My dear mother in law passed away on Sunday night. She allowed me to get home from being out of town for the weekend, before she took her last breath. She passed away peacefully, in her sleep, in her own bed next to her husband of 61 and a half years. A real blessing. She was in no pain and didn't suffer, for which I will be eternally grateful.
When I started dating my husband and he would tell me stories about his childhood, he would sometimes refer to the "black-haired" Emma. I don't know that she was actually mean. It may be just a child's perspective. She was trying, most of the time in vain, to discipline four kids while her husband spent most of his time working or in the hospital. As a religious woman, she would try to use the threat of the saints to curtail her kids behavior. Unfortunately, they would sometimes use it against her and tease her about it. She told them that if they ever raised their hand to their mother, an angel would grab it and hold it so they couldn't hit her. So. Tell that to boys and you know what is going to happen. Them running up to their mother with their arms held up in the air, screaming that they couldn't put them down because some unseen force was holding them there. I don't know if she ever chased them with a rolling pin. Or even laid a hand on them. But the "black-haired" Emma had a reputation.
I only knew the "white-haired" Emma. In most of my earliest memories of her, she had one volume. Loud. When Emily was born, Paul's mom called her Bupa (sp?). Doll, in Italian. but she didn't say bupa quietly, she said BUPA! in her face. We used to have to pre-condition Em to it before we came up to visit, by yelling BUPA at her so she wouldn't startle. The other famously "yelled" word was JIMMY! Usually directed at her husband. But sometimes at her son when he was stealing mushrooms out of her sauce.
Some other things I remember about her. She always had her nails done. And her hair. She loved purses, jewelery and shoes. She told me one of the first time I met her that I could call her mom. After we got a priest to stand up at our wedding and bless us, she never, ever had issues with me not being Catholic or Italian. She loved being a grandmother. She loved my kids. She loved me.
After losing two sons, being moved out of her home, being run over by her husband on his scooter and then being moved again into our home, she was diminished. She was physically smaller after loosing so much weight. She was mentally smaller because of the losses she had incurred. She was vocally smaller because of a cough she developed that would take her air away as she was talking. Although even a few days before she died, she could be heard yelling JIMMY at her husband. She was emotionally smaller, I think because of just having using it all with such abandon throughout her life. But she still had a spark. Every once in a while, I could see it in her eyes. That little glint of what I imagine the "black-haired" Emma to be like.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
parenthood
I love my children. I love being a mom. But there is probably no job out there that is as frustrating. Or stressful. And you do it without getting to see the results sometimes for years. It's not like other jobs. A heart surgeon has a lot of stress and I'm sure can be frustrating. But you pretty much know as soon as you take the clamps off whether it is a success or not. An auto mechanic knows when he puts the key in and tries to turn over the engine, whether the job he performed was a success. There are many things that you do as a parent that you can see the results fairly quickly. But there are huge things that you deal with that take months and sometimes years to prove out. So instead of getting immediate feedback to justify what you are doing, or at least give you a bit of insight as to whatever you are doing is working, a lot of time you are left laying there in the middle of the night questioning everything you did that day.
And don't get me started on the guilt. You feel guilty for everything you do. Even when they turn out alright. You still go over them, thinking of ways you could have handled it better.
It is a vicious cycle.
I wonder as I watch my inlaws going through the final stages of their lives, if they still feel that way. Do you always worry about your kids? Do you still second guess your decisions? Do you lay awake at night and wonder if you did it right or at least well.
Is there ever a point in your life where you can deem the job successfully done?
And don't get me started on the guilt. You feel guilty for everything you do. Even when they turn out alright. You still go over them, thinking of ways you could have handled it better.
It is a vicious cycle.
I wonder as I watch my inlaws going through the final stages of their lives, if they still feel that way. Do you always worry about your kids? Do you still second guess your decisions? Do you lay awake at night and wonder if you did it right or at least well.
Is there ever a point in your life where you can deem the job successfully done?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Hospice
So. We had a meeting with a Hospice coordinator today. What a wonderful woman. It truly takes someone special to be involved in the process of dying. She went through everything that Hospice can do for my MIL. She took her time explaining everything to us. My FIL had a hard time hearing (what else is new) but once he put a new battery in his hearing aid, he could follow along with the conversation.
When we reached the part of the conversation that had to do with end of life wishes, the dreaded DNR came up. My MIL said she didn't want to be hooked up to any machines. My FIL agreed! That is the first time I have ever heard him talk about such things!
I think the feeling that I came away with was one of relief. Someone was here to help. It has been a strange thing to see. We put the word out to family and friends after we got the diagnosis and there have been no visitors since! I know people are busy and have lives of their own. But here is this poor, little woman. Sitting at home, day after day. And none of her friends or family have come to see her. Now to be fair, they both have outlived a lot of their friends. But still it is sad. I hope that with the help of Hospice and the visiting Angel woman, they will have some company.
Again, we are faced with the ending of a persons life and yet the dull, dreary daily routine of life keeps chugging along. Groceries have to be purchased and laundry needs to be done. Pills have to be refilled and sheets changed. Maybe it is the repetition of these seemingly meaningless tasks that actually keep us on track. The familiarity of daily life and its routine keeps us moving forward. Every day, moving forward. And little by little we move past the hardship or the hurt or loss that is in the now. Here's hoping that there is some happiness and peace in the future.
When we reached the part of the conversation that had to do with end of life wishes, the dreaded DNR came up. My MIL said she didn't want to be hooked up to any machines. My FIL agreed! That is the first time I have ever heard him talk about such things!
