list. I think there are only two people that know where my blog is.
This writing is very personal and I didn't want everyone on it to see
it. But, I did want ya'll to know that I have a blog and much of the
year's story is on it.
We always compliment others on their strength. We have great
admiration for the strong. "Oh, he or she is such a strong person.
If only I could be more like s/he." The value of a person is often
seen by the outward accomplishments. Accomplishments in business, in
finishing a project, in a job well done and the strength it took to
accomplish such. We know how important it is to remain strong. God
forbid if we show our "weaknesses" our "vulnerabilities". Just stay
strong, nothing will be handed to you that you won't have the strength
to do.
I don't see much literature on the virtues of "cracking" so, those of
us who crack want to hide it and not show it to many or any others.
God knows that cracking shows weakness and strength is what we all
strive for. The problem is, I see an awful lot of cracking these
days. I will be the first to raise my hand to say that my crack is
beginning to feel more like a valley, and not a small one. I also see
that it is not just me.
For instance. I have a relative that is separating from a spouse. Of
course, they are telling no one. Each are falling apart inside in
their own ways. One calls me almost daily from sheer loneliness,
though these two still see one another every day.
Then there is the other relative that is calling and threatening
suicide telling me that there are two pistols in the house. No, they
probably will not be used, there was a cry out for help to me, on the
phone. This one would never let anyone know other than a chosen few.
This one thinks the most important life value is to be strong, to pray
and to believe.
OK, back to me. I don't pretend to be very strong these days. I have
had the ____ kicked out of me this year, this month but, lets talk
about this day. Sleep eludes me until it doesn't and then I am out
like the dead, sleeping way into the day and wondering how I will ever
get all the things done I need to do that requires business hours.
You know, strong people operate from morning to night. Up with the
chickens, burning daylight, getting things done. Well, my daylight
hours are shorter than those people, these days.
When I arise from the stupor that could have been sleep, I take care
of the dogs and stress that I am not at the hospital. Today was a
typical one of those. I finally called the Vet to get a new
prescription that I needed over a week ago for Nash and said I would
pick it up on the way to the hospital, if I didn't forget. After
dressing and doing as little grooming as possible to make it out the
door, I got in the car to get started with the day. I had a short
visit with my friend, Pat Groves a day or so before and needed to get
some clarification on an opinion of his that we had talked about. I
thought he had said, spend down every cent if needed, to take care of
John and something will work out. I remember the days several decades
ago when I always thought that way. And you know? It always did work
out. Until the time that it didn't and it didn't in such a big way, I
have had difficulty trusting the universe to provide, since. Gosh, a
strong one would not let a little thing like that stop one.
I called Pat and yes, this is what he had said. We talked about it
for a while and I cried. Sobbed. Scared. But, he gave me a
perspective that was helpful enough to get me to call Sherry Williams
about some business that I have not been able to call her about in
three weeks. As we talked, I sobbed. Thank goodness I carry tissue
in my car. The passenger seat was getting pretty full of it.
I had to end the call with Sherry so I could go into the Vet's to get
the overdue medicine. As I was pulling out of the parking lot, my car
dinged and told me to get gas so, I pulled in to Boltons, right across
the street to fill up. While cleaning my windshield, I saw out of the
corner of my eye, Melinda. Oh, Melinda. Sweet simple Melinda. I
waved and went about my business of filling up. Melinda works for a
home care agency that Pat had hired to care for Rita during the day
hours during the last part of her life. Melinda was one of the care
takers. She was very sweet but, really likes to exercise her vocal
cords. Constantly. Constantly. Rita had insisted that I let Melinda
go because the constant banter was driving her to distraction,
irritation, exhaustion and quite frankly out of her mind.
Once I filled up, I realized that there is a Hospice in the same
parking lot of this service station and maybe it was time for me to go
talk to them about their services or, maybe it was time for me to do
some venting with one of the counselors there. (I had done this once
before last summer.) I pulled the car into a parking lot, gave it a
minute's thought, then decided that I really needed to get to the
hospital. I hadn't been there all day and it was approaching 4PM. I
look to my right and what do I see? Melinda pulling up next to me,
getting out of her car, opening my passenger door as I threw the wet
tissues into the back floor of my car so she wouldn't drown in them.
