based on my own decisions. But God still loves me and still covered me in His Grace. I told him that God didn't send those men in his life just to hurt him but rather to impart little by little the things he lacked because he didn't have a father, all in an effort to make him whole. God never gives up on us. I challenged him to go back into his past, and evaluate the good things he got out of the male figures in his life, then take the rejection, the hurt and the anger and lay it at the altar. I felt comfortable saying this since he was already attending church.
These are just a couple of examples of some of the ten people I met and spoke to. And I realized I am ready. I am ready to do what God has called me to do. I am ready to take the responsibility, the accountability, the rejection, everything that encompasses delivering people from their bondage and showing them that God really does help us.
I said I would post it here first...I want to be a minister in my own right. A prohetess, someone who can go up to people and maybe not convert them into Christianity but at least let them know that no matter what has binded them in the past, they are still a person who has a right to dream, they don't need their past to dictate who they are. We are all free to dream, free to become, I think some people need a little push. And I want to be the person that gives them that. Maybe its motivational speaking, maybe its called inspiration, whatever it is, I want to do it. I want to write about it, speak to people about it, and be known for it so that when people need it they can come to me for a word of encouragement.
There, I said it...
Now, watch me do it...
"I follow to the edge of the Earth..." - Radiohead