I think the feeling that I came away with was one of relief. Someone was here to help. It has been a strange thing to see. We put the word out to family and friends after we got the diagnosis and there have been no visitors since! I know people are busy and have lives of their own. But here is this poor, little woman. Sitting at home, day after day. And none of her friends or family have come to see her. Now to be fair, they both have outlived a lot of their friends. But still it is sad. I hope that with the help of Hospice and the visiting Angel woman, they will have some company.
Again, we are faced with the ending of a persons life and yet the dull, dreary daily routine of life keeps chugging along. Groceries have to be purchased and laundry needs to be done. Pills have to be refilled and sheets changed. Maybe it is the repetition of these seemingly meaningless tasks that actually keep us on track. The familiarity of daily life and its routine keeps us moving forward. Every day, moving forward. And little by little we move past the hardship or the hurt or loss that is in the now. Here's hoping that there is some happiness and peace in the future.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Friday again
Sitting here at my computer after what seemed like the longest week of my life. How come some times they fly by and other times the drag? I think this one dragged because it felt like I just couldn't catch a break all week. It's exhausting!
MIL is doing ok. She keeps saying how good she feels. I think she is worried about when she might start to feel badly. What it will feel like as the disease progresses. We have promised her that with her doctors help, she would be pain free and not alone.
We are hiring someone to come in twice a week, to start, and help out. Not entirely sure how that is going to go over with them. FIL still feels he is capable of taking care of them both. The woman we spoke to was really nice. She kept telling us that all the things we don't have the time (or patience) to do, they will. Because that is what they are here for and it's what they do. He likes to cook? They will cook stuff with him, side by side. He likes to play cards, they'll play cards with him. They will listen to the stories that they haven't heard a thousand times before, like we have. When they asked what MIL likes to do, I said she likes to sit in front of the fire and watch TV. I felt like a bad mother who sits her kids in front of the TV all day!! But she likes her stories and since she isn't reading anymore, this is how she gets them. As a matter of fact, as we talked to this woman, it became increasingly apparent that he is the one who needs the supervision. He is the one who is always wanting to do something.
So as I said, we will see how it goes.
But it has to go, because the husband needs to get out of this house and do some normal-type stuff. You know, put on his big boy clothes and go make some sales calls or something.
I asked the husband last night if there was any feeling of relief, getting the diagnosis for his mom. I didn't want to be offensive or anything, but I admit I feel some relief. Knowing that we were not facing 6 years of her failing health, both physically and mentally, makes this easier for me to handle. And I feel better for her. As someone who has a grandmother who is 101 and in a nursing home, who doesn't know who she is or who we are, I don't want to see my MIL go through that.
Is that selfish? It probably is on some level. But sometimes in life, you have to be a little selfish to survive.
MIL is doing ok. She keeps saying how good she feels. I think she is worried about when she might start to feel badly. What it will feel like as the disease progresses. We have promised her that with her doctors help, she would be pain free and not alone.
We are hiring someone to come in twice a week, to start, and help out. Not entirely sure how that is going to go over with them. FIL still feels he is capable of taking care of them both. The woman we spoke to was really nice. She kept telling us that all the things we don't have the time (or patience) to do, they will. Because that is what they are here for and it's what they do. He likes to cook? They will cook stuff with him, side by side. He likes to play cards, they'll play cards with him. They will listen to the stories that they haven't heard a thousand times before, like we have. When they asked what MIL likes to do, I said she likes to sit in front of the fire and watch TV. I felt like a bad mother who sits her kids in front of the TV all day!! But she likes her stories and since she isn't reading anymore, this is how she gets them. As a matter of fact, as we talked to this woman, it became increasingly apparent that he is the one who needs the supervision. He is the one who is always wanting to do something.
So as I said, we will see how it goes.
But it has to go, because the husband needs to get out of this house and do some normal-type stuff. You know, put on his big boy clothes and go make some sales calls or something.
I asked the husband last night if there was any feeling of relief, getting the diagnosis for his mom. I didn't want to be offensive or anything, but I admit I feel some relief. Knowing that we were not facing 6 years of her failing health, both physically and mentally, makes this easier for me to handle. And I feel better for her. As someone who has a grandmother who is 101 and in a nursing home, who doesn't know who she is or who we are, I don't want to see my MIL go through that.
Is that selfish? It probably is on some level. But sometimes in life, you have to be a little selfish to survive.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Hodgkins Lymphoma
We saw the oncologist today and MIL has been diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma. The doctor was wonderful. Very compassionate and very good at helping us to understand what we are dealing with. He explained that in a younger, stronger person, this type of cancer is highly treatable and curable. Unfortunately, given my mother-in-laws age and physical condition he does not feel that she could handle the months of chemotherapy that would be required. We agree and don't feel that it is necessary to put her through that. It comes down to quality of life over quantity.
She said she felt like she knew it was coming. My father-in-law, on the other hand is playing his same tune. If you eat enough, if you have a positive attitude, you can overcome anything. His determination is amazing! He has these feelings and his feeling is telling him she is going to be ok. So who am I to tell him that she isn't?
On the other hand, I get the feeling from my MIL that she really is trying to process this whole thing. I think she wants to go through the emotions of it. And he keeps shutting her down. So we are back to that conundrum. Who's rights or wishes are more important?
When my mother was sick, there were a lot of times that I wanted to ask her to go to Roswell Cancer Institute. I mean if you are lucky enough to live in a city that has one of the top cancer hospitals in the country, why would you go anywhere else? But she chose not to. She wanted to stick with the medical group she knew and was comfortable with. And she died.
Now, do I think that if she had gone to Roswell, she wouldn't have died? Of course not. Small cell lung cancer is fatal. Period.
But I wonder if it would have bought her more time. I wonder how things would have been different if I had spoken up and asked her more questions or talked more openly about what she was going through. But in the end, it was her choice.
When my brother in law was in hospice in Las Vegas, my husband was the only one to be there with him. He forbid his parents from coming out. They wanted to, but didn't because my husband told them not to. He felt his brothers wishes were more important. His brother was basically non-responsive and probably wouldn't have even known they were there. My husband said it would have been too hard on them to see him like that. But he was their son. Didn't they have a right to see him like that? And I don't buy the "I want them to remember him when he was healthy" statement. The memories I have of my mother, or my grandmother, or my brother in law are memories from a whole bunch of different times with that person. They are not only of the last time I saw them. So should they have gone? Should they have been allowed to see him and grieve over him and do whatever parents do when they are faced with the death of one of their children, even when that child is 50?
Who's wishes take precedence?
I think that we are in for a bumpy ride as we progress through this disease with my MIL. Mostly with how my FIL deals with it. I hope that she will be able to come to terms with it. To grieve her loss. To talk about it and cry about it, without being made to feel like she is giving up. And I hope my FIL can come to terms with it as well. Sixty one years is a long time to share your life with someone else.
She said she felt like she knew it was coming. My father-in-law, on the other hand is playing his same tune. If you eat enough, if you have a positive attitude, you can overcome anything. His determination is amazing! He has these feelings and his feeling is telling him she is going to be ok. So who am I to tell him that she isn't?
On the other hand, I get the feeling from my MIL that she really is trying to process this whole thing. I think she wants to go through the emotions of it. And he keeps shutting her down. So we are back to that conundrum. Who's rights or wishes are more important?
When my mother was sick, there were a lot of times that I wanted to ask her to go to Roswell Cancer Institute. I mean if you are lucky enough to live in a city that has one of the top cancer hospitals in the country, why would you go anywhere else? But she chose not to. She wanted to stick with the medical group she knew and was comfortable with. And she died.
Now, do I think that if she had gone to Roswell, she wouldn't have died? Of course not. Small cell lung cancer is fatal. Period.
But I wonder if it would have bought her more time. I wonder how things would have been different if I had spoken up and asked her more questions or talked more openly about what she was going through. But in the end, it was her choice.
When my brother in law was in hospice in Las Vegas, my husband was the only one to be there with him. He forbid his parents from coming out. They wanted to, but didn't because my husband told them not to. He felt his brothers wishes were more important. His brother was basically non-responsive and probably wouldn't have even known they were there. My husband said it would have been too hard on them to see him like that. But he was their son. Didn't they have a right to see him like that? And I don't buy the "I want them to remember him when he was healthy" statement. The memories I have of my mother, or my grandmother, or my brother in law are memories from a whole bunch of different times with that person. They are not only of the last time I saw them. So should they have gone? Should they have been allowed to see him and grieve over him and do whatever parents do when they are faced with the death of one of their children, even when that child is 50?
Who's wishes take precedence?
I think that we are in for a bumpy ride as we progress through this disease with my MIL. Mostly with how my FIL deals with it. I hope that she will be able to come to terms with it. To grieve her loss. To talk about it and cry about it, without being made to feel like she is giving up. And I hope my FIL can come to terms with it as well. Sixty one years is a long time to share your life with someone else.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Sunday
I sit here at the computer looking out on the gloomy, rainy day. As much as people complain about the weather in Buffalo, it does make you appreciate the spring, summer and fall. Of course I wish they lasted longer than 1/2 a year like winter seems to.
I do like the change in the seasons. I have never been a person that liked things the same all the time. I think I get some of that from my dad. He is always rearranging furniture and changing pictures that are hanging. I do that too. It makes it seem like a new room for no cost other than the a days work. Plus it gives me a chance to vacuum under the sofa!
I am drawing plans for a powder room. We lost the downstairs bathroom to the inlaws and it gets to be a pain to have to run upstairs every time you want to pee. The powder room will go where my washer and dryer are right now. So that means they need to move. More change! It's good, though. This house has gone through so many changes since we moved in. Walls went up and came down depending on where we needed a room. We've raised three kids in this house, plus all their friends. Housed my sister in law for a couple of years while she was getting back on her feet. And now Paul's parents. There have been home offices, pantry closets and coat closets that have all made room to become other areas. My father has a saying that "it is just like a Hollywood set". Things can change as you need them to.
Growing up we had a table saw in the dining room. We would finish dinner and then construction or destruction would start. It probably was in the dining room for 8 months, but it seemed like longer to me. I'm glad I grew up like that. Where things a little unsettled and messy. I think it has allowed me to be able to cope with things better. While I was going through chemo my mantra became "it is what it is". Not that I think you should lay down and let life run over you, but there are a lot of things that you have no control over. However you can control how you respond to them. I guess I have always felt that pitching a fit was a bad use of energy and it doesn't usually change anything anyway. So you roll with what life hands you and hopefully keep your head above water so you can see what is over the next wave.
I do like the change in the seasons. I have never been a person that liked things the same all the time. I think I get some of that from my dad. He is always rearranging furniture and changing pictures that are hanging. I do that too. It makes it seem like a new room for no cost other than the a days work. Plus it gives me a chance to vacuum under the sofa!
I am drawing plans for a powder room. We lost the downstairs bathroom to the inlaws and it gets to be a pain to have to run upstairs every time you want to pee. The powder room will go where my washer and dryer are right now. So that means they need to move. More change! It's good, though. This house has gone through so many changes since we moved in. Walls went up and came down depending on where we needed a room. We've raised three kids in this house, plus all their friends. Housed my sister in law for a couple of years while she was getting back on her feet. And now Paul's parents. There have been home offices, pantry closets and coat closets that have all made room to become other areas. My father has a saying that "it is just like a Hollywood set". Things can change as you need them to.
Growing up we had a table saw in the dining room. We would finish dinner and then construction or destruction would start. It probably was in the dining room for 8 months, but it seemed like longer to me. I'm glad I grew up like that. Where things a little unsettled and messy. I think it has allowed me to be able to cope with things better. While I was going through chemo my mantra became "it is what it is". Not that I think you should lay down and let life run over you, but there are a lot of things that you have no control over. However you can control how you respond to them. I guess I have always felt that pitching a fit was a bad use of energy and it doesn't usually change anything anyway. So you roll with what life hands you and hopefully keep your head above water so you can see what is over the next wave.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Control and other issues
So the FIL had a meltdown yesterday. He is railing against having no control in his life. As far as he is concerned, if he can no longer live on his own and own a car and a house he is as good as dead. Now that kind of reaction seems a little extreme to me. Here is a couple that for most of their lives, had things go pretty well. No major illnesses, no major tragedies. They travelled to Florida and Vegas and California. They pretty much lived life as they wanted to, with little regard to the consequences. Then Joe died. Then we moved them (read "stole") from their house. Then Jimmy died. Then he ran her over with the scooter and after a bout in rehab they ended up with us. From any perspective, the last year in particular has been pretty shitty. But if you can just pull back from it a little, the majority of it has been really good. Surrounded by family and good friends.
So, what causes the bitterness and despair? My father thinks that the closer you get to the end, the more magnified things become. So that things that you would have easily brushed off earlier in your life, become things you can't let go. I hope that it is not true for everyone. I would hate to end my life that way.
We had a funny conversation after dinner the other night. We asked them how they had met. Her mother used to buy groceries at the store on Grant Street. One day she brought Emma with her. When I asked her if it was love at first sight she said "No!" She thought he was arrogant and cocky. Although that didn't stop her from asking him to escort her to a dance. Of course that was after the guy she wanted to go with couldn't. So he did take her and then proceeded to fall asleep on a couch in the dance hall. She was so upset that she went home alone. We never did hear how they fell in love. He told a story about how he wanted to take her to the movies to see a cowboy picture and she didn't want to go. He told her that he would be there at 7 pm to pick her up and she better be ready to go. For some reason, she was! He took her to the show and just as she was beginning to enjoy it he said, ok lets go! I just wanted to prove that you should go! For all I am worth , I don't understand that mentality! It was a different time, I know, but still.
I am glad that my husband is not like that. I'd have to deck him.
On a side note, we were trying to find out who his favorite cowboy was. I found a great website that listed a lot of old cowboys, who played them, even what the name of their horses were. After naming off all the greats, Tex Ritter, John Wayne, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, I hit upon Randolph Scott. He finally agreed that he thought that was who it was. A real man's man.
After doing some research about him online, it turns out that he was rumored to have had an affair with Cary Grant! Yup! A real man's man! If you get a chance, look up his wiki sight. There is a beautiful picture of him and Cary Grant in the pool. Two more beautiful men, there never were!
So, what causes the bitterness and despair? My father thinks that the closer you get to the end, the more magnified things become. So that things that you would have easily brushed off earlier in your life, become things you can't let go. I hope that it is not true for everyone. I would hate to end my life that way.
We had a funny conversation after dinner the other night. We asked them how they had met. Her mother used to buy groceries at the store on Grant Street. One day she brought Emma with her. When I asked her if it was love at first sight she said "No!" She thought he was arrogant and cocky. Although that didn't stop her from asking him to escort her to a dance. Of course that was after the guy she wanted to go with couldn't. So he did take her and then proceeded to fall asleep on a couch in the dance hall. She was so upset that she went home alone. We never did hear how they fell in love. He told a story about how he wanted to take her to the movies to see a cowboy picture and she didn't want to go. He told her that he would be there at 7 pm to pick her up and she better be ready to go. For some reason, she was! He took her to the show and just as she was beginning to enjoy it he said, ok lets go! I just wanted to prove that you should go! For all I am worth , I don't understand that mentality! It was a different time, I know, but still.
I am glad that my husband is not like that. I'd have to deck him.
On a side note, we were trying to find out who his favorite cowboy was. I found a great website that listed a lot of old cowboys, who played them, even what the name of their horses were. After naming off all the greats, Tex Ritter, John Wayne, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, I hit upon Randolph Scott. He finally agreed that he thought that was who it was. A real man's man.
After doing some research about him online, it turns out that he was rumored to have had an affair with Cary Grant! Yup! A real man's man! If you get a chance, look up his wiki sight. There is a beautiful picture of him and Cary Grant in the pool. Two more beautiful men, there never were!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Back in pain
I woke up this morning and had a little twinge in my back. By the time I got to work, it was getting worse and within an hour of being there I couldn't breathe without being in pain. Every inhale, any odd movement, even just trying to sit still brought spasms of pain. After taking a mega naproxin and using an ice pack for a little while, it improved. But even as I sit here writing, I am still feeling little spasms. Sort of like a little nudge saying, "don't get too comfortable, I'm just a reach away from taking you out for the weekend!". It is exhausting, having back pain. You spend so much time trying to maintain a pain free position and it seems like the only way to do that is to tense up the rest of your body. It kind of makes you sick to your stomach. Not fun. And it has only lasted a few hours. My mother had years and years of back pain. How was she able to go on every day and not kill someone?
I got called into the inlaw's apartment an hour ago. My husband was having a conversation with his mother. My FIL was in the bathroom taking a shower. When asked who the man in the bathroom was, my MIL said she didn't know. When asked what about when he gets into bed with you? Do you know who he is then? She responded, no she didn't but she wished someone would tell her. I told her that it was her husband. Her reaction was interesting. She wasn't angry, she wasn't happy. She wasn't particularly sad. She pretty much took it at face value that we had told her the truth, although she didn't quite know what to do with the information. Needless to say, it is upsetting to my FIL. Although, atleast tonight, he was handling it pretty well. I wonder what is going through her mind when he climbs into bed with her every night. How sad he must be that his wife of 61 years, seemingly doesn't know who he is.
On another note, my girls are coming home tomorrow. It will be great seeing them. Ein is coming home, too. I have missed him not being here for 3 weeks. The house is so quiet. Of course, I haven't had to vacuum up a bunch of dog hair either. Just goes to show you, there is good and bad to everything.
I got called into the inlaw's apartment an hour ago. My husband was having a conversation with his mother. My FIL was in the bathroom taking a shower. When asked who the man in the bathroom was, my MIL said she didn't know. When asked what about when he gets into bed with you? Do you know who he is then? She responded, no she didn't but she wished someone would tell her. I told her that it was her husband. Her reaction was interesting. She wasn't angry, she wasn't happy. She wasn't particularly sad. She pretty much took it at face value that we had told her the truth, although she didn't quite know what to do with the information. Needless to say, it is upsetting to my FIL. Although, atleast tonight, he was handling it pretty well. I wonder what is going through her mind when he climbs into bed with her every night. How sad he must be that his wife of 61 years, seemingly doesn't know who he is.
On another note, my girls are coming home tomorrow. It will be great seeing them. Ein is coming home, too. I have missed him not being here for 3 weeks. The house is so quiet. Of course, I haven't had to vacuum up a bunch of dog hair either. Just goes to show you, there is good and bad to everything.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
thursday, again
It completely amazes me how fast time goes. When I was a little kid, I was sure that we had at least 6 months off for summer vacation. It sure seemed like it was that long. I remember the first time I realized that it was 2 months, I was floored. We were outside playing, every day. And it seemed to last forever. Now I hardly get to do anything besides work and time flies by.
The husband took his parents out for a drive today to get them out of the house. They are getting antsy. We are beginning to see that they were probably going to the grocery store all the time because they were bored. They spend a lot of time sleeping. I think because they don't have anything else to do to pass the time. I wish that we could find them something other than scratch-off's and the casino to occupy their time. She used to love to read, but now she can't concentrate long enough to read. She used to do ceramics, but now her hands are too shaky. And even if she wanted to do any of it, now, he wouldn't let her go. He is so controlling and needs to be within eye sight of her at all times. He has word searches that he likes to do. He has his scratch offs and the casino.
If for nothing else, this has made me realize that I need to get some hobbies. I will need to have something to do when time stops passing so quickly again!
The husband took his parents out for a drive today to get them out of the house. They are getting antsy. We are beginning to see that they were probably going to the grocery store all the time because they were bored. They spend a lot of time sleeping. I think because they don't have anything else to do to pass the time. I wish that we could find them something other than scratch-off's and the casino to occupy their time. She used to love to read, but now she can't concentrate long enough to read. She used to do ceramics, but now her hands are too shaky. And even if she wanted to do any of it, now, he wouldn't let her go. He is so controlling and needs to be within eye sight of her at all times. He has word searches that he likes to do. He has his scratch offs and the casino.
If for nothing else, this has made me realize that I need to get some hobbies. I will need to have something to do when time stops passing so quickly again!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
save the breasts
So they've been doing this thing on Facebook. Women are supposed to post the color of the bra they are wearing in their status. It is supposed to raise awareness about breast cancer. And it is also supposed to confuse men, which if you are a woman, you realize isn't really that hard to do. But that is neither here nor there. I posted the color of mine. It was grey. Not because I hadn't done laundry or anything. It's just grey. I wasn't really thinking about anything when I posted the color. I don't usually respond the the Farmville or heart requests, they don't interest me. But being a breast cancer survivor, I posted my status.
Then I read an article by a woman names Donna Trussell. She writes for Politics Daily. She made some interesting arguments as to why the whole campaign made her mad. One of her points is that she has friends who have battled the disease, who can no longer wear bras because they no longer have breasts. Now it may be a little short sighted to even remark about that. It was just a fun little thing that a bunch of women on Facebook wanted to do. No one, I'm sure set out to hurt the feelings of women who have suffered through this disease, of which I am one. Or to single out women who have lost their breast to it, which by God's grace I have not. In a country that has lots of freedom, we are pretty good at telling each other how we should or shouldn't do something as it might inflict hurt feelings on someone else. Most of the women I know are pretty strong individuals. Most do not take everything they hear or read personally. But I have on occasion, hurt someone I love with a flip remark or statement when I fail to realize the magnitude of the situation they are going through.
The other issue is the "pink" one. It does seem that everywhere you turn you can buy something with a pink ribbon on it. Socks and sweatshirts to gum and breath mints. Why is there so much recognition of and air time for the discussion of breast cancer and seemingly not of other cancers? I work with a girl who had ovarian cancer. I remember her saying to me that she felt left out of all the fundraising and awareness because her cancer wasn't as "popular" as breast cancer. At first I thought she was being kind of whiny. But the more you think about it, she has a point. And so is Donna Trussell. There shouldn't be a color for every cancer. It makes it seem like a competition. You play for the team your color / cancer dictates. It is not a game. It is a war. We should all be on the same side, fighting for the same outcome. Winning the battles that will ultimately help win the war. We shouldn't be fighting to save the breasts. We should be fighting to save the women. And the men, no matter how easy they are to confuse.
Then I read an article by a woman names Donna Trussell. She writes for Politics Daily. She made some interesting arguments as to why the whole campaign made her mad. One of her points is that she has friends who have battled the disease, who can no longer wear bras because they no longer have breasts. Now it may be a little short sighted to even remark about that. It was just a fun little thing that a bunch of women on Facebook wanted to do. No one, I'm sure set out to hurt the feelings of women who have suffered through this disease, of which I am one. Or to single out women who have lost their breast to it, which by God's grace I have not. In a country that has lots of freedom, we are pretty good at telling each other how we should or shouldn't do something as it might inflict hurt feelings on someone else. Most of the women I know are pretty strong individuals. Most do not take everything they hear or read personally. But I have on occasion, hurt someone I love with a flip remark or statement when I fail to realize the magnitude of the situation they are going through.
The other issue is the "pink" one. It does seem that everywhere you turn you can buy something with a pink ribbon on it. Socks and sweatshirts to gum and breath mints. Why is there so much recognition of and air time for the discussion of breast cancer and seemingly not of other cancers? I work with a girl who had ovarian cancer. I remember her saying to me that she felt left out of all the fundraising and awareness because her cancer wasn't as "popular" as breast cancer. At first I thought she was being kind of whiny. But the more you think about it, she has a point. And so is Donna Trussell. There shouldn't be a color for every cancer. It makes it seem like a competition. You play for the team your color / cancer dictates. It is not a game. It is a war. We should all be on the same side, fighting for the same outcome. Winning the battles that will ultimately help win the war. We shouldn't be fighting to save the breasts. We should be fighting to save the women. And the men, no matter how easy they are to confuse.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Train part two
So I'm on another train. This time heading home alone.
#2 daughter was supposed to come home with me but
she opted to stay one more week with her older sister.
I love that they are such good friends and that they love
spending time together.
But as I sit here, I feel like I've lost something. I am so
proud of the both of them. They are talented and smart
and funny. It was wonderful seeing them both shine. So
why am I about to cry? They don't need me anymore.
I'm feeling vaguely the same way I did when we left my
son at university. Driving away, watching him disappear
into the crowd, I couldn't help thinking I wasn't done being
his mother yet. I kept thinking that there was some truly
important life lesson that I had forgotten to teach him. Like
look both ways before crossing the street or not to take
candy from strangers. And how was he going to get along
without me? The real question was how was I going to get
along without him.
You put all this time and energy and sweat and tears into
raising your kids. You yell at them and laugh with them and
cry about them. You hope that they will grow up and become
capable adults. So why am I feeling sad that they are?
I guess even though it is what is supposed to happen, it's
still kind of a loss. So maybe that is why I want to cry.
Or maybe I'm just going to get my period.
#2 daughter was supposed to come home with me but
she opted to stay one more week with her older sister.
I love that they are such good friends and that they love
spending time together.
But as I sit here, I feel like I've lost something. I am so
proud of the both of them. They are talented and smart
and funny. It was wonderful seeing them both shine. So
why am I about to cry? They don't need me anymore.
I'm feeling vaguely the same way I did when we left my
son at university. Driving away, watching him disappear
into the crowd, I couldn't help thinking I wasn't done being
his mother yet. I kept thinking that there was some truly
important life lesson that I had forgotten to teach him. Like
look both ways before crossing the street or not to take
candy from strangers. And how was he going to get along
without me? The real question was how was I going to get
along without him.
You put all this time and energy and sweat and tears into
raising your kids. You yell at them and laugh with them and
cry about them. You hope that they will grow up and become
capable adults. So why am I feeling sad that they are?
I guess even though it is what is supposed to happen, it's
still kind of a loss. So maybe that is why I want to cry.
Or maybe I'm just going to get my period.
the train
Took the train out to Albany yesterday. Why haven't I taken the train before?? What a great way to travel. No having to be there 3 hours in advance. None of the anxiety of airplane travel. The seats were nice and big and the scenery was beautiful. Plus lots of time to think, reflect, contemplate etc. Wish I had a laptop. I could have done so much more!!
It is wonderful to spend time with my daughters. But a little sad as well. We have always been the house where our kids and their friends have come to spend time. So I have always felt part of the inner circle of their lives. But being here, in my daughters house, with her friends....I felt like an outsider. Not that I was treated like that. I was welcomed with open arms by her and all of her friends. But there were all of these inside jokes going around. Talk about upcoming plans and past experiences. And I wasn't privy to any of it. It is very strange. And as I said to the girls as we talked about it this morning, it isn't a bad thing. It is really what most people experience much earlier with their kids. So I should be grateful for the extra time that I had it.
I guess it just adds to the weirdness that is my life right now. And after years of saying how much I was looking forward to the kids being gone and having the house to myself, I guess I realize now that although I will enjoy parts of it. I will miss, terribly, other parts. Boy, you are never too old to learn a lesson, are you?
It is wonderful to spend time with my daughters. But a little sad as well. We have always been the house where our kids and their friends have come to spend time. So I have always felt part of the inner circle of their lives. But being here, in my daughters house, with her friends....I felt like an outsider. Not that I was treated like that. I was welcomed with open arms by her and all of her friends. But there were all of these inside jokes going around. Talk about upcoming plans and past experiences. And I wasn't privy to any of it. It is very strange. And as I said to the girls as we talked about it this morning, it isn't a bad thing. It is really what most people experience much earlier with their kids. So I should be grateful for the extra time that I had it.
I guess it just adds to the weirdness that is my life right now. And after years of saying how much I was looking forward to the kids being gone and having the house to myself, I guess I realize now that although I will enjoy parts of it. I will miss, terribly, other parts. Boy, you are never too old to learn a lesson, are you?
Friday, January 8, 2010
friday
I am heading out to the Albany area to see my daughter in a play that is being directed by my other daughter. I remember having these kids and it didn't seem that long ago! Most of the time I don't feel much older than I did when I was first married. But then I turn around and I see these grown up kids I have and I wonder where the time went.
When they were young, I had a girlfriend I would call every morning. It was how I started my day. It gave me another adult to talk to and complain to and ask advice of. It helped get me through those trying times. Even though we weren't discovering the cure for cancer, we were mostly complaining about our husbands, it was a very special time.
I often think we fail to realize the importance of having other people in our lives we can commune with. I especially think this is true for men.
I have been blessed, that throughout my life I have had friends to see me through. Groups that have been crucial at certain times. Some that have lasted longer and a select few that have been there from the beginning. I am grateful for the friendships I have had, do have and will have. I hope that I will never take them for granted. This thing called life is hard enough to go through. It would be impossible without friends.
So to all of mine, I thank you for being there through thick and thin (more thick lately!). I appreciate your wisdom, your listening ear, your good advice, good food, good laughs and mostly your prayers.
On a lighter note, my MIL told my other half that she was supposed to go up on the space shuttle the other day. She seemed very perturbed that they would leave without her. He told her that as soon as she was strong enough, she could go up!
Things that make you go hmmmmm......
When they were young, I had a girlfriend I would call every morning. It was how I started my day. It gave me another adult to talk to and complain to and ask advice of. It helped get me through those trying times. Even though we weren't discovering the cure for cancer, we were mostly complaining about our husbands, it was a very special time.
I often think we fail to realize the importance of having other people in our lives we can commune with. I especially think this is true for men.
I have been blessed, that throughout my life I have had friends to see me through. Groups that have been crucial at certain times. Some that have lasted longer and a select few that have been there from the beginning. I am grateful for the friendships I have had, do have and will have. I hope that I will never take them for granted. This thing called life is hard enough to go through. It would be impossible without friends.
So to all of mine, I thank you for being there through thick and thin (more thick lately!). I appreciate your wisdom, your listening ear, your good advice, good food, good laughs and mostly your prayers.
On a lighter note, my MIL told my other half that she was supposed to go up on the space shuttle the other day. She seemed very perturbed that they would leave without her. He told her that as soon as she was strong enough, she could go up!
Things that make you go hmmmmm......
Thursday, January 7, 2010
thursday
It's coming up on the 6th anniversary of my mom's death. She was a beautiful, intelligent, strong woman, who's life ended too soon. There are times when I can't believe she is gone and other times when it seems like she has been gone forever.
We have had a lot of death in our family over the past few years. My mother, my aunt, our dog, Paul's brothers and uncle. It is remarkable how someone can be here one minute and then not be here the next. I was with my mother when she passed away. I feel it was a great privilege to be there. There was something sacred about it. She was there when I took my first breath and I was there when she took her last.
I miss her. I wish that she was here now while we are going through all this stuff with the inlaws. I wish she was here to see my kids as they get older and move on with their lives. I would love to be able to ask her advice about all the stuff I am going through. I wished I had asked her more of that when she was alive.
So the lesson for today is, don't take today for granted. Tell the people that you love how special they are to you. Ask advice. Share a story. Listen. Listen before you realize that you can't.
We have had a lot of death in our family over the past few years. My mother, my aunt, our dog, Paul's brothers and uncle. It is remarkable how someone can be here one minute and then not be here the next. I was with my mother when she passed away. I feel it was a great privilege to be there. There was something sacred about it. She was there when I took my first breath and I was there when she took her last.
I miss her. I wish that she was here now while we are going through all this stuff with the inlaws. I wish she was here to see my kids as they get older and move on with their lives. I would love to be able to ask her advice about all the stuff I am going through. I wished I had asked her more of that when she was alive.
So the lesson for today is, don't take today for granted. Tell the people that you love how special they are to you. Ask advice. Share a story. Listen. Listen before you realize that you can't.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
dedication
My husband just sent me a picture. It is of my FIL sitting in a chair next the the bed where my MIL lies sleeping. It is during the day. She sleeps a lot, lately. And he sits by her side. The only thing that matters to him is that she is breathing, that she eats and that when she sees him, she smiles. With that he is happy.
My FIL has always been kind of controlling and stubborn. He will say that whatever she wants she can have. But a lot of those wants have come with heavy pricetags. She always had new furniture. But he was the one to pick it out. And if it needed to be sold, because it happened to be a store sample (he worked in a furniture store) so be it! Even if people were sitting on it at the time. Or watching cartoons on the television. If he sold the TV, it went. No questions asked. I guess I have always gotten the feeling from him that he believes that he knows best and there is no question about that. So sometimes I have been frustrated by him and how he treats her. But then I look at that picture and it changes my feelings. Not that I think that anyone should live under someone elses thumb. Don't get me wrong. But in a world where marriages are failing left and right, to see a couple who have been each others world for 60 years, well, it leaves me a little choked up.
When all you need to make you happy is seeing your spouse breath, eat and smile, I think you have to take that as a lesson in this busy, complicated world. Well that and an occasional scratch-off.
My FIL has always been kind of controlling and stubborn. He will say that whatever she wants she can have. But a lot of those wants have come with heavy pricetags. She always had new furniture. But he was the one to pick it out. And if it needed to be sold, because it happened to be a store sample (he worked in a furniture store) so be it! Even if people were sitting on it at the time. Or watching cartoons on the television. If he sold the TV, it went. No questions asked. I guess I have always gotten the feeling from him that he believes that he knows best and there is no question about that. So sometimes I have been frustrated by him and how he treats her. But then I look at that picture and it changes my feelings. Not that I think that anyone should live under someone elses thumb. Don't get me wrong. But in a world where marriages are failing left and right, to see a couple who have been each others world for 60 years, well, it leaves me a little choked up.
When all you need to make you happy is seeing your spouse breath, eat and smile, I think you have to take that as a lesson in this busy, complicated world. Well that and an occasional scratch-off.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Scooter
About 2 months ago, my father-in-law (from this point known as FIL) ran over my mother-in-law (MIL) with his scooter. He has a scooter because when he enlisted into the army way back when, he was injured. He broke his ankle and to fix it the army screwed it back together with plates and screws. He broke it, not in combat, but in the obstacle course. And I believe there was alcohol involved. Think whatever you want, them's the facts.
So the VA gives him a scooter, as a walker wouldn't help him when his ankle gave out. He's scooting around on it. Crossing four lanes of traffic to go to the grocery store for scratch-offs and other necessary items. Running over people's toes in the hallways. We joke that he should get a side car for my MIL to ride in. He was pretty good with it. He did leave some marks on the walls of their apartment, backing it in and out. But overall he was ok. Until the "incident". They were either coming back from or heading down to the laundry facility in their building. They were either coming out of or going into the elevator. The details are a little fuzzy. But the jist of the story is that he ran into her causing her to fall down and hit her head. When he tells the story, he says that he can still hear her screaming. Interestingly though, he doesn't take responsibility for the hit. It is now the VA's fault for giving him the scooter in the first place. It is interesting how the mind works as we get older!
MIL ends up in the hospital and from there rehab at a nursing home. For a month. Each day we wake to find my FIL, dressed and sitting up in a chair, in the dark, in the living room where he has been since 4am, waiting to be taken to the nursing home. There he spends the day with is wife. Sitting by her side and helping her eat her meals. By helping, I mean eating what she does not want to. That man will eat whatever you put in front of him. It's amazing. He's like a bottomless pit.
After a month in rehab, she comes home to our house. He is happy, she is finally with him. We are happy(?). It has certainly cut down on our daily running around. But now they are in our house. And that presents it's own set of problems.
So the VA gives him a scooter, as a walker wouldn't help him when his ankle gave out. He's scooting around on it. Crossing four lanes of traffic to go to the grocery store for scratch-offs and other necessary items. Running over people's toes in the hallways. We joke that he should get a side car for my MIL to ride in. He was pretty good with it. He did leave some marks on the walls of their apartment, backing it in and out. But overall he was ok. Until the "incident". They were either coming back from or heading down to the laundry facility in their building. They were either coming out of or going into the elevator. The details are a little fuzzy. But the jist of the story is that he ran into her causing her to fall down and hit her head. When he tells the story, he says that he can still hear her screaming. Interestingly though, he doesn't take responsibility for the hit. It is now the VA's fault for giving him the scooter in the first place. It is interesting how the mind works as we get older!
MIL ends up in the hospital and from there rehab at a nursing home. For a month. Each day we wake to find my FIL, dressed and sitting up in a chair, in the dark, in the living room where he has been since 4am, waiting to be taken to the nursing home. There he spends the day with is wife. Sitting by her side and helping her eat her meals. By helping, I mean eating what she does not want to. That man will eat whatever you put in front of him. It's amazing. He's like a bottomless pit.
After a month in rehab, she comes home to our house. He is happy, she is finally with him. We are happy(?). It has certainly cut down on our daily running around. But now they are in our house. And that presents it's own set of problems.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Chapter 1
After going through a bunch of crap in the past five years, I have decided that I should start writing stuff down.
Even if it is only on virtual paper.
When I was first married, my husband told me that he would never put his parents into a nursing home. It is one of those statements that you kind of gloss over when you are a newlywed. Like "don't ever ask me about my business". Having come from a waspy family and marrying into an Italian family, this was all new to me. At 20 you don't really pay much attention to those kind of statements. You are young and life goes on forever, right?
Well I'm here to tell you that time flies by! And before you know it you are faced with that statement again. Only this time, you aren't 20 and your parents (or in this case, in-laws) are in their 80's and it is something you can't just gloss over. Although I was tempted several times to tell my husband no, in December we moved my 83 year old mother-in-law and my 86 year old father-in-law into our home.
What am I thinking? I haven't even gotten rid of my kids yet!
Even if it is only on virtual paper.
When I was first married, my husband told me that he would never put his parents into a nursing home. It is one of those statements that you kind of gloss over when you are a newlywed. Like "don't ever ask me about my business". Having come from a waspy family and marrying into an Italian family, this was all new to me. At 20 you don't really pay much attention to those kind of statements. You are young and life goes on forever, right?
Well I'm here to tell you that time flies by! And before you know it you are faced with that statement again. Only this time, you aren't 20 and your parents (or in this case, in-laws) are in their 80's and it is something you can't just gloss over. Although I was tempted several times to tell my husband no, in December we moved my 83 year old mother-in-law and my 86 year old father-in-law into our home.
What am I thinking? I haven't even gotten rid of my kids yet!
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