As she sat down in the car, she burst into tears, told me that her
husband had filed for divorce and threw herself at me and held on for
dear life. I patted her back and told her that I didn't know many
people who were not going through personal hell right now. Melinda
went on to tell me about all she could, none of it making much sense.
Her husband filed for bankruptcy, has a millionaire pair of parents,
was sleeping in a parking lot in his car, had packed up all his
belongings in boxes over a couple of weeks but, she had not noticed.
During this confessional, I got a call from Allison to ask how John
is. I had to tell her that I don't know. Because I don't. Not
because I hadn't seen him yet but, because, I DON'T KNOW. From the
call Melinda asked what was going on with John. I gave her a very
brief cancer with no stomach answer. That satisfied her and she
continued to talk. I did get in about 5 times that I had not seen
John yet and that I needed to get to the hospital. That didn't slow
Melinda's story down about their sex life and what she needs and how
her husband said he needed more quiet and she just didn't understand
what he meant. She finally let me go. Almost an hour and a half later.
SO..............................I go to the hospital. I got a call
from my friend, Pam Thompson that she was going to come by to leave
off some incredible homemade candy. I told her that I was a wreck and
to come on up. I cried all the way up the elevator. My guess is the
people in the small space with me was thinking that I was not being
very strong. I was bringing John some clean scrubs and underwear. As
he was struggling with getting these on, fighting with all of the
tubes coming out of his body, I started to help him when my cell phone
rang.
Guess who? It was Melinda. She was making sure that she still had my
correct cell number. She had saved it from the time she was taking
care of Rita. Sigh. I got off the phone as soon as I could.
John got changed and tried to eat something the hospital had brought
him. Very soon, Pam walked in. A little beam of sunshine. I was
sitting on the couch crying. John was eating and happy to see the
candy. When I had unpacked his extra clothing, I had unloaded the
week or two's worth of mail that I had not been capable of opening.
Pam saw it, picked it up and said, come on. ( Pam and I go back to
the 70's and she is fully aware of my paper phobia.) We went out in
the hall to a desk and tackled that paper like it was just some sort
of by product of trees or something. It was amazing. The biggest
pile was to be shredded. The second biggest was in the trash basket,
the next was either bills to pay or phone calls to make. She picked
up her cell and made some of those phone calls on the spot without
asking me anything and got some answers to some questions I have
needed to ask for a month or two. The smallest pile was one that
needs to be filed. When I got home with the paper, I shredded like a
strong, powerful woman!
It remains to be seen when the bills or calls will be made but, I am
shooting for tomorrow. The filing.....hmmmmmmm, that may have to be
left to someone else.
So, this is my day. I was hoping I would sleep earlier tonight but,
it's after 2 and I am typing.
I talked to Judy Wilkins tonight. She lost her husband to cancer this
past January. His illness took him in only 4 months. She told me how
strong I am. She said that from the time that Louis got sick, she
always had a least 2 other people in the house helping her. Louis had
lots of friends. It got to a point that those friends told Judy that
they were going to have to hire some help so, then it was 4 people, at
all times. She says she doesn't know how I am still standing. She
said a year ago today, one of her friends called the doctor to come to
give her a shot to put her out so she could sleep. She slept 24
hours. I can't imagine having that kind of help, I have had
intermittent help during the 7 months this has gone on but, nothing
like Judy had. We talked about the differences. Louis had many
friends. John has not cultivated friends. That is a big difference.
My friends want to help me but, they don't want to come to care for
John on a regular basis and that makes sense to me.
She has suggested that I contact Hospice to see what kind of help I
can get. I think I have passed strong and have moved into crack. So,
what does that mean? Is that weak? I really don't know and I am not
sure I that I will ever really care about that. I just get a little
tired of people staring at me while I walk around in public sobbing.
I need to get some bigger sunglasses.
That may be the whole answer to the question. The strongest ones have
the largest sunglasses. Think about Jackie Kennedy.
That's my story for the day.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment