Well, once again I’ve managed to let a few weeks pass by with out keeping up on this blog. Yeah it’s a case of every day life getting in the way of my writing life. However I’v come the conclusion that this blog is my therapy…it’s my journal of my ups and downs as a writer and a person. It’s here that I am free to put my thoughts; it’s here that I can face my demon’s, say what I need to say, and be okay with that. (It’s also here that ya’ll can read and think…”what an F’ed up way of thinking,” or “Wow you got some real issues… or maybe just maybe some of you can understand and sympathize with me…who knows.)
Anyway…this past week has be…hectic…yeah that’s the word I’ll use. H.J. the love of my life had once again volunteered to head a fund raiser, which meant (cuz I adore her,) that I’m running around helping her and buzzing from task to task with out finishing one before starting another. Hmm maybe there’s a pattern there, that’s how I clean house too… SEE I told you I have issues!) Well the fund raiser is over with, not as much funds raised as we’d hoped but I suppose that’s how it goes sometimes.
To say that I’m one tired butch at the moment would be an understatement, but I’m proud of the work that we did, and of H.J.
I wish I could say that this week was going to be an easy one, but it’s not looking like it. My emotions are running on high, and the roller-coaster is off again. The good, the bad…it’s all the makings for one hell of a week. The good is this…a few weeks ago I was asked to help someone write her memoirs. Talk about an honor and added pressure…lol, I mean what if I totally screw this up and this amazing woman’s history is totally misrepresented or something?? It could happen….anyway that’s a big deal to me, I’m nervous about it… just tell me it’s gonna be alright and I’ll do a fantastic job. (Humor me!)
The down side of this roller-coaster is the dealing with elderly relatives. It’s so hard watching the ups and downs and facing the inevitable…the wondering if “Is this the event that’s the end” “Is this good-bye”, and once that happens, how long before I have to say good-bye to the other half of this couple that have a giant place in my heart, and played a huge roll in my life?
I know that often times when one person dies, it isn’t long after that the other follows, it’s not always the case true, but with a couple that has spent fifty odd years together, taking care of each other…being taken care of…providing care for and surviving the death their child; it’s hard to imagine one going on long with out the other. Is there a time this gets easier?
This morning I got the news that morphine is being given, for me this indicates that it won’t be long. My heart hurts because I don’t want this to be the end, and something tells me that it is.
I am grateful that my anger and frustration has passed, that now I can see them and not feel anger or resentment but have the good thoughts and memories of my childhood flash in my heart and mind. Memories that I had long forgotten have begun to resurface and with them the adoration of a child for their Aunt and Uncle. Gone are all the disillusions that come from realizing that these people are human and not perfect. I am no longer angry that they fall off of that pedestal I placed them on when I was a five year old. They were always imperfect, it was only in my eyes that they walked on water…they never asked for that and it was wrong of me to punish them it.
I now remember the Uncle that took me out when I was five years old on a gray snowy evening days before Christmas for an early present, (it also happens to be one of my clearest memories of my mom being mad at me.) He told me to get whatever I wanted, and well me being me, I choose a TONKA TRUCK…it made more sense to me than some doll I would never play with. (Which is exactly what my mom wanted me to pick.) I can now clearly remember as a young child of 4-5 running for my life into their house, straight through the kitchen and into their bedroom to hid under the blankets because my mom wanted to brush my hair. I remember my Aunt telling my mom to go back home, that she would get my hair combed and send me back to my mom…and she did. WITH the explanation that running away from my mother was not ever acceptable behavior and that I needed to walk my little happy ass back to mom and apologize and that I couldn’t go back to see her until the next day. I remember being heartbroken…
It is now two days since I started this post, and in my heart I know the end is drawing closer. She has been unresponsive since yesterday, and I take comfort in that I know the last words she said to my sister and I were I love you, I know she heard our words of love to her…and I keep reassuring her each time I see her that if she is ready to leave us that she can. I know she is worried about what will become of my Uncle, and she need not be, I told her that he would be taken care of, that the man she spent her life making a home with and taking of their son with, would still have someone that will see to him and take care of him. I felt her sign, I understand she had a quiet night and was more relaxed; and at the end of the day that is the greatest comfort I can take with me.
I know these next few days will not be easy ones for any of her family, of which she has plenty, we will be angry at the circumstances, and we will laugh at the memories and we will mourn her, when that time comes. But in every thing we will also know that she would not want us to grieve so long that we forget what is important…to live life and enjoy it, to stop once in a while and actually see the beauty that is around us, and to maybe once in a while remember her with a warm smile and know she is with her son. And I will, at some point I know, even as realize I will never again hear her laugh or eat her spaghetti. Mi Tia, I hope you know that the lessons you taught me are being remembered, and that the hole in my heart is and will continue to be filled with precious memories that warm that same heart. I love you.