It's 21:47 p.m. on a day that I was awake way too early.... My first alarm went off at 04:00 a.m. this morning.... I felt cheerful, as I honestly normally do most mornings.... If I wake up, and my husband is home, and my dog is in my bed and my kids are both alive and breathing, I can say, I honestly feel so thankful to be alive.... I think my husband might even agree with me on this one.... I am cheerful in the mornings. He usually says that I'm too cheerful.... I'll take that. I'll take that over being a grumpy old whatever, any day.....
Anyway....
Can I jump into my overload of thoughts and emotions tonight?? I know, I know.... I didn't ever finish the story about the "caretaker" and such.... Truth be told, it's because it is still an ongoing issue and investigation.... I didn't really think that much would come of the investigation, only because the investigator was pretty straight-forward with the social worker and letting us know that we would REALLY have to have some SUPER strong evidence that this "Caretaker" was doing this maliciously, because chances are/were that she would use the whole "he said/she said" thing, and when the District Attorney stands before a jury, they will need to prove beyond a reasonable doubt, that this person KNEW they were committing a crime.... The most awful part is that the investigator literally says to me, "Both you and I KNOW that what this woman did was a crime and intentional, but we have to be able to prove this to a jury.... without a reasonable doubt..... it can't be he said/she said.... this woman KNOWS what she is doing..... and it makes it sooo hard for us.... You can't even imagine how many cases we get like this every single day...."
Those words literally made me SICK to my stomach!!!! The investigator FINALLY contacted me after almost one whole year to catch up on this case with me.... This woman has since left the United States for the Philippines, stayed away for some time, come back and visited Las Vegas and slowly made her way back to Orange County again....
There are several different Facebook pages that she actively uses....
Okay, let me disconnect from that emotional connection tonight because it upsets me to my core.... I can't even begin to explain to you guys what it does to me.... It is awful.... It makes me feel SO incredibly helpless and hopeless because SOOOOO many senior citizens out there fall VICTIM to these people!!! These sickening people, just waiting to prey on vulnerable elderly folks....
This investigation is still active because there is still new info coming in, ALMOST one year later....
Tomorrow....
Tomorrow is Thursday, September 8th, 2016.... Tomorrow is exactly 1 month from her official diagnosis from her neurologist..... Alzheimer's has set in.... This horrific disease that we've only heard about and seen in movies has decided to disrupt our lives....
I sat there in the neurologist's office for an hour and a half with her.... I was still in my scrubs.... We all should have known this was coming, but it still hit me like a ton of bricks.... It felt like a blow that took my breath away.... I heard the first sentence and the rest felt like a blur....
He asked her the year.... She had no idea....
He asked her the month.... She had no idea....
He asked her the year of her birth.... Again, she had no idea....
It felt like blow after blow after blow....
I sat there, crossing fingers in my head....
cheering her on in my mind....
"Come oooonnnnn..... you know this!!!! I KNOW you know this....."
and yet, the answer, furthest from reality, just spewed from her lips....
It just felt like blow after blow....
That's the only way I know how to describe the pain.... blow after blow after blow....
.......
Yet, there she was sitting next to me....
Completely clueless as to what's going on....
She looks up at me and smiles and, fighting back the tears, I smile back at her.....
She says, "Well.... I guess that's all, huh? I'm in good health....?? Just my thyroid.... that's it!"
I smile back.... I turned to my right to quickly wipe the tears from my eyes....
I turned back and said smiled again.... She was holding on to my hand....
She looks at the dr and says, "I'm so lucky to have this friend."
And literally, he smiles back at her and says, "You really are...."
She has absolutely NO idea that her whole world is about to be rocked....
Even if she DID know.... She would just as soon forget....
But just as soon as she'd forget, I would not...
My heart continues to break....
Tomorrow is 1 month, exactly, since she was diagnosed....
1 month exactly for me to process it all....
To contact the one and only living sibling in another country with an interpreter.....
1 month to try to figure out everything that has been done and everything that still needs to be done....
1 month to process that there is not another soul on this planet who wants nothing more from her than for her to be well.... for her final wishes to be granted... and her to keep all that is hers.... and designate it accordingly (her wishes are for her money to go to a children's charity.... one where children who have nothing may have something because of her donation).... I vow to help her dreams come true....
A situation that has brought tears to my eyes and conflict in my heart because I fear the time it will take to ensure her wishes are granted....
I fear the time it may take away from my family and loved ones....
But the sense of peace comes from knowing that my heart will not rest easy without doing this much....
I wish I could care less than I do, but that isn't the case....
I wish I could wash my hands clean of many other things, but I just can't....
That isn't the case....
That isn't me....
I am very s.l.o.w.l.y. coming to terms with accepting the depths in which I care....
I was given this heart for a reason....
I can only hope it changes a life in my lifetime....
To be continued....
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Caretakers don't always take care.... Part 2.
I can remember the exact seat I was sitting in when I knew we needed to move.... Mom, half-joking, asks me if I remember moving up to the edge of my seat and grabbing my backpack and purse and saying, "I'm going. We need to go now. Mom, we need to go there now." I do remember that.... I think that's part of having an empathetic and A.D.D. heart (and mind).... everything feels equally important.... but this.... THIS really did feel like if we didn't act damn near immediately, that something more horrible was going to happen....
Mom asked what I thought we should or could do, and I didn't know.... In fact, I really had no idea.... We were waiting to get the call from the doctor regarding Poppa's surgery and how it turned out.... I sat on the edge of my seat, anxiety twice as high now....
Mom and I were able to go up to Poppa's room and Jason had called me shortly after, letting me know he was on his way to the hospital with the kids. "Let's get dinner," he'd said....
I couldn't think about food. I couldn't think about anything but going to Grammy's and Friend's apartment.... Some time passed. Jason and the kids came upstairs to see Poppa and we figured we'd better get out of there for the night.... We left the hospital and headed to a small shopping center with a bunch of small places to eat.... I honestly can't even remember where we picked, but somewhere quick and easy... We sat down, inside, to eat.... I'm pretty sure I let Lewie play on my phone to distract him and Taylor had a hint about what was going on.... I'd told Jason what was going on and how I felt like "we" needed to do something. He asked what I thought we needed to do, and I still hadn't any idea, just that "we" (pretty generalized), needed to do something.... aaaaaaand, he actually agreed.... He said, "It sounds like all signs are pointing in that direction."
....
We drove home in our separate cars.... Of course, my mind racing at what I could do... what could be done at this point? ....
It was Wednesday night.... tucked the kiddos in and took my contacts out.... I got in bed and plugged my charger in, but who was I kidding? I knew good and well sleeping was not going to happen anytime soon....
I grabbed my phone, my charger, and my water and glasses and came back out into the dark living room. I left the small entry light on and came and sat on the loveseat.... I sat there for some time and played and replayed all of these different ideas and scenarios out in my head.... A million questions ran through my mind.... "What if this woman has been legally added to Friend's lease? What if this woman has had Friend sign crazy documents like an Advanced Health Care Directive or a Durable Power of Attorney? or what if this woman is legally on all of Friend's accounts and if I step in, there will be absolutely NOTHING I can do because this woman has already been "legally" added to everything?" It was scary! I was scared! I had NO idea what part of any of this could or would be true, but I had a feeling that there was a good chance. I'd sat there, imagining rallying some troops together and heading down there the very next morning.... I'd imagined a well, thought-out plan, executing perfectly.... and then a few, short moments later, I'd imagined it all backfiring.... I was so torn....
The clock neared 10-11 p.m. I'd been texting back and forth with my dear cousin.... She was the first one that came to mind when I'd imagined intervening somehow.... We are usually on the same wavelength with a lot of things.... We both have a pretty empathetic heart.... aaaaand, immediately, she was in.... We both knew that all of this wasn't right.... I'd reached out to my sister, because she usually spent quite a bit of time with my grandma, or was, at least in touch with her often. I'd wondered what she knew or what she thought about it all.... She had no idea about any of it, but was just as worked up as both cousin and I.... She agreed she could meet us there the next morning. So we'd agreed to meet the next morning. I'd had some time between dropping the kids off and meeting them at Gram's apartment. Gram didn't even know we were going to be coming.
After dropping off both kiddos, I'd made a quick run by Trader Joe's to pick up flowers and a card to make this visit seem as "genuine" as possible. I didn't want "Caretaker" to know that we were on to her, because IF she happened to be Durable Power of Attorney or was added to Friend's bank account or the lease or anything else and she felt like we were on to her, she might wipe Friend out and bail.... There had to be strategy behind this.... Cousin and sister both knew the plan.... we. were. ready....
Showed up to Grammy's with flowers and a card. She was surprised to see all of us.... Then she wondered why we were there.... That was when I'd told her that we needed to intervene. If we didn't do something, it was only going to get worse. We'd let Grammy in on the plan. We were all 4 going to go down to Friend's apartment with flowers and card..... We would knock and when someone answered, we would act like we were wanting to stop in and visit and see how Friend was doing and tell her that we missed her since we hadn't seen her for a bit, and that we were worried because Grammy had been trying to contact Friend and wasn't able to speak with her....
Grammy was very hesitant.... She was thinking that "Caretaker" was such a nice person.... We could all feel her hesitation, but we insisted.... and she obliged....
Downstairs we went to the 2nd floor....
Sister put her ear to the door. Inside, we could hear television and we could hear "Caretaker" talking to someone on speaker phone, but we couldn't hear specifics.... Looking down the hall, I could see Mr. Maintenance Man standing at the door, looking in at us. It was very apparent, he knew we were there and he was scouting the scene.... I quickly tapped Sister and told her to just knock on the door.... that Mr. Maintenance Man was watching from outside, down the hall. She covered the peek hole and knocked.... "Caretaker" answered the door.... "Awesome!" I thought.... That was one of my fears.... that she might not answer the door.... but she did and there was Friend..... hunched over and walking slowly out of the bedroom, as if coming out to see what was going on.... She didn't look ANYTHING like we'd always seen her.... She usually had her hair colored and fixed up, some make up on, and accessorized with some cute necklace or scarf.... This was not the case.... She looked so frail.... 2" of gray roots, grown out.... her hair lying flat, looking so lifeless.... She was walking hunched over, barely dragging her feet with each step.... This was not the Friend we knew....
"Ohhhh look! You have 4 beautiful women visitors!" Caretaker says, loudly.... still having her phone mate on speaker.... In another language, "Caretaker" must have said that she needed to go or would phone her friend back later, because she ended up hanging up shortly after. "Caretaker" greeted us with such joy and smiles, speaking loudly the entire time...
We all chatted briefly.... "Friend, we brought you flowers and a card and wanted to see how you were doing! We miss you! How are you doing?"
Friend says, "Ohhhh, I'm doing fine.... getting better...."
Her face looked so hopeless.... We knew this wasn't right....
to be continued....
Mom asked what I thought we should or could do, and I didn't know.... In fact, I really had no idea.... We were waiting to get the call from the doctor regarding Poppa's surgery and how it turned out.... I sat on the edge of my seat, anxiety twice as high now....
Mom and I were able to go up to Poppa's room and Jason had called me shortly after, letting me know he was on his way to the hospital with the kids. "Let's get dinner," he'd said....
I couldn't think about food. I couldn't think about anything but going to Grammy's and Friend's apartment.... Some time passed. Jason and the kids came upstairs to see Poppa and we figured we'd better get out of there for the night.... We left the hospital and headed to a small shopping center with a bunch of small places to eat.... I honestly can't even remember where we picked, but somewhere quick and easy... We sat down, inside, to eat.... I'm pretty sure I let Lewie play on my phone to distract him and Taylor had a hint about what was going on.... I'd told Jason what was going on and how I felt like "we" needed to do something. He asked what I thought we needed to do, and I still hadn't any idea, just that "we" (pretty generalized), needed to do something.... aaaaaaand, he actually agreed.... He said, "It sounds like all signs are pointing in that direction."
....
We drove home in our separate cars.... Of course, my mind racing at what I could do... what could be done at this point? ....
It was Wednesday night.... tucked the kiddos in and took my contacts out.... I got in bed and plugged my charger in, but who was I kidding? I knew good and well sleeping was not going to happen anytime soon....
I grabbed my phone, my charger, and my water and glasses and came back out into the dark living room. I left the small entry light on and came and sat on the loveseat.... I sat there for some time and played and replayed all of these different ideas and scenarios out in my head.... A million questions ran through my mind.... "What if this woman has been legally added to Friend's lease? What if this woman has had Friend sign crazy documents like an Advanced Health Care Directive or a Durable Power of Attorney? or what if this woman is legally on all of Friend's accounts and if I step in, there will be absolutely NOTHING I can do because this woman has already been "legally" added to everything?" It was scary! I was scared! I had NO idea what part of any of this could or would be true, but I had a feeling that there was a good chance. I'd sat there, imagining rallying some troops together and heading down there the very next morning.... I'd imagined a well, thought-out plan, executing perfectly.... and then a few, short moments later, I'd imagined it all backfiring.... I was so torn....
The clock neared 10-11 p.m. I'd been texting back and forth with my dear cousin.... She was the first one that came to mind when I'd imagined intervening somehow.... We are usually on the same wavelength with a lot of things.... We both have a pretty empathetic heart.... aaaaand, immediately, she was in.... We both knew that all of this wasn't right.... I'd reached out to my sister, because she usually spent quite a bit of time with my grandma, or was, at least in touch with her often. I'd wondered what she knew or what she thought about it all.... She had no idea about any of it, but was just as worked up as both cousin and I.... She agreed she could meet us there the next morning. So we'd agreed to meet the next morning. I'd had some time between dropping the kids off and meeting them at Gram's apartment. Gram didn't even know we were going to be coming.
After dropping off both kiddos, I'd made a quick run by Trader Joe's to pick up flowers and a card to make this visit seem as "genuine" as possible. I didn't want "Caretaker" to know that we were on to her, because IF she happened to be Durable Power of Attorney or was added to Friend's bank account or the lease or anything else and she felt like we were on to her, she might wipe Friend out and bail.... There had to be strategy behind this.... Cousin and sister both knew the plan.... we. were. ready....
Showed up to Grammy's with flowers and a card. She was surprised to see all of us.... Then she wondered why we were there.... That was when I'd told her that we needed to intervene. If we didn't do something, it was only going to get worse. We'd let Grammy in on the plan. We were all 4 going to go down to Friend's apartment with flowers and card..... We would knock and when someone answered, we would act like we were wanting to stop in and visit and see how Friend was doing and tell her that we missed her since we hadn't seen her for a bit, and that we were worried because Grammy had been trying to contact Friend and wasn't able to speak with her....
Grammy was very hesitant.... She was thinking that "Caretaker" was such a nice person.... We could all feel her hesitation, but we insisted.... and she obliged....
Downstairs we went to the 2nd floor....
Sister put her ear to the door. Inside, we could hear television and we could hear "Caretaker" talking to someone on speaker phone, but we couldn't hear specifics.... Looking down the hall, I could see Mr. Maintenance Man standing at the door, looking in at us. It was very apparent, he knew we were there and he was scouting the scene.... I quickly tapped Sister and told her to just knock on the door.... that Mr. Maintenance Man was watching from outside, down the hall. She covered the peek hole and knocked.... "Caretaker" answered the door.... "Awesome!" I thought.... That was one of my fears.... that she might not answer the door.... but she did and there was Friend..... hunched over and walking slowly out of the bedroom, as if coming out to see what was going on.... She didn't look ANYTHING like we'd always seen her.... She usually had her hair colored and fixed up, some make up on, and accessorized with some cute necklace or scarf.... This was not the case.... She looked so frail.... 2" of gray roots, grown out.... her hair lying flat, looking so lifeless.... She was walking hunched over, barely dragging her feet with each step.... This was not the Friend we knew....
"Ohhhh look! You have 4 beautiful women visitors!" Caretaker says, loudly.... still having her phone mate on speaker.... In another language, "Caretaker" must have said that she needed to go or would phone her friend back later, because she ended up hanging up shortly after. "Caretaker" greeted us with such joy and smiles, speaking loudly the entire time...
We all chatted briefly.... "Friend, we brought you flowers and a card and wanted to see how you were doing! We miss you! How are you doing?"
Friend says, "Ohhhh, I'm doing fine.... getting better...."
Her face looked so hopeless.... We knew this wasn't right....
to be continued....
Monday, January 4, 2016
"Caretakers" don't always take care.... part 1.
I've gone back and forth about this one.... this one has taken up huge parts of my soul.... stayed with me for so much time and still continues to linger.... This whole thing has been like something you'd see in an awful movie.... things you only see on the news, happening to other people.... not to anyone you know....
You ever sit back and wonder, "How the hell did this come about? How did I get into this?!" I've done this multiple times in the past 4-5 months.... I'll tell you the best way that I can....
August 2015. Grandma is 86. Friend is 87. They live in same independent apartment community, exactly 2 floors separating the 2.... If you were to go down two apartments below grammy's, you'd be in Friend's apartment.... Friend becomes ill.... Grandma mentions this to us, casually. Friend has always been completely independent. Friend doesn't have ANY family here in the states.... not a single member.... Friend asks neighbor to call an ambulance as she has shingles and believes something else may be wrong with her... She feels awful.... Friend's neighbor calls 9-1-1. Ambulance transports Friend to local hospital. Maintenance man of the property knows all residents well.... knows who has family and who does not.... Tips off "caretaker" in the building that Friend was transported by ambulance to hospital. Tells "caretaker" that Friend does not have ANY family here. "Caretaker" shows up to the hospital and tells 87 yr. old Friend that Friend's apartment building sent her to come care for and take her home, because they knew she has no family. 87 yr old Friend, terribly vulnerable and slightly confused, has no idea what is going on and agrees to leave with "caretaker," as she has seen "caretaker" in their apartment building before. ("Caretaker" is not licensed by the way, but no one knows this.... hell, we didn't even know any of this happened until way after the fact)....
"Caretaker" was looking for new "patients" because the last 2 that she had been caring for just died, within 2 weeks of Friend getting transported to the hospital.... "Caretaker" stays around the clock with Friend for what turns out to be a few weeks.... We finally find out about said "Caretaker" being at Friend's apartment by Grammy. Grammy has also been going downstairs to visit Friend at her apartment 2-3 times a day.... A few weeks pass and "Caretaker" is not allowing Grammy to see Friend as much. "Caretaker" says that Friend is sleeping and not up for company.... Grammy does not tell us this initially. Mom asks Grammy about Friend and if "Caretaker" is still there.... Everyone has bad feelings but no one knows what to do.... "Caretaker" stays.... Between 4 and 5 weeks pass and Grammy hasn't been able to see or talk to Friend in a week and a half.... Grammy tries calling Friend multiple times and someone either picks up the phone and hangs up or else tells Grammy that Friend is sleeping and not wanting any company or to talk....
Fast forward to end of September... Mom and I are sitting in the hospital while Poppa is having surgery. We are talking about everything under the sun and bring up Friend and Grammy. Mom tells me that Grammy called late the night before Poppa's surgery, asking her to come over because she was ill.... Mom shows up around 8-9 pm to find Grammy had been throwing up....
Rewind 2 weeks before Poppa's surgery.... Grammy had been sleeping on and off all day.... was terribly confused and had even seen a neurologist because we were all convinced she was getting alzheimer's or something of the sort... She has always gotten up and ready near the same time every single day for years.... now she'd been sleeping on and off all day... She wasn't getting ready.... she was staying in her jammies all day.... It was scary!!! It all happened so fast!
NO IDEA WHYYYYYY this hits me the way it did at the hospital, but it hit me hard this way.... "Has 'caretaker' had any access to Grammy? Food or drinks or anything?" I'd asked Mom. Mom didn't know.... We called Grammy at 4 pm, and of course, woke her up.... She was slurring and not making a whole lot of sense, but told us that "caretaker" was so kind and always making sure she ate or drank, etc.... I immediately told her not to open her door for anyone.... not to take ANY food or drinks from "Caretaker" and to call us immediately if "caretaker" showed up, knocking on her door again.... Grammy was scared.... but so were we....
I KNEW we needed to do something..... and I knew we needed to move quickly.....
(to be continued)
You ever sit back and wonder, "How the hell did this come about? How did I get into this?!" I've done this multiple times in the past 4-5 months.... I'll tell you the best way that I can....
August 2015. Grandma is 86. Friend is 87. They live in same independent apartment community, exactly 2 floors separating the 2.... If you were to go down two apartments below grammy's, you'd be in Friend's apartment.... Friend becomes ill.... Grandma mentions this to us, casually. Friend has always been completely independent. Friend doesn't have ANY family here in the states.... not a single member.... Friend asks neighbor to call an ambulance as she has shingles and believes something else may be wrong with her... She feels awful.... Friend's neighbor calls 9-1-1. Ambulance transports Friend to local hospital. Maintenance man of the property knows all residents well.... knows who has family and who does not.... Tips off "caretaker" in the building that Friend was transported by ambulance to hospital. Tells "caretaker" that Friend does not have ANY family here. "Caretaker" shows up to the hospital and tells 87 yr. old Friend that Friend's apartment building sent her to come care for and take her home, because they knew she has no family. 87 yr old Friend, terribly vulnerable and slightly confused, has no idea what is going on and agrees to leave with "caretaker," as she has seen "caretaker" in their apartment building before. ("Caretaker" is not licensed by the way, but no one knows this.... hell, we didn't even know any of this happened until way after the fact)....
"Caretaker" was looking for new "patients" because the last 2 that she had been caring for just died, within 2 weeks of Friend getting transported to the hospital.... "Caretaker" stays around the clock with Friend for what turns out to be a few weeks.... We finally find out about said "Caretaker" being at Friend's apartment by Grammy. Grammy has also been going downstairs to visit Friend at her apartment 2-3 times a day.... A few weeks pass and "Caretaker" is not allowing Grammy to see Friend as much. "Caretaker" says that Friend is sleeping and not up for company.... Grammy does not tell us this initially. Mom asks Grammy about Friend and if "Caretaker" is still there.... Everyone has bad feelings but no one knows what to do.... "Caretaker" stays.... Between 4 and 5 weeks pass and Grammy hasn't been able to see or talk to Friend in a week and a half.... Grammy tries calling Friend multiple times and someone either picks up the phone and hangs up or else tells Grammy that Friend is sleeping and not wanting any company or to talk....
Fast forward to end of September... Mom and I are sitting in the hospital while Poppa is having surgery. We are talking about everything under the sun and bring up Friend and Grammy. Mom tells me that Grammy called late the night before Poppa's surgery, asking her to come over because she was ill.... Mom shows up around 8-9 pm to find Grammy had been throwing up....
Rewind 2 weeks before Poppa's surgery.... Grammy had been sleeping on and off all day.... was terribly confused and had even seen a neurologist because we were all convinced she was getting alzheimer's or something of the sort... She has always gotten up and ready near the same time every single day for years.... now she'd been sleeping on and off all day... She wasn't getting ready.... she was staying in her jammies all day.... It was scary!!! It all happened so fast!
NO IDEA WHYYYYYY this hits me the way it did at the hospital, but it hit me hard this way.... "Has 'caretaker' had any access to Grammy? Food or drinks or anything?" I'd asked Mom. Mom didn't know.... We called Grammy at 4 pm, and of course, woke her up.... She was slurring and not making a whole lot of sense, but told us that "caretaker" was so kind and always making sure she ate or drank, etc.... I immediately told her not to open her door for anyone.... not to take ANY food or drinks from "Caretaker" and to call us immediately if "caretaker" showed up, knocking on her door again.... Grammy was scared.... but so were we....
I KNEW we needed to do something..... and I knew we needed to move quickly.....
(to be continued)
Saturday, August 8, 2015
So long, Little Red Wagon....
Okay... this is lame.... but this Radio Flyer wagon was my gift to Taylor on her 1st birthday.... Well, it wasn't JUST this wagon, but the wagon (and the umbrella that attached to the side) was her "big gift." She loved going on walks and riding in wagons.... we'd put blankets and pillows in this one. There are 2 cup holders, so she could always bring her sippy cup with her... This one even had a built-in cooler (see how the bottom, beige part, dips down? That's the cooler.... There's even a drainage hole so the ice could melt and drain out.... we actually used that "cooler" more for storage when we'd go to the swap meet). The 4 interlocking sides of the wagon are all removable, so sometimes, over the more recent years, I'd use it as a dolly for heavier items....
Next month, she is turning 13.... we've had this wagon for almost 12 years.... I was thinking that maybe it had some sentimental value to her, buuuuut.... after trying to convince her that it did talking to her about it.... no.... it really doesn't.... not now, anyway....
A few months back, mom and I were at Costco and we saw this foldable/collapsable wagon with a carrying handle (even though it is heavy as all heck and you wouldn't really "carry" it anywhere, other than lifting it in and out of your car).... My immediate thoughts were, "PERFECT! I could get this one and get rid of the radio flyer! It would save room in the garage and Jason will be happy!" Last month, mom got me that wagon for my birthday but she also told Jason my ORIGINAL plan about getting rid of the radio flyer also, so now I feel obligated to get rid of this wagon, and I guess I really don't NEED to have TWO wagons.... especially because I'd just recently purchased a dolly to serve the purpose of a dolly....
For all the wonderful walks we shared in this little red wagon.... the countless smiles and joy you brought Taylor, circling around and around in the backyard.... For holding our purchases, our belongings.... for carrying Asia on "walks".... for helping me carry things around the yard and from the truck to the garage.... I am so thankful for you, sweet Radio Flyer.... I hope we can find you a new and wonderful family.... one you can bring many more smiles and memories to for years to come!!!
(Do you wanna know how dysfunctional I am? I'm literally typing this with tears in my eyes, thinking about all of the memories!!)
So long, Little Red Wagon.... with this post, we will never forget you!!!
A.D.D. Solution #437- How to get rid of stuff
Soooo.... I've struggled with "getting rid of stuff" for quite some time.... I don't know if it's the A.D.D part or my crazy emotions.... I have so much "stuff".... I remember who gave me what and when and everything else you could possibly remember about items.... I have all these wonderful intentions of finding the perfect people who might want or NEED these items, but where do you actually FIND the perfect people for your stuff? I imagine finding a woman who is looking for work and then giving her my Express dress clothes, because I know how much I paid for each pair of those pants and shirts.... Or, I imagine finding kids who don't have toys or kids who need clothes and giving them all of the kids' things.... Where I'm going to find these kids? I'm not really sure... Our garage is like.... ummm, I don't even know what you'd want to call it, but it's scary.... it has a whole bunch of crap from a whole bunch of years, holding a whole bunch of memories (and not) and I just have a really hard (and overwhelming) time going through any and all of it....
A few weeks ago, in one of my therapy sessions, I'd had this idea.... what if I took my laptop with me, out into the garage and took photos with the "stuff" that I've been holding on to.... take a photo with the stuff and then jot down the memories that I'm afraid of losing if this item goes away....
So.... It's been an idea for some time and I haven't really started it yet, but last Sunday, after some good tunes and a few glasses of wine, I'd decided to give it a shot.... I made a sign.... "Get Rid Of.... (Let it go) of all your junk & dysfunctions...." and then started pilingstuff shit next to that sign.... You may laugh.... you may wonder why I've held onto it for so long.... I couldn't tell you exactly why, but for whatever reason it's been in my shelf-less garage.... and I've had a hard time determining a "stack" for it to go into.... but this.... THIS marks my starting point.... well actually like my 3rd or 4th starting point, because I've been throwing some plants away for a few weeks already.... (which I feel TERRIBLY guilty about).... anyway.... here goes.... bear with me on this BORING and highly emotional (for me) journey.... as I go piece by piece, through all kind of crap... and let. it. go..... (of course, I'm singing "Let It Go")....
AHHHH!!!!!
A few weeks ago, in one of my therapy sessions, I'd had this idea.... what if I took my laptop with me, out into the garage and took photos with the "stuff" that I've been holding on to.... take a photo with the stuff and then jot down the memories that I'm afraid of losing if this item goes away....
So.... It's been an idea for some time and I haven't really started it yet, but last Sunday, after some good tunes and a few glasses of wine, I'd decided to give it a shot.... I made a sign.... "Get Rid Of.... (Let it go) of all your junk & dysfunctions...." and then started piling
AHHHH!!!!!
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
My Personal Ad....
Funny what attracts you to someone, initially....
I can give you boatloads of lists of things that I found so attractive about Jason.... and I can also give you some much smaller lists of things that I chose to overlook at that time....
Fast forward to nearly 7 years later and here we are....
Every marriage goes up and down....
It is DEFINITELY how you weather those storms, TOGETHER, that determine the outcome....
It's easy to be with someone who makes you happy and smile and laugh and sees you through your good times....
Admit it.... it is easy to be with someone who is HAPPY and radiant and beaming.... no?
Recently, (well within the last few months), I've thought about the things that I LOVE to do....
which then led me to think about the things I DON'T love or even LIKE to do....
which then led to me basically writing a personal ad....
which then led me to send it to Jason, via text, because it kind of made me laugh....
MY PERSONAL AD (if I was advertising myself.... which of course I'm not, but if I were.... this is probably what it would say):
"Hi. My name is Ashley. I love music, dancing ( I don't care WHERE I am or who sees me.... In fact, if you join in, you get bonus points!) .... Love red wine.... and sitting on the beach, especially at sunset.... I don't like long walks in the sand. I usually get tired.... (and hot and sweaty).... and I don't particularly ENJOY being hot and sweaty.... but I DO love the sun! I carry my venti Starbucks cup, filled with water, with me everywhere I go because otherwise I'd forget to drink water and I don't want to have kidney issues.... like, ever.... (and secretly because when I was pregnant and chubby, I started drinking TONS of water and actually lost weight...) and there are just a ton of other healthy reasons to drink water.... so, there's that....
I don't enjoy cooking or cleaning. Ideally, I'd have a housecleaner come every 2 weeks, because every 4 weeks just reminds me what a failure I am at cleaning.... The hair build up on the floor grosses me out.... Don't get me wrong, I'll clean, I just REALLY, REALLY enjoy everything clean at once.... and I get distracted.... A LOT.... I have been practicing being a lot more mindful with what I'm doing, but the internal battle of fighting distraction and the actual distraction just really clash a lot and sometimes I can't even fight the distraction....*
I cry a lot.... like A LOT, a lot.... happy things. sad things. every things..... I think everything has feelings, which leads me to doing weird things like HAVING to put groceries back when other people leave them in the wrong section...**
I love plants, mostly succulents because they tend to be the only thing I can semi keep alive.... and because they are terribly resilient, which I think we all have to be in order to keep moving forward in life, growing and progressing.... we have to have some amount of resilience for that....
I love sweets and good food in general, and I just think that life is way too short to only do grown up stuff all the time...."
*in case you are thoroughly confused, I'll give you an example.... the other day, I put a trader joe's bag of jasmine rice in the microwave for 3 minutes.... and figured 3 minutes plus the additional minute it needs to cool down would be the perfect time to fold the load of laundry that just beeped. So I went and started folding the laundry fresh out of the dryer, cleaned the lint trap and realized the trash bag in the laundry room was full so I took it to the bathroom trash and had to go to the bathroom, then realized I needed to take the bathroom trash out.... took the bathroom trash outside, came back in the house and realized that I had put rice in the microwave and it was now EXTRA cooled off.... so I added my red ginger to the rice, sat down and ate a bowl, rinsed it off and did some other stuff and headed back towards my bedroom and saw the laundry room light was still on and the dryer door was open and the dryer light was on, because the door was open, and yeah.....) It just takes me a lot longer to get done things that shouldn't take that long.... and it is frustrating as all hell and not because I'm terribly lazy, but usually because I want to do everything....
WHO in their RIGHT mind would EVER respond to any kind of personal ad like this??!!
**mostly like me putting a frozen box of waffles back in its frozen section when someone decides they don't want/need it and leave it in the pile of avocados in the produce section.... weird things like that....
Thankful for a husband, (though he didn't respond to this written ad), has loved me through 7 years of this nonsense!
To be continued....
I can give you boatloads of lists of things that I found so attractive about Jason.... and I can also give you some much smaller lists of things that I chose to overlook at that time....
Fast forward to nearly 7 years later and here we are....
Every marriage goes up and down....
It is DEFINITELY how you weather those storms, TOGETHER, that determine the outcome....
It's easy to be with someone who makes you happy and smile and laugh and sees you through your good times....
Admit it.... it is easy to be with someone who is HAPPY and radiant and beaming.... no?
Recently, (well within the last few months), I've thought about the things that I LOVE to do....
which then led me to think about the things I DON'T love or even LIKE to do....
which then led to me basically writing a personal ad....
which then led me to send it to Jason, via text, because it kind of made me laugh....
MY PERSONAL AD (if I was advertising myself.... which of course I'm not, but if I were.... this is probably what it would say):
"Hi. My name is Ashley. I love music, dancing ( I don't care WHERE I am or who sees me.... In fact, if you join in, you get bonus points!) .... Love red wine.... and sitting on the beach, especially at sunset.... I don't like long walks in the sand. I usually get tired.... (and hot and sweaty).... and I don't particularly ENJOY being hot and sweaty.... but I DO love the sun! I carry my venti Starbucks cup, filled with water, with me everywhere I go because otherwise I'd forget to drink water and I don't want to have kidney issues.... like, ever.... (and secretly because when I was pregnant and chubby, I started drinking TONS of water and actually lost weight...) and there are just a ton of other healthy reasons to drink water.... so, there's that....
I don't enjoy cooking or cleaning. Ideally, I'd have a housecleaner come every 2 weeks, because every 4 weeks just reminds me what a failure I am at cleaning.... The hair build up on the floor grosses me out.... Don't get me wrong, I'll clean, I just REALLY, REALLY enjoy everything clean at once.... and I get distracted.... A LOT.... I have been practicing being a lot more mindful with what I'm doing, but the internal battle of fighting distraction and the actual distraction just really clash a lot and sometimes I can't even fight the distraction....*
I cry a lot.... like A LOT, a lot.... happy things. sad things. every things..... I think everything has feelings, which leads me to doing weird things like HAVING to put groceries back when other people leave them in the wrong section...**
I love plants, mostly succulents because they tend to be the only thing I can semi keep alive.... and because they are terribly resilient, which I think we all have to be in order to keep moving forward in life, growing and progressing.... we have to have some amount of resilience for that....
I love sweets and good food in general, and I just think that life is way too short to only do grown up stuff all the time...."
*in case you are thoroughly confused, I'll give you an example.... the other day, I put a trader joe's bag of jasmine rice in the microwave for 3 minutes.... and figured 3 minutes plus the additional minute it needs to cool down would be the perfect time to fold the load of laundry that just beeped. So I went and started folding the laundry fresh out of the dryer, cleaned the lint trap and realized the trash bag in the laundry room was full so I took it to the bathroom trash and had to go to the bathroom, then realized I needed to take the bathroom trash out.... took the bathroom trash outside, came back in the house and realized that I had put rice in the microwave and it was now EXTRA cooled off.... so I added my red ginger to the rice, sat down and ate a bowl, rinsed it off and did some other stuff and headed back towards my bedroom and saw the laundry room light was still on and the dryer door was open and the dryer light was on, because the door was open, and yeah.....) It just takes me a lot longer to get done things that shouldn't take that long.... and it is frustrating as all hell and not because I'm terribly lazy, but usually because I want to do everything....
WHO in their RIGHT mind would EVER respond to any kind of personal ad like this??!!
**mostly like me putting a frozen box of waffles back in its frozen section when someone decides they don't want/need it and leave it in the pile of avocados in the produce section.... weird things like that....
Thankful for a husband, (though he didn't respond to this written ad), has loved me through 7 years of this nonsense!
To be continued....
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Happy Birthday, Dad....
You know, I do miss him terribly, because I can't help but to replay parts of my life in my head and how I would have LIKED to have done them differently.... There are things I wish I had known sooner.... But life goes along just as it does... I can't say that I don't hurt anymore, because I do, but I just miss him more than I hurt, if that makes any sense.... The longer he is gone, the more fear sets in that I won't remember things about him one day and that really scares me....
Today, on the way to dropping the kids off at school, I said, "Today would have been Pappy's 68th birthday!" I did not have any sadness in my voice.... I felt rather peaceful.... I did.... From the back seat, Lewie says, "It IS his birthday mom."
I said, "If he was still alive, he would be 68."
Again, he corrects me and says, "He IS 68, mom. He's just not alive."
It made me smile.... He says, "I'm really sorry your dad passed away, mom."
I said, "aww thanks buddy! It's okay though. Everyone passes away at some point and Pappy was very sick and in a lot of pain for a long time."
He asks, "How did he die again?" (I've told him the story many times).
"He had cancer buddy."
"Yeah, but what kind? How did he get the cancer?" he asked....
"He smoked and got lung cancer, and then the cancer went from his lungs into his brain, and then there were other complications from that."
I started reminiscing about my dad and some of the hilarious things that he did.... I see his sense of humor in the kids a lot.... They don't even realize it, but they remind me so much of him too.... Little Lewie is SOOOO much like my dad, it's pretty crazy.... Taylor and I were talking about my dad and I was smiling and it was feeling rather upbeat, when all of a sudden, I look over at her and tears are just streaming down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and almost looked as if she was smiling, but she was crying.... (my girl does NOT cry very often, at all!).... My eyes welled up with tears and I put my hand on her shoulder and asked, "aww honey, what's wrong?"
She said, "I don't remember him, mom. I try so hard to remember him, but I don't remember him, mom. I can remember going to Tennessee and doing things there, but I don't remember HIM!" and she just cried and it broke. my. heart.... She knows how much he loved her because everyone always tells her that.... she sees pictures everywhere.... My dad was a strong and masculine man, but boy could his tone go from deep voice, to teddy bear when he saw Taylor.... It was such an incredible bond to watch develop... He gave her anything she wanted.... Maybe it brought peace to my heart, because I saw my dad in a form that I never saw him with while I was growing up.... I'm not quite sure.... We didn't see him often, but it was nice when we did.... He would call and ask to talk to her.... he'd leave messages for her.... He really loved her a lot.... and she loved him too! I think that's why it makes me sad that she doesn't remember him.... THIS is one of those things that a child just can't ever understand until they have children of their own... how closely and connected your heartstrings are to theirs.... I feel fortunate to have had Taylor so young, because it TRULY gave me an incredibly deep appreciation for what my mom did for all of us girls.... That was a huge blessing for having Taylor when I did....
When Lewie heard Taylor begin to cry, his tears let loose as well.... He had already had watery eyes, but then his alligator tears came too.... They were both crying and then I began crying too! I said, "awwww no crying.... Pappy was very sick and in a lot of pain, but you know what? He knew he was going to pass away the day that he did. Do you know how powerful that must feel? To KNOW when you and your body are just done fighting?"
For those of you who don't know the story of the day my dad passed, it was pretty incredible but also very, very difficult for my stepmom who was the only one with him when he did end up passing. The ambulance came to their small town and pulled all the way up to their front porch. He wanted to walk himself, with his oxygen, out to the ambulance. He put his arm around my stepmom and said, "We've had a good life together, Ma. I'm done fighting. I'm not coming home this time." She wasn't having it. She was in a rush to get things together and pack a bag for the hospital, because she never knew how long their stay would be and they were far from any hospital.... Once he was admitted, she wouldn't leave, so she was trying to get things together... She dismissed his "nonsense talk" and hurried along.... Again, he said, "I'm done fightin' Ma. I'm not coming home this time. No more tubes. No more drains.... I'm tired."
That was it.... that was at 7 o'clock in the morning and he passed away at 12 noon, just 5 hours later.... Of course the weeks leading up to this day were not easy.... He had had a 60+ day hospital stay and had just been home not very long when this happened. I had flown out there and helped her to care for him just about 3-4 weeks prior to his death.... He wasn't the dad I remembered, but every now and again, I'd catch a glimpse of the dad I knew.... He was still stubborn as all heck and still believed HE was the boss and he could still bark orders at us, but to see his physical strength, as well as his mental state, deteriorate at the rate that it was.... that was incredibly difficult to see.... Here was the man who had the strength of Hulk (at least it always seemed like that, to me, for my whole life).... He did the physical and manual labor of 5 men, and could do nearly anything.... He loved to learn and to explore.... Many of my earlier memories of him were in Tennessee.... He had a big home and a big yard.... The neighbors were all so friendly and helped and taught each other.... Us kids would jump on the riding lawn mower and attach a trailer to the back. We'd ride each other around and out into the woods, collecting trashcans full of leaves, building HUGE piles and then jumping off of the trashcan (turned over) or off of tree limbs into the piles of leaves.... We picked green beans and cucumbers and caught plastic pools full of toads.... Many of his days were spent with a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth, as he "piddled" on projects in the yard or garage.... "Whatcha doin' dad?" I'd ask.... "ohhh, just piddlin'," he'd say.... That meant he was just tinkering with a few different things... He'd always have an ice cold beer in a coozy. But there were usually at least 2 coozies, one for the current drink he had and one in the freezer for the next beer he'd drink.... (He ended up quitting his drinking after his heart attack in his 40's....) and he did quit smoking, but picked it back up after some time.... Dad eventually quit smoking and eventually even became appalled at the smell of it. It amazed me because this was a man who, at his smoking peak, smoked 3 packs a day.... he smoked inside his house and the car, and wasn't ever bothered by the smell.... So, within the last few years of his life, it was nice to see him finally realize how AWFUL the smell was and to even talk about it with us....
Today, I am thankful for the 60 years he lived.... Though I wish we had more time together, I am thankful for the times that we DID have together.... I know that he loved Taylor and I.... 8 years after his passing, I feel a lot more peaceful than I ever did about things before.... I have a much better understanding of our lives and I am thankful for that.... What I mean by that, is that I believe I have a better understanding of his life while I was a child and how our lives transitioned as I grew older.... I am thankful he quit drinking and smoking and was sober and able to feel things, especially within the last years of his life.... Some of my fondest memories will be of those last few years and some of the conversations we shared....
I smile today, because I imagine him in his eternity.... making sure EVERYONE knows it's his birthday.... I imagine someone rubbing his feet with horse hoof cream, and him watching T.V., doing his loud fake cry for attention.... I imagine my Grandma (his mom) preparing his favorite meal for him, or him asking for ice cream for dinner.... I can hear his deep belly laughs.... I can see his cheeks turning bright red and his belly jumping up and down from laughing so hard.... I can smell him just out of the shower, with a squirt of his cologne.... I can feel his soft cheeks just after he shaved and I can hear his deep, deep voice, saying, "heellllo darlin."
I can see his big, new smile and I can feel his big, warm bear hugs....
I can feel nothing but love for him today.... and that makes me smile....
Happy 68th birthday, Dad! I can feel your presence all around me today.... I love you!
Today, on the way to dropping the kids off at school, I said, "Today would have been Pappy's 68th birthday!" I did not have any sadness in my voice.... I felt rather peaceful.... I did.... From the back seat, Lewie says, "It IS his birthday mom."
I said, "If he was still alive, he would be 68."
Again, he corrects me and says, "He IS 68, mom. He's just not alive."
It made me smile.... He says, "I'm really sorry your dad passed away, mom."
I said, "aww thanks buddy! It's okay though. Everyone passes away at some point and Pappy was very sick and in a lot of pain for a long time."
He asks, "How did he die again?" (I've told him the story many times).
"He had cancer buddy."
"Yeah, but what kind? How did he get the cancer?" he asked....
"He smoked and got lung cancer, and then the cancer went from his lungs into his brain, and then there were other complications from that."
I started reminiscing about my dad and some of the hilarious things that he did.... I see his sense of humor in the kids a lot.... They don't even realize it, but they remind me so much of him too.... Little Lewie is SOOOO much like my dad, it's pretty crazy.... Taylor and I were talking about my dad and I was smiling and it was feeling rather upbeat, when all of a sudden, I look over at her and tears are just streaming down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and almost looked as if she was smiling, but she was crying.... (my girl does NOT cry very often, at all!).... My eyes welled up with tears and I put my hand on her shoulder and asked, "aww honey, what's wrong?"
She said, "I don't remember him, mom. I try so hard to remember him, but I don't remember him, mom. I can remember going to Tennessee and doing things there, but I don't remember HIM!" and she just cried and it broke. my. heart.... She knows how much he loved her because everyone always tells her that.... she sees pictures everywhere.... My dad was a strong and masculine man, but boy could his tone go from deep voice, to teddy bear when he saw Taylor.... It was such an incredible bond to watch develop... He gave her anything she wanted.... Maybe it brought peace to my heart, because I saw my dad in a form that I never saw him with while I was growing up.... I'm not quite sure.... We didn't see him often, but it was nice when we did.... He would call and ask to talk to her.... he'd leave messages for her.... He really loved her a lot.... and she loved him too! I think that's why it makes me sad that she doesn't remember him.... THIS is one of those things that a child just can't ever understand until they have children of their own... how closely and connected your heartstrings are to theirs.... I feel fortunate to have had Taylor so young, because it TRULY gave me an incredibly deep appreciation for what my mom did for all of us girls.... That was a huge blessing for having Taylor when I did....
When Lewie heard Taylor begin to cry, his tears let loose as well.... He had already had watery eyes, but then his alligator tears came too.... They were both crying and then I began crying too! I said, "awwww no crying.... Pappy was very sick and in a lot of pain, but you know what? He knew he was going to pass away the day that he did. Do you know how powerful that must feel? To KNOW when you and your body are just done fighting?"
For those of you who don't know the story of the day my dad passed, it was pretty incredible but also very, very difficult for my stepmom who was the only one with him when he did end up passing. The ambulance came to their small town and pulled all the way up to their front porch. He wanted to walk himself, with his oxygen, out to the ambulance. He put his arm around my stepmom and said, "We've had a good life together, Ma. I'm done fighting. I'm not coming home this time." She wasn't having it. She was in a rush to get things together and pack a bag for the hospital, because she never knew how long their stay would be and they were far from any hospital.... Once he was admitted, she wouldn't leave, so she was trying to get things together... She dismissed his "nonsense talk" and hurried along.... Again, he said, "I'm done fightin' Ma. I'm not coming home this time. No more tubes. No more drains.... I'm tired."
That was it.... that was at 7 o'clock in the morning and he passed away at 12 noon, just 5 hours later.... Of course the weeks leading up to this day were not easy.... He had had a 60+ day hospital stay and had just been home not very long when this happened. I had flown out there and helped her to care for him just about 3-4 weeks prior to his death.... He wasn't the dad I remembered, but every now and again, I'd catch a glimpse of the dad I knew.... He was still stubborn as all heck and still believed HE was the boss and he could still bark orders at us, but to see his physical strength, as well as his mental state, deteriorate at the rate that it was.... that was incredibly difficult to see.... Here was the man who had the strength of Hulk (at least it always seemed like that, to me, for my whole life).... He did the physical and manual labor of 5 men, and could do nearly anything.... He loved to learn and to explore.... Many of my earlier memories of him were in Tennessee.... He had a big home and a big yard.... The neighbors were all so friendly and helped and taught each other.... Us kids would jump on the riding lawn mower and attach a trailer to the back. We'd ride each other around and out into the woods, collecting trashcans full of leaves, building HUGE piles and then jumping off of the trashcan (turned over) or off of tree limbs into the piles of leaves.... We picked green beans and cucumbers and caught plastic pools full of toads.... Many of his days were spent with a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth, as he "piddled" on projects in the yard or garage.... "Whatcha doin' dad?" I'd ask.... "ohhh, just piddlin'," he'd say.... That meant he was just tinkering with a few different things... He'd always have an ice cold beer in a coozy. But there were usually at least 2 coozies, one for the current drink he had and one in the freezer for the next beer he'd drink.... (He ended up quitting his drinking after his heart attack in his 40's....) and he did quit smoking, but picked it back up after some time.... Dad eventually quit smoking and eventually even became appalled at the smell of it. It amazed me because this was a man who, at his smoking peak, smoked 3 packs a day.... he smoked inside his house and the car, and wasn't ever bothered by the smell.... So, within the last few years of his life, it was nice to see him finally realize how AWFUL the smell was and to even talk about it with us....
Today, I am thankful for the 60 years he lived.... Though I wish we had more time together, I am thankful for the times that we DID have together.... I know that he loved Taylor and I.... 8 years after his passing, I feel a lot more peaceful than I ever did about things before.... I have a much better understanding of our lives and I am thankful for that.... What I mean by that, is that I believe I have a better understanding of his life while I was a child and how our lives transitioned as I grew older.... I am thankful he quit drinking and smoking and was sober and able to feel things, especially within the last years of his life.... Some of my fondest memories will be of those last few years and some of the conversations we shared....
I smile today, because I imagine him in his eternity.... making sure EVERYONE knows it's his birthday.... I imagine someone rubbing his feet with horse hoof cream, and him watching T.V., doing his loud fake cry for attention.... I imagine my Grandma (his mom) preparing his favorite meal for him, or him asking for ice cream for dinner.... I can hear his deep belly laughs.... I can see his cheeks turning bright red and his belly jumping up and down from laughing so hard.... I can smell him just out of the shower, with a squirt of his cologne.... I can feel his soft cheeks just after he shaved and I can hear his deep, deep voice, saying, "heellllo darlin."
I can see his big, new smile and I can feel his big, warm bear hugs....
I can feel nothing but love for him today.... and that makes me smile....
Happy 68th birthday, Dad! I can feel your presence all around me today.... I love you!
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Part 2. Getting the appointment.
Thursday (just shy of 2 weeks) rolls around.... We still hadn't received anything in the mail or a phone call or anything else, so I called their office. The MRI had been approved. They faxed over the info to the scheduling line and had me call to schedule the test. They had us come in that Sunday, 3 days after I'd called. We arrive before 12 noon and were taken into the back. The tech was a very friendly man. He explained everything, thoroughly, to Taylor.... She wasn't nervous.... Thank goodness....
He had me place the "marker" on the lump.
He had me place the "marker" on the lump.
This marker is super small.... like the size of a capsule you'd swallow with a glass of water.... anyhow... it's basically a capsule, filled with yellow fluid on a sticker that sticks to your back over the area to be photographed.
So we place the marker over the lump and into the "tube" room she goes.... He shows me to a chair around the corner from the room. It's one of those cold, hard, hospital recliners.... I had my backpack with me because we were told it could be an hour.... Jason was at home with Lewie because Lewie had woken up with a 103.4 fever. (He had JUST gotten over being sick, as he got sick right after Taylor had gotten better)... the man turned the music on for her.... The very first song was that hawaiian version of "somewhere over the rainbow" followed by some Norah Jones and then "don't worry, be happy..." You're probably wondering why I go into such detail about everything.... Things, like music, remind me of times in my life.... lyrics to songs, happy times, sad times.... music is a HUGE part of me and how I remember things.... I really was enjoying the music selection.... He stopped and made a call to the radiologist at some point during the exam (it was after a pretty short time).... The music was playing and there was a loud chirping sound in the background.... When a mother wants to hear something, she can tune her ears in to the sound she is trying to hear and drown out the rest of the noise.... and that is exactly what I did.... "She's only 12 years old," I'd heard him say. They showed me the MRI and how there wasn't any fluid around the marker (besides the fluid that was IN the capsule/marker).... This could rule out it being a fluid filled cyst.
The MRI machines are basically pre-programmed with protocol for certain tests. When there is an order for an MRI of the spine, the machine has 10-12 photos that it takes, because what they are looking for is usually seen within those 10-12 images... The tech who was taking these images noted that the normal set of 10-12 photos was not capturing the capsule/marker in that 10-12 set. So he increased the number of images and took 22 instead, and STILL wasn't getting the marker into the images.... That was the point that he had phoned the radiologist. He was given pretty specific instructions on what we needed to do at this point. The radiologist needed us to phone our doctor the next day (Monday), and tell her that instead of the MRI of the spine, she needed to place an order for an abdominal MRI with focus on the lateral back mass. This way it would ensure capturing the capsule/marker in the set of images that they took.
Monday comes, and I called the doctor's office and explained the situation. She informs me that she will put the new order in for referral from the insurance company and they would let me know in 7-10 business days. I was NOT about to wait another 10-12 days for a response again.... I told her that I could call the insurance myself if I needed to. They hadn't submitted the set of images from the first MRI, so technically, they shouldn't have needed another approval as we were doing the same test, just in a different area.... She said, "Give me a few hours and let me see what I can do, okay?" A few hours later, she calls with insurance approval. AWESOME! Now I can call and reschedule.
Thankfully, they were able to get us in that Wednesday evening, just 2 days later....
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Part 1. "There's a lump."
I really did expect to be able to fall asleep much easier tonight. I did.... As exhausted as I was earlier today, I didn't think my eyelids would remain open to see the sun set....
This past Saturday was 2 weeks since I took Taylor in to see her doctor again. That Saturday, 2 weeks ago, she was diagnosed with the flu, as she had been sent home early that Friday with a fever.... Taylor RARELY gets sick! The pharmacy had her information on file from 2010.... FIVE years ago.... anyway.... I knew she was getting sick. In fact, I told her she was getting sick a few days before she actually FELT sick.... I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice.... She insisted she wasn't, just as she always does.... but I know.... Mom's just know, you know....
That Saturday morning rolled around and she was in terrible pain. The pain that had her in tears.... and she doesn't cry for pain.... she was miserable.... "Mom, the lump hurts really bad... and it's bigger," she said.... That was enough to get my lazy, bed-loving self up and ready in about 4 and a half minutes (brushing my teeth were 2 of those minutes). She was moving so slowly.... "Come on, let's go!" I kept trying to hurry her along.
You see, 2 months prior to this Saturday visit, she went with me to take Lewie in, as he was carrying sick germs from school for longer than I was comfortable with. They had already told me it was viral, but I just wanted to be sure. I don't normally do that, but my kids also don't normally stay sick for longer than a few days. That morning visit 2 months prior was mainly for Lewie, but we had the doctor look at her ankle and her back as both had been bothering her for some time.... Lewie was quickly looked over and we were told it could last a few more weeks.... Taylor, who was feeling fine (at least not SICK), was her concern.... The doctor examining Taylor was not her routine doctor, but one of the others in their medical group. She was a pretty thorough doctor and I felt comfortable with how she was managing the kids. (not that I know any better, but as a mother, you sort of have a "feeling" about the doctor who sees your kids, no?) She is moving Taylor into different positions with a look of concern on her face. Finally, she said, "there's a lump. here. come feel it, mom." I could tell that something was different about that area, but I couldn't say, "yep! there's a lump!" The doctor could tell that it was the size of a quarter.... She began marking Taylor's back and told us to go down to the hospital next door and have it looked at via ultrasound, stat. What started as us still smiling and joking, quickly turned into a bit of confusion.... "wait... what? where? why?" I think Taylor and I were a little confused. I mean, I didn't think TOO much into it, but I didn't like the doctor's sense of urgency.... "They're busy..... they're busy and that's why she seems so urgent.... she needs us out of here and the next patient in here...." I really did tell myself that to try to help myself from getting all worked up and feeling anxious with her sense of urgency as well...
So, we'd gone downstairs with our STAT order for an ultrasound and an X-ray and tried to be seen. Unfortunately their "stattest" stat test wasn't for another another day.... WHAT?! Couldn't they FEEL the doctor's sense of urgency? Couldn't they FEEL MYYYY sense of urgency?! I asked for a phone list of all of the possible imaging centers I could go to and told them I'd call myself. I wasn't going to wait for another day....
The whole day was spent trying to get everything figured out and done.... we went back into the room with her and I tried like hell to study the screen as they rolled back and forth over her back.... I seriously could not tell you what the hell I was looking at. They could have been scanning a burrito, or a brain and I really wouldn't have been able to tell them apart.... (okay, maybe SLIGHTLY, but when they are rolling over your back, you really have no idea what they're looking at.... not even joking.... you think you see something, but just as you think you do, it goes away and then something else appears and then you think you see THAT, and then that thing goes away and then you are just still staring at a gray screen that keeps moving other gray areas around.... basically, you could have locked me in a dark closet and said, "there's her back...."
I was "in the zone." I mean, I was REALLY trying to see if I could see ANYTHING at all.... I thought to myself, "maybe they can just reach over and scan the right side so they'd have something to compare the images on the left side to." and no quicker than my thoughts arrived, she reached over to scan Taylor's right side.... I'm squinting and leaning in, trying to see if there is ANYTHING, ANYTHING even SLIGHTLY different from the left.... but nothing. She didn't click and measure anything, so I felt pretty confident that we'd get a call from the doctor saying, "all is great. nothing there!"
However....
Doctor called back and basically said, "There's something there, but we aren't sure what."
You see, the tech performs the test that is ordered. (I'm sure you all already know this)....
Then the test is reviewed and translated by the radiologist who never seeeees the patient nor does he/she have the background knowledge/history of the patient.... The radiologist's results were "could be one of these things," and lists a few different things.... Well the doctor who had examined Taylor and FOUND the lump, said, "It's not a lipoma (fatty tumor). It's much harder than that, and it's not really loose or moving around. We already said she didn't hit anything and there is no external bruising or anything.... if she had injured it, then there would still be something visible externally. Bruising or SOMETHING...."
okay.... sooooooo??
She seemed a little stumped. She said, "we're going to monitor it and if it gets any bigger, come in.... if it causes her any pain, come in.... You can try massaging it and warm compresses, but I don't think it's anything muscular, but at least try so we can rule that out also. If it's muscular, it will go away...." My concern was, "I can't tell the exact size of it like you can. How will I know if it gets any bigger?" Again, she told us, "it's the size of a quarter"..... Anyhow, I pretty much bugged Taylor for the next ohhhhh, however long.... "does it hurt?" "can you feel it?" "has it gotten any bigger?" "want me to massage it?" "is it bothering you?"
Hadn't bothered her much since then.... she had just always said it was more annoying or it only bothered her if she pushed on it or around it....
Fast forward to that Saturday, 2 weeks and 2 days ago.... We go in to the "walk in appointments" at their office and the same doctor who saw Taylor a few months ago was now the doctor on call for the weekend. She sees Taylor. She swabs herbrain nose and diagnoses her with the flu.... She goes to review Taylor's chart regarding her lump (keep in mind, this is NOT her normal pediatrician).... She comes back and finds the lump again. She expresses that she doesn't like that it is still present. Asked us if we had massaged it and applied the heating pad to it.... we had.... but the lump remained.... It was then that she submitted the referral for an MRI of her spine. "It should be between 7 and 10 business days to get an approval back." 7-10 whoooooole days before we knew if she could even have the MRI done?? UGH! and so we waited....
This past Saturday was 2 weeks since I took Taylor in to see her doctor again. That Saturday, 2 weeks ago, she was diagnosed with the flu, as she had been sent home early that Friday with a fever.... Taylor RARELY gets sick! The pharmacy had her information on file from 2010.... FIVE years ago.... anyway.... I knew she was getting sick. In fact, I told her she was getting sick a few days before she actually FELT sick.... I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice.... She insisted she wasn't, just as she always does.... but I know.... Mom's just know, you know....
That Saturday morning rolled around and she was in terrible pain. The pain that had her in tears.... and she doesn't cry for pain.... she was miserable.... "Mom, the lump hurts really bad... and it's bigger," she said.... That was enough to get my lazy, bed-loving self up and ready in about 4 and a half minutes (brushing my teeth were 2 of those minutes). She was moving so slowly.... "Come on, let's go!" I kept trying to hurry her along.
You see, 2 months prior to this Saturday visit, she went with me to take Lewie in, as he was carrying sick germs from school for longer than I was comfortable with. They had already told me it was viral, but I just wanted to be sure. I don't normally do that, but my kids also don't normally stay sick for longer than a few days. That morning visit 2 months prior was mainly for Lewie, but we had the doctor look at her ankle and her back as both had been bothering her for some time.... Lewie was quickly looked over and we were told it could last a few more weeks.... Taylor, who was feeling fine (at least not SICK), was her concern.... The doctor examining Taylor was not her routine doctor, but one of the others in their medical group. She was a pretty thorough doctor and I felt comfortable with how she was managing the kids. (not that I know any better, but as a mother, you sort of have a "feeling" about the doctor who sees your kids, no?) She is moving Taylor into different positions with a look of concern on her face. Finally, she said, "there's a lump. here. come feel it, mom." I could tell that something was different about that area, but I couldn't say, "yep! there's a lump!" The doctor could tell that it was the size of a quarter.... She began marking Taylor's back and told us to go down to the hospital next door and have it looked at via ultrasound, stat. What started as us still smiling and joking, quickly turned into a bit of confusion.... "wait... what? where? why?" I think Taylor and I were a little confused. I mean, I didn't think TOO much into it, but I didn't like the doctor's sense of urgency.... "They're busy..... they're busy and that's why she seems so urgent.... she needs us out of here and the next patient in here...." I really did tell myself that to try to help myself from getting all worked up and feeling anxious with her sense of urgency as well...
So, we'd gone downstairs with our STAT order for an ultrasound and an X-ray and tried to be seen. Unfortunately their "stattest" stat test wasn't for another another day.... WHAT?! Couldn't they FEEL the doctor's sense of urgency? Couldn't they FEEL MYYYY sense of urgency?! I asked for a phone list of all of the possible imaging centers I could go to and told them I'd call myself. I wasn't going to wait for another day....
The whole day was spent trying to get everything figured out and done.... we went back into the room with her and I tried like hell to study the screen as they rolled back and forth over her back.... I seriously could not tell you what the hell I was looking at. They could have been scanning a burrito, or a brain and I really wouldn't have been able to tell them apart.... (okay, maybe SLIGHTLY, but when they are rolling over your back, you really have no idea what they're looking at.... not even joking.... you think you see something, but just as you think you do, it goes away and then something else appears and then you think you see THAT, and then that thing goes away and then you are just still staring at a gray screen that keeps moving other gray areas around.... basically, you could have locked me in a dark closet and said, "there's her back...."
I was "in the zone." I mean, I was REALLY trying to see if I could see ANYTHING at all.... I thought to myself, "maybe they can just reach over and scan the right side so they'd have something to compare the images on the left side to." and no quicker than my thoughts arrived, she reached over to scan Taylor's right side.... I'm squinting and leaning in, trying to see if there is ANYTHING, ANYTHING even SLIGHTLY different from the left.... but nothing. She didn't click and measure anything, so I felt pretty confident that we'd get a call from the doctor saying, "all is great. nothing there!"
However....
Doctor called back and basically said, "There's something there, but we aren't sure what."
You see, the tech performs the test that is ordered. (I'm sure you all already know this)....
Then the test is reviewed and translated by the radiologist who never seeeees the patient nor does he/she have the background knowledge/history of the patient.... The radiologist's results were "could be one of these things," and lists a few different things.... Well the doctor who had examined Taylor and FOUND the lump, said, "It's not a lipoma (fatty tumor). It's much harder than that, and it's not really loose or moving around. We already said she didn't hit anything and there is no external bruising or anything.... if she had injured it, then there would still be something visible externally. Bruising or SOMETHING...."
okay.... sooooooo??
She seemed a little stumped. She said, "we're going to monitor it and if it gets any bigger, come in.... if it causes her any pain, come in.... You can try massaging it and warm compresses, but I don't think it's anything muscular, but at least try so we can rule that out also. If it's muscular, it will go away...." My concern was, "I can't tell the exact size of it like you can. How will I know if it gets any bigger?" Again, she told us, "it's the size of a quarter"..... Anyhow, I pretty much bugged Taylor for the next ohhhhh, however long.... "does it hurt?" "can you feel it?" "has it gotten any bigger?" "want me to massage it?" "is it bothering you?"
Hadn't bothered her much since then.... she had just always said it was more annoying or it only bothered her if she pushed on it or around it....
Fast forward to that Saturday, 2 weeks and 2 days ago.... We go in to the "walk in appointments" at their office and the same doctor who saw Taylor a few months ago was now the doctor on call for the weekend. She sees Taylor. She swabs her
Sunday, September 7, 2014
I am many things, but Superwoman is not one of them....
Working on myself has been an ongoing project...
Years and years of work and time have been spent....
Hours upon hours in therapy sessions....
Money that could have been spent on chocolate....
went to my therapist....
Anyway....
It's really a never-ending process.... There is always room for improvement.... always.... however, with that being said, it is also necessary to stop and appreciate the progress made....
Let me take this back a month....
A month ago, I walked into a Yoga studio, knowing absolutely nothing about yoga, except that I would probably get the giggles, the way mom and I do when we are moving a mattress, or, with my luck, I'd be the one who got gas, and would spend most of my "quiet time" focusing on not passing it....
The first class was so strange for me.... I seriously started crying.... yep! crying.... of course, I wasn't full on bawling and I had my eyes closed so that no one would really notice I was crying, but I was... I don't know what moved me to tears.... Maybe it was the instructor's incredibly soft, compassionate voice.... or the words she had been sharing with us over those 75 wonderful minutes.... or, perhaps, it was the painful position she'd had us in that had my feet going numb, while my arms shook like crazy.... When those funky shooting pains would take over, I couldn't focus on anything else, except how the hell I was going to get out of the position and make it work for me.... I DID manage to hear her words over the zapping, shooting pains, and they stuck with me....
"Speak to yourself.... the way you would to a loved one.... think of the voice you would speak to a loved one with.... use that voice when you speak to yourself.... 'Thank you self.... thank you for coming in and practicing yoga today,' she'd had us say to ourselves...
All I could picture was my mean tone.... the frustrated tone that I get with the ones I love, because, for me, that is the "raw" me.... the tired me. the sad me. the upset me. the angry me. the exhausted me. it's the premenstrual me. it's the postmenstrual me. it's the super-highly sensitive me. it's the A.D.D me... it's the all of me that complete strangers aren't always around for.... They don't spend hours on end with me.... through all of the ups and downs.... usually on the bad days, I'm not out of my hermit shell.... I can FEEL that it's not a fantastic day, and so I stay inside.... I avoid the world at all costs, and likely get by with the bare minimum....
HOWEVER.... during our yoga class 2 weeks later, the same instructor was back and teaching us again.... THIS time, she'd said something that stuck out to me again.... she'd told us to get into position in a way that worked for us.... she'd said that we wouldn't always be able to do the same stretches, reaches, flexes, extensions... She said, "do what you are comfortable with today, as that is exactly what you should be doing.... that is your boundary.... your limit.... and you can accept that you are doing all that you can do.... today."
THAT. STUCK. OUT. TO. ME.... and it has ever since.... I guess I sort of combined the two and tried to remember the tone that I would speak to a loved one with.... or a complete stranger.... I tried to think about the voice I used to use with my patients in Oncology.... the one that empathized and sympathized with them.... the voice that wanted them to feel comforted and cared for and loved.... I found that voice.... that soothing voice that I could find at the most painful moments.... I was able to find it.... It was probably the kindest voice I'd had.... I practiced thanking myself for practicing yoga and slowly started working on carrying it over into other areas....
I am my worst critic.... I think we all are.... but if you ask Jason, he'd tell you I am VERY hard on myself.... I don't expect perfection from anyone, but I DO expect it from myself.... the amount of disappointment that one can carry with them at the end of a day, FROM THEMSELVES, can be enough to drive them into a depression, I tell you!!!! It's no joke!!!
When Jason and I met, I had just REALLY started the beginning of "finding myself...." I hate to use those two words, but it really was the beginning of my self-acceptance.... I could remember when (just before Jason and I met), I'd feel so lonely.... In those extremely lonely moments, I made an extra effort to acknowledge those feelings of loneliness.... I'd light a candle in my living room... I would plug my iPod into my television speaker and play soft, relaxing music.... I'd play a variety of music, but for some reason, the John Mayer's "Continuum" album comes to mind as being the album that played the most... There were many songs that I could just feel in my heart... (music has a way of moving me).... I remember lying on the floor, with my arms out by my sides, looking up at the ceiling and acknowledging every painful feeling I was feeling at that moment.... not that I was feeling sorry for myself or anything like that, but more that I was basically opening up my heart, my hands, my mind.... I was opening up myself to accept that right at that moment, I was feeling weak.... I was feeling weak and lonely, and desperate and pretty darn hopeless... I was feeling sad and confused.... and then when the flood of emotions seemed to quiet down, even if just a tiny bit, I started to find the strength to tell myself that these feelings would pass.... they would soon pass and they weren't going to last, at least not forever....
Sometimes it took many more minutes than others to talk myself out of those not-so-great feelings.... other times it was almost instantly....
Where had that time gone?! When was the last time I had laid on the floor of a quiet, dark room or house, looking up at the ceiling, with candles burning and music softly playing? hahahahahahaha!!!! GOOD ONE, ASHLEY! I couldn't tell you the last time anything like that had happened.... Are you kidding me? I've been COMPLETELY consumed these past 5 years.... consumed in all different sorts of stuff.... different types of things, activities, thoughts.... everything!
So, just recently, I have worked on the tone I use when I speak to myself and I say this....
I am a mother.
I am a wife.
I am a member on a Board of Directors.
I am a newsletter editor.
I am a clerical coordinator in a busy unit.
I am a daughter.
I am a step daughter.
I am a friend.
I am a neighbor.
I am a housekeeper.
I am a stranger.
I am a lot of different things, but I am not Superwoman....
When I wake up in the morning, many mornings I will ask Jason, "Is there anything that you would really like done today? Anything I can do for you that would really help you out or make things easier on you?" Sometimes he has things he'd like done... I try to watch the clothes in his closet (his work shirts, undershirts and jeans).... I try to remember to check his underwear and sock drawer to make sure he never gets too low or runs out.... I really try to remember to check those things.... In fact, I really try to stay on top of the laundry so that the pile doesn't get out of control and everyone is out of everything.... A lot of times I'm successful.... other times I am not.... When he'd leave for work in the morning and say, "hey momma, I'm on my last pair of socks," it used to drive me up the freakin' wall! I may have given him a bit of a snippy attitude, because I really don't like being told to do anything (though he wasn't directly TELLING me to DO anything).... but I think even more than that, it was frustration with myself that I hadn't caught that he was on his last pair of socks.... I would get upset that I didn't notice that his sock and underwear drawer were running too low....
I sometimes ask what I can do for Jason, because I really do want to be a good wife. I genuinely WANT to make things easier on him and help things run as smoothly as possible, however, I am accepting more and more, that I am a lot of things, but Superwoman is not one of them....
Some days, I am a really great friend.... Being a great friend, often means that other areas may have been neglected... The house might not have been cleaned or straightened the way it would on a day when I was a great housekeeper/wife.... I used to wake up sometimes and ask Jason, "Is it more important to you that I am a good mom or a good housewife today," because I really felt like it was almost impossible to be both.... and I ONLY use the term "almost" because I know there will be all those "superwoman" mom's out there who will give me their perfect formula that makes them perfect at everything....
Folks, we are ALLLLL different in so many ways.... If we weren't, perhaps YOU would be married to my husband and I just might be married to yours.... but that's not the case.... there is something.... there are some thingsssss, that brought us to each other.... Do we look at how we can HELP our partners, rather than criticize them? Jason talks about this light in me that I had that was just so bright when we met.... he said it was so bright that it reflected OUTSIDE of me and onto everything I surrounded myself with.... I thought, "well that's holding me to a pretty high expectation... I'm not bright enough to shine light for EVERYONE!!!!" What was different from then and now? Well, I was alone then.... just Taylor and I.... I was just beginning to accept the things I did not like to do.... I did not like to cook.... I rotated a few different recipes around and "worked around" the other days... I didn't ever successfully deep clean the entire place at once so that I could enjoy the entire house, clean.... so I hired a cleaner.... she came every 2 weeks and I was so happy that I had such a nice, clean home... I was accepting my shortcomings.... well, some might call them shortcomings, I just call them my "I-don't-like-to-do-these-or-else-I'm-not-good-at-them" things.... Regardless, I found, what I like to call "work-arounds."
These days, I try to plan accordingly.... if there is something that absolutely HAS to be done that day, then I really try to muster up the strength, energy or whatever else is needed, to get the task done.... Then I think about what I feel like I would like to be doing, or where I feel I am needed the most.... At the end of the day, there are days the house is messy.... like, "throw-that-pile-of-papers-on-the-floor-so-you-can-sit-on-the-couch" messy.... At the end of that day, I likely wasn't a good housewife, or housekeeper, but you can bet, I was good at something else.... whether is be a good employee, or a great mom.... I was great at something else.... and so, from here on out, I have been reflecting on my accomplishments at the end of my days and praising what I WAS good at that day.... In the early portion of my days, I decide what I will be good at and I give all I've got to what I choose to be and then I free myself of the guilt for not being good at everything else.... You can have an immaculate house, but you may not have been the best mother that day, yelling at your kids to put away the toys they wanted to play with out in the living room.... You can acknowledge all of the wonderful things you are.... all of the roles you can carry.... and you can even choose which one you'd like to be.... you can choose what cape to wear that day... but remind yourself that of all the things that you are, superwoman (or superman) is not necessarily one of them.... Not all tasks can be completed, and all of the roles cannot be filled.... but you can most certainly remind yourself, with praise, what you WERE good at for that day... and know that tomorrow, when the sun rises, yet again, you will be given another chance to choose a different role with different responsibilities and it doesn't make you any less of a person...
Such a wonderful lesson to accept one's self.... I hope you will try this one for yourself, starting with today, or even yesterday! What were/are you good at? I bet you are just super at so much more than you give yourself credit for!!!!
Have a wonderful week everyone!!!!
Thursday, August 14, 2014
I haven't thought of a title for this "series" yet.... but I'll call this Part 1.
NOTE: My blog is not meant to put anyone down, to offend anyone, to hurt anyone's feelings.... Honestly, that is not what my intentions will ever be from here on out, however, I am fully aware that with this being MY blog (and my view on things, and how I feel about things), it will happen. For that, I really want to apologize in advance. The only way we experience things is from our point of view.... Sure, we can try to step outside of ourselves and simply imagine how something might make us feel, but we are doing just that.... we are only imagining, guessing, assuming that we know how someone else interprets their pain, love, happiness, sadness.... We all interpret things differently, and I'm going to hold onto that thought and continue to try my hardest to let go of what I do not understand, for it isn't mine to understand.....
I guess we all come from somewhere, no? We have a childhood.... a lifetime we remember and hold onto to process (usually at a much later time in life), and develop our own perception and feelings about things.... ultimately, it becomes our reality.... the way we think and believe things to be.... THAT, directly (and indirectly), affects the relationships we have with other people. Does that make any sense? I mean, we all remember our childhood and mainly by feelings.... the certain way things made us feel....
You see, that's the thing.... You never know how something, such as your actions, will impact someone or make them feel.... You never know how you are impacting your children or what someone may carry with them throughout life.... A child doesn't necessarily understand actions, but they know what they feel.... even if they can only express it as "good" or "bad," right? I have reallllly tried to explain things to the kids.... When we observe something together, or the kids observe something that they talk about, I make it a point to talk about it with them.... we try to talk it through together, and unless it is my own actions, I can't ever explain why someone does something that they do, but I still try to talk it through with them. This is very important to me that they learn, early on, not to take someone else's actions, personally.... I'll touch more on what I mean by this at a later time. I just feel that communication, ALLLLL around communication, is VITAL for people, including children, at all times of our life. I am fortunate for the communication my mom had with me, because with her upbringing, she could have not communicated in any way, or sought the help that she did, not only for herself, but for us as well.... I'm thankful for that.... and I really want to continue that help-seeking desire.... you know, the one that just keeps you continuing to seek improvements for yourself and for your children and relationships?
Anyhow....
The underlying issue is ultimately mine....
My entire life has been spent not being good enough to or for anyone.... yes, family included.... Perhaps, this is caused by an extremely high expectation or what being "good enough" for someone means.... Perhaps that all comes from how you think someone "would" or "should" treat you if you were, in fact, good enough....
What do I mean by "I wasn't good enough?" ....
From my point of view, this is how it has felt.... these are the things I guess I've always thought, which has led me to the assumption that I wasn't ever good enough.... Mom was a single mom. She had three daughters, 2 ex husbands (who didn't like to help), and her own mother who depended on her (and by dependent, I don't mean she was ill or disabled, I mean she just really depended and EXPECTED my mom to take care of her and help her). Take it back even further to Mom's childhood, where I won't go right now, and it seems almost justified that she wasn't the happiest person.
As MOST parents do, we have our moments... Overall, we feel an abundance of love and joy and would put our lives on the line for the ones we love, mainly our children.... There is a reason we continue to push through times that just feel hopeless for us.... Mom wasn't protected by her parents when she was younger. She vowed, from such an early age, to never, ever have her children feel unprotected.... That was what was the most important to her. She wanted us girls (my sisters and I) to have a high level self esteem. She wanted us to be confident. She wanted us to have stability, something she also never had.... So she worked, and she worked hard.... she maintained the same job from 18 years of age until she retired.... She even picked up a 2nd job when times were tough, because it meant we would stay in the same house for 21 or so years.... She built on an entire house on the back of our house, so that my grandmother (her dependent mother), could live with her and be financially stable.... Mom spent much of her entire life ENSURING that that very same woman, who failed to protect HER as a child, was taken care of.... NEVER going without ANYTHING she has EVER needed....
Now, I will say that Grandma has helped us ALL very much in her later adult years. Living in her own house in the back of our house, allowed her to help mom watch us, take us to school, pick us up sometimes, make us dinner.... she did help.... Though those memories are not all good ones, I am thankful she was there to help in the comfort of our own home, and that we didn't have to go to any other daycare or anywhere else... Grandma cooked a lot of our meals, because mom's hours were always different at work, but we always had mom's work number and she ALWAYS made herself available for and to us.... I KNOW we bugged her far more than my kiddos EVER would. (of course, we have entirely different technology now, like cell phones, etc).... Anyway.... I wasn't Grammy's favorite and that's okay for me now. I was the middle child. My older sister was the greatest thing because she was the oldest (as was my grandma in her set of siblings after her brother passed away at a very young age, so perhaps that is where the "oldest" connection came in).... and then there was my younger sister, who was adored by Grammy because "she was the baby and soooo cute." Funny, I don't resent her at all for being the baby and being soooo cute.... She was never overly spoiled and she was really quite dependent from a young age....
Grammy really helped her other daughter a lot. Mom and Auntie suffered a LOT as children.... they suffered through things I cannot even begin to fathom.... Two girls, went through very many of the same things together, and both handled things entirely different.... Now, like I've said, my blog is not a place meant to bash anyone or hurt anyone's feelings, though I am rather certain it will do one, if not both.... I am sorry for any offending or hurt feelings. These are not my intentions, but this IS my blog, and I don't want to sugarcoat how I feel about things or how I see them. This blog is just that.... how I view things.... how I see them.... and how I feel about them.... this says nothing about you or anyone else.... with that being said, let me go on.... Auntie headed down a path and she needed help. She needed lots of help from family and relatives and mom and Grammy helped a significant amount. I remember, when I was a lot younger, my Aunt coming and staying at my grandma's house in the back of ours.... She was just emotionally exhausted.... cried a lot.... I remember a few more specific things, but won't go into the details. I just remember feeling so helpless.... like there was nothing that I could do to help. I also remember sitting on the floor or at grammy's dining room table because auntie was laying on the couch, either watching TV or sleeping. If she was sleeping, then we had to be really quiet or just go home, so we wouldn't wake her... I remember grammy standing in the kitchen (after she'd just worked a full day at the hardware store (she worked full-time), cooking dinner for everyone.... Maybe she really enjoyed cooking, or perhaps, it was out of guilt for where she lacked in her earlier parenting years, but whatever reason, there she was....
I didn't fully appreciate her actions as a child because she wasn't very kind to me. She was fine. She didn't physically beat me or anything. She just wasn't very kind. My sisters would make stuff up and tell her and, without question or anything, she'd come knock me in the head with her knuckle. It wasn't abusive, truly, it wasn't, but it was enough to hurt and for me to feel angry with my sisters and my grandma (then) and think, "but I didn't even DO anything!!!!"
Whatever this is to some, it's just a glimpse in the past for me.... I wasn't able to process all of this as a child, but I held onto it. I guess I "put it in a pile to be sorted later," so-to-speak.... I observed the things that went on and I just held onto it and didn't think much about it, except how it made me feel and that there wasn't anything I could do, at that age, to make anything happen any differently than the way it was happening.... but I'd be damned if I didn't try.....
to be continued....
Monday, July 21, 2014
I go all in for you.
I go all in for you, friend.
to show you love, with great hopes,
that you'll feel inspired enough,
to pass the love on, you know....
I go all in for you, gram.
to be the strength that you need.
to be your ears that can hear,
and your hope when you plead....
I go all in for you, sis.
I thought you knew that by now,
to be the one you could trust,
to keep you going somehow....
I go all in for you, dad.
because you weren't around.
to know what kind of kid I was,
and who I am now....
I go all in for you, pup,
because I know you can't speak.
I know love and compassion,
are all that you seek....
I go all in for you, stranger.
because what do I know?
maybe just what I have,
is what you need to grow....
I go all in for you, all....
but when I come home,
the ones that mean the most,
are the ones I've left alone....
to show you love, with great hopes,
that you'll feel inspired enough,
to pass the love on, you know....
I go all in for you, gram.
to be the strength that you need.
to be your ears that can hear,
and your hope when you plead....
I go all in for you, sis.
I thought you knew that by now,
to be the one you could trust,
to keep you going somehow....
I go all in for you, dad.
because you weren't around.
to know what kind of kid I was,
and who I am now....
I go all in for you, pup,
because I know you can't speak.
I know love and compassion,
are all that you seek....
I go all in for you, stranger.
because what do I know?
maybe just what I have,
is what you need to grow....
I go all in for you, all....
but when I come home,
the ones that mean the most,
are the ones I've left alone....
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
So, it happened again....
Lots has happened these past few years... but there just hasn't been a whole lot that has moved me a whole lot.... Not enough to sit back down here, consistently, again.....
It was another normal day.... sitting at a desk.... preparing one chart, and another one comes in.... admitting one person, and another comes in.... printing lab results or medical records.... there's always something else to do, and you have very little time to be stopped in your tracks. There's one after the other and they just keep coming....
But every so often, there will be one that will stand out to you... One that stays on your mind far longer than you thought possible.... or the one that just brings you to tears....
I could feel my skin crawl.... it felt almost like chicken skin, but it also felt hot... and it didn't feel like it was on top of my skin, it felt like it was beneath my skin. I felt all fuzzy and like I could barely move....
She came in for a headache.
They're common, you know.... Headaches..... sometimes associated with high blood pressure and such....
Medical field usually does the whole process of elimination thing, right? You pick some tests and try to eliminate things that it is NOT, so that you can narrow down your choices to find out what it IS.... All doctors do things differently.
Well, I'm not sure who decided to do the MRI, but with that one test, an entire family's lives were completely flipped upside down....
There was a tumor....
For the quick moment in an entirely different department that is mostly happy times, the blow was devastating....
It's like the rest of the sounds around me were drowned out by the repetitive thoughts of the years before....
Folks used to ask me, "How do you do it? I couldn't ever do it."
You'd be surprised.... There is a lesson in everything....
Those folks don't just need us....
We need them just as much as they need us....
THEY shed light into our lives that we wouldn't see otherwise, unless WE were directly affected by cancer's ugly face....
THEIR lives are completely flipped upside down and inside out and I can only imagine the flood of thoughts that just come POURING in.... thoughts about their family members.... how long they have left... who they'll leave behind.... their kids.... Oh God, their kids.... their poor kids....
Don't get me wrong, I love what I do.... I do. Most of the time, there are happy moments, healthy moments, happy parents, happy families.... Moments of celebration, yes....
But there is also another place that I feel like I need to be.... I feel like they need me.... but even more than that, I just might need them more.... I look back at my writings from those years and find that life's blessings were more easily visible.... Life didn't feel like such work, but blessings. How wonderful it would be for everyone to feel that abundance of blessings again.....
May each and every one of you truly STOP....
Stop in your tracks.....
Look allllll around you.
Take in the sunshine and the beauty it reflects on so many other beautiful things.... like the paint on your car (you are blessed with a vehicle to get you around), the leaves, blowing in the breeze, the ocean water.... oh, the ocean water.....
Listen to the way your children talk to each other.... Be thankful they can both talk, even if it is to argue.... They can speak and they can understand and they feel.... they have feelings and emotions and a heart that beats....
I'm sitting under the ceiling fan in our bedroom.... sooo thankful for a home.... for a fan.... for a window that overlooks the bright sun shining on these beautiful trees, and my rain gutter planters that my incredible husband built for me because he knew how badly I wanted them....
I have been moved again.
Moved with passion....
I am moved....
May you be moved to the point of dreaming BIG.....
May you be moved enough to make a move....
I am genuinely sending out my love to you folks today....
My heart is so full....
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Epiphany: Turning away from the issue and to comfort. By then it's too late.... I'm done....
This post will likely not make sense... it sort of comes out of left field and though I normally like to lead in to something, that's not really how my brain works most of the time. Most of the time, it's all over the place. So here goes.
I've had a therapist for so many years; since I was about 11 years old. Though it hasn't always been the same one, it has been the same one since I was about 15, I think? I'd have any kind of issue and since I was able to drive (at 16), I could go in anytime I wanted or needed. I'd just drive myself. I didn't have to have anyone there with me. Mom let me go by myself, and I am so thankful for that. I think this started the habit of going to someone who WASN'T the issue and talking to my problem to them. This way it allowed me to get it all off my chest, without dealing with the crap that could or would arise from the actual person who pissed me off in the first place.
Let me go back about as far back as I can remember and start there....
When we were younger, my mom and stepdad (at that time, NOT PAT) would argue like cats and dogs. They were two terribly different people and they both were very protective of their own kids. It was a terrible clash of two personalities and they argued, pretty intensely, just about every weekend. Fortunately, we had a home built on in the back of our house and that is where my grandma lived. When they'd start arguing, we'd go out the back door and into grammy's front door and stay there while they argued. I am SO thankful that eventually they parted ways and mom vowed to never go through that crap again. Anyway.... they argued, and we could run to grammy's for "comfort" (for lack of a better word). I couldn't EVER talk to the stepfather. He just wasn't approachable and had zero communication skills. He was a good teacher if you wanted to learn to play backgammon.... or chess.... or if you wanted to just sit and watch a movie (he could watch movies for hours without ever speaking a word).... anyway.... any and all of the anger I'd ever had towards him was NEVER expressed directly towards him.... it was kinda stuffed down inside when I'd run to grammy's back house. She'd either turn the TV on, play games with us or cook us something to eat.... The bad was quickly covered up with that of comfort or "happiness," though the bad feelings didn't just magically disappear.... They were MASKED....
Mom was a single mom for most of our childhood years.... I KNOW how exhausting this can be.... she worked full time (and for some years, she worked SEVEN days a week).... she STILL somehow found time to clean, do laundry and care for us.... and make time for us to take vacations and such.... how difficult it must have been to have THREE children.... ALL girls.... constantly arguing with each other.... I would have pulled my hair out, for sure.... With that being said, she still managed to pay the bills, work on the house, and everything else it took to run a functioning home and maintain her job. Our house was beautiful. We'd won Lakewood's most beautiful one year.... She did a wonderful job at maintaining everything, and for the first time in my life, I understand why our home was so beautiful and well-kept. It is peaceful to work in the garden.... It is without kids fighting.... it's outside, in sunlight, and usually alone... which means, that, at least for a brief period of time, you just might find yourself lost in YOUR OWN THOUGHTS.... whatever they may be.... Most of my memories are filled with her understanding and willingness to help us fix our problems.... I can also say, that it wasn't always "the right time" to approach her or bring up a topic.... Not because she wouldn't allow it, but because there was so much going on all the time and I just wasn't fully in tune with how to bring up a topic.... I think I set my feelers out for her moods a lot of the time.... If she was in a bad mood, I felt like it was selfish to bring up something I wanted to bring up.... Of course, when we were little, we probably were so self-absorbed, that we paid no attention to anyone else's moods but our own....
There was a lot of pain and trouble understanding my father. He lived in San Francisco until I was about 7 years old (we lived in southern California).... So we saw him sometimes, but not as often as a child would most likely like to see their parent.... (assuming they adore their parents, that is)....
Well, I adored my dad. For whatever reasons, I adored him. He was the funniest person I knew.... He knew how to have fun with us. He really did....
Dad moved away to Tennessee with stepmom when I was 7. There are parts of that move that I distinctly recall.... I remember HELPING to pack boxes in his condo, and not fully understanding just how far he was moving away. I remember him showing me, on a map, where they'd be moving, and I remember him telling me over and over again how he'd still be seeing us often, just that he'd be further away and it would take a little longer to get to each other.... I remember him showing us pictures of his new home and without even seeing it, I knew I couldn't wait to see it.... until I did.
I loved his home in Tennessee.... I loved his home and I loved how fun he was, and I didn't pay much attention to everything else, but that.... that's what I tried to focus on and I think that even though there was pain (that I couldn't quite explain where it came from at the time), I pushed through it because I wanted to see and spend time with dad. He loved sweets. (that's where I got my love for sweets).... He also loved music. (Music is a HUGE part of my life).... He also loved cigarettes and beer.... and a woman....
Though I couldn't quite pinpoint the pain (at that time), I knew SOMETHING wasn't right.... guess who was there for THOSE feelings? Mom was.... mom was there.... for comfort, without judging, without prying, without anger or sadness or frustration... she'd listen to my little 7-year-old problems from then until this very day....
She'd try her very best to understand them and to figure out where they were coming from... and it was so comforting.... it was a breath of fresh air, because a lot of times, it felt like she hit the nail on the head.... even if i didn't know what it was, she seemed to know....
Fast forward to many years later, and I'm sitting in my therapist's office expressing or explaining situations that involve everyone but my therapist.... I can explain the situation or express my feelings without fear of the pushback.... I can cuss if I want.... I can say things to the people that I am uncertain of how they'd react.... In fact, I am not even hurting their feelings.... I am able to express myself without hurting anyone else's feelings.... This became a learned behavior, mostly in dealing with my dad and stepmom. I wasn't ever able to talk to them.... EVER.... I remember one time, in high school, when I'd called my dad. I was crying over a boy, and it was late in Tennessee. His answering machine had picked up and I was crying to the machine. He'd picked up the phone and was so upset at me for 1. calling him that late, 2. for crying on the machine, because, to him, nothing was really wrong, 3. scaring him and making him think that something really was wrong and 4. for crying over a boy.... he was angry.... They were angry.... and just as quickly as I'd thought it was a good idea to call him, it became very apparent what a terrible idea it was.... I'd hung up the phone feeling even worse than I did when I'd called....
What an epiphany I'd had this morning.... soooo extremely upset, I'd turned to google today instead of another human....
I googled, "how to deal with resentment" and found this blog entry from tinybuddha.com. It was everything I'd needed to read today....
to be continued....
I've had a therapist for so many years; since I was about 11 years old. Though it hasn't always been the same one, it has been the same one since I was about 15, I think? I'd have any kind of issue and since I was able to drive (at 16), I could go in anytime I wanted or needed. I'd just drive myself. I didn't have to have anyone there with me. Mom let me go by myself, and I am so thankful for that. I think this started the habit of going to someone who WASN'T the issue and talking to my problem to them. This way it allowed me to get it all off my chest, without dealing with the crap that could or would arise from the actual person who pissed me off in the first place.
Let me go back about as far back as I can remember and start there....
When we were younger, my mom and stepdad (at that time, NOT PAT) would argue like cats and dogs. They were two terribly different people and they both were very protective of their own kids. It was a terrible clash of two personalities and they argued, pretty intensely, just about every weekend. Fortunately, we had a home built on in the back of our house and that is where my grandma lived. When they'd start arguing, we'd go out the back door and into grammy's front door and stay there while they argued. I am SO thankful that eventually they parted ways and mom vowed to never go through that crap again. Anyway.... they argued, and we could run to grammy's for "comfort" (for lack of a better word). I couldn't EVER talk to the stepfather. He just wasn't approachable and had zero communication skills. He was a good teacher if you wanted to learn to play backgammon.... or chess.... or if you wanted to just sit and watch a movie (he could watch movies for hours without ever speaking a word).... anyway.... any and all of the anger I'd ever had towards him was NEVER expressed directly towards him.... it was kinda stuffed down inside when I'd run to grammy's back house. She'd either turn the TV on, play games with us or cook us something to eat.... The bad was quickly covered up with that of comfort or "happiness," though the bad feelings didn't just magically disappear.... They were MASKED....
Mom was a single mom for most of our childhood years.... I KNOW how exhausting this can be.... she worked full time (and for some years, she worked SEVEN days a week).... she STILL somehow found time to clean, do laundry and care for us.... and make time for us to take vacations and such.... how difficult it must have been to have THREE children.... ALL girls.... constantly arguing with each other.... I would have pulled my hair out, for sure.... With that being said, she still managed to pay the bills, work on the house, and everything else it took to run a functioning home and maintain her job. Our house was beautiful. We'd won Lakewood's most beautiful one year.... She did a wonderful job at maintaining everything, and for the first time in my life, I understand why our home was so beautiful and well-kept. It is peaceful to work in the garden.... It is without kids fighting.... it's outside, in sunlight, and usually alone... which means, that, at least for a brief period of time, you just might find yourself lost in YOUR OWN THOUGHTS.... whatever they may be.... Most of my memories are filled with her understanding and willingness to help us fix our problems.... I can also say, that it wasn't always "the right time" to approach her or bring up a topic.... Not because she wouldn't allow it, but because there was so much going on all the time and I just wasn't fully in tune with how to bring up a topic.... I think I set my feelers out for her moods a lot of the time.... If she was in a bad mood, I felt like it was selfish to bring up something I wanted to bring up.... Of course, when we were little, we probably were so self-absorbed, that we paid no attention to anyone else's moods but our own....
There was a lot of pain and trouble understanding my father. He lived in San Francisco until I was about 7 years old (we lived in southern California).... So we saw him sometimes, but not as often as a child would most likely like to see their parent.... (assuming they adore their parents, that is)....
Well, I adored my dad. For whatever reasons, I adored him. He was the funniest person I knew.... He knew how to have fun with us. He really did....
Dad moved away to Tennessee with stepmom when I was 7. There are parts of that move that I distinctly recall.... I remember HELPING to pack boxes in his condo, and not fully understanding just how far he was moving away. I remember him showing me, on a map, where they'd be moving, and I remember him telling me over and over again how he'd still be seeing us often, just that he'd be further away and it would take a little longer to get to each other.... I remember him showing us pictures of his new home and without even seeing it, I knew I couldn't wait to see it.... until I did.
I loved his home in Tennessee.... I loved his home and I loved how fun he was, and I didn't pay much attention to everything else, but that.... that's what I tried to focus on and I think that even though there was pain (that I couldn't quite explain where it came from at the time), I pushed through it because I wanted to see and spend time with dad. He loved sweets. (that's where I got my love for sweets).... He also loved music. (Music is a HUGE part of my life).... He also loved cigarettes and beer.... and a woman....
Though I couldn't quite pinpoint the pain (at that time), I knew SOMETHING wasn't right.... guess who was there for THOSE feelings? Mom was.... mom was there.... for comfort, without judging, without prying, without anger or sadness or frustration... she'd listen to my little 7-year-old problems from then until this very day....
She'd try her very best to understand them and to figure out where they were coming from... and it was so comforting.... it was a breath of fresh air, because a lot of times, it felt like she hit the nail on the head.... even if i didn't know what it was, she seemed to know....
Fast forward to many years later, and I'm sitting in my therapist's office expressing or explaining situations that involve everyone but my therapist.... I can explain the situation or express my feelings without fear of the pushback.... I can cuss if I want.... I can say things to the people that I am uncertain of how they'd react.... In fact, I am not even hurting their feelings.... I am able to express myself without hurting anyone else's feelings.... This became a learned behavior, mostly in dealing with my dad and stepmom. I wasn't ever able to talk to them.... EVER.... I remember one time, in high school, when I'd called my dad. I was crying over a boy, and it was late in Tennessee. His answering machine had picked up and I was crying to the machine. He'd picked up the phone and was so upset at me for 1. calling him that late, 2. for crying on the machine, because, to him, nothing was really wrong, 3. scaring him and making him think that something really was wrong and 4. for crying over a boy.... he was angry.... They were angry.... and just as quickly as I'd thought it was a good idea to call him, it became very apparent what a terrible idea it was.... I'd hung up the phone feeling even worse than I did when I'd called....
What an epiphany I'd had this morning.... soooo extremely upset, I'd turned to google today instead of another human....
I googled, "how to deal with resentment" and found this blog entry from tinybuddha.com. It was everything I'd needed to read today....
to be continued....
Monday, March 11, 2013
I silenced my blog from the world.
I almost forgot I did that.
It's safe to come here whenever I want again.
I'm thankful for that....
You know, this morning was the first morning I got myself out of bed, excited to work out.
I didn't even change out of my pajamas.
I wore my black wool socks that Jason got me as a Valentine's Day gift a few years back, a pair of drawstring pants I got right after Lewie was born, my white hanes t-shirt, my nikes and my pink zip up hoodie....
I threw on some deodorant, brushed my teeth and threw my hair into a ponytail.
My health isn't going to just find its way to me.... but I can sure start on finding my way to it!
I want to feel good!
I honestly don't know what makes me feel good, because everything I've ever thought makes me happy is outside of me....
Jason makes me happy.
The kids make me happy.
Love makes me happy.
Holding hands makes me happy.
Making other people happy, makes me happy.
But all of those things requires the actions of another person (minus that of love)....
If Jason is having a bad day, it can ruin my day too.
Same as the kids.
If Lewie isn/t listening well or into what I want to do, that can change my mood.
If I want to hold hands and connect and Jason isn't holding my hand "tight enough" or something isn't how I imagine it to be, I can feel upset inside, which affects how I act outside....
and I'm tired of that....
I'm tired of that always depending on everyone else....
I have honestly wondered why I have helped so many people and most of them, people I don't particularly have a close relationship with.... I don't help people so that they CAN help me back, I think that I help people because I want something to click and for them to WANT to help themselves.... I can remember some moments of clarity.... some ah-ha moments throughout my life that triggered my wanting to change.... I have hoped, that by continuously helping people as much as I can, that 1. I am doing my duty in being used by God to do as I "should" (even though I absolutely can't stand that word) 2. will help spark someone's desire to change and become this amazingly incredible lifesaving person as well.... and 3. will feel happy because i will be making other people happy (?)
The last one is totally far-fetched and just goes to show that, clearly, I haven't let go of expectations.... which I have been working on for years....
I remember some things from my therapist, Marie.... and they stick out like thorns on a rose bush. You can't ever forget them... I remember her telling me one time that your happiness cannot depend on someone else's actions.... They will fail you. They will hurt you. They will disappoint you and they will let you down.... if you put them on a pedastal, they will fall... and you will hurt....
It makes sense now.... a different kind of sense than what it made before....
Those bad days Jason sometimes has? Those days when Lewie isn't hearing anything I'm saying? Those times I have to ask Taylor 15 times to do the same thing, because she doesn't get up and do it the first time I ask her? My happiness has so heavily relied on the outcome of those things....
so today, after my long absence from blogging, I am going to try to pick up where I left off.... I am going to try to get everything out as it comes up and continue to move forward.... writing has always made me feel good.... perhaps it was the positive responses I would receive. I always loved coming on and finding blogger friends leaving comments, or people sending me emails about how they can completely relate to a post or something similar.... those moments move me.... but more than that, I free myself of all of the thoughts on repetition in my head.... It allows my mind more room to process OTHER thoughts and things more clearly....
Back to starting blogging all over again, again.... =)
Bear with this bumpy ride that's likely to be incredibly boring and full of emotions at times.... (well, in case I ever make this public again).
so long for now.... Disneyland has rides that aren't going to ride themselves.
I almost forgot I did that.
It's safe to come here whenever I want again.
I'm thankful for that....
You know, this morning was the first morning I got myself out of bed, excited to work out.
I didn't even change out of my pajamas.
I wore my black wool socks that Jason got me as a Valentine's Day gift a few years back, a pair of drawstring pants I got right after Lewie was born, my white hanes t-shirt, my nikes and my pink zip up hoodie....
I threw on some deodorant, brushed my teeth and threw my hair into a ponytail.
My health isn't going to just find its way to me.... but I can sure start on finding my way to it!
I want to feel good!
I honestly don't know what makes me feel good, because everything I've ever thought makes me happy is outside of me....
Jason makes me happy.
The kids make me happy.
Love makes me happy.
Holding hands makes me happy.
Making other people happy, makes me happy.
But all of those things requires the actions of another person (minus that of love)....
If Jason is having a bad day, it can ruin my day too.
Same as the kids.
If Lewie isn/t listening well or into what I want to do, that can change my mood.
If I want to hold hands and connect and Jason isn't holding my hand "tight enough" or something isn't how I imagine it to be, I can feel upset inside, which affects how I act outside....
and I'm tired of that....
I'm tired of that always depending on everyone else....
I have honestly wondered why I have helped so many people and most of them, people I don't particularly have a close relationship with.... I don't help people so that they CAN help me back, I think that I help people because I want something to click and for them to WANT to help themselves.... I can remember some moments of clarity.... some ah-ha moments throughout my life that triggered my wanting to change.... I have hoped, that by continuously helping people as much as I can, that 1. I am doing my duty in being used by God to do as I "should" (even though I absolutely can't stand that word) 2. will help spark someone's desire to change and become this amazingly incredible lifesaving person as well.... and 3. will feel happy because i will be making other people happy (?)
The last one is totally far-fetched and just goes to show that, clearly, I haven't let go of expectations.... which I have been working on for years....
I remember some things from my therapist, Marie.... and they stick out like thorns on a rose bush. You can't ever forget them... I remember her telling me one time that your happiness cannot depend on someone else's actions.... They will fail you. They will hurt you. They will disappoint you and they will let you down.... if you put them on a pedastal, they will fall... and you will hurt....
It makes sense now.... a different kind of sense than what it made before....
Those bad days Jason sometimes has? Those days when Lewie isn't hearing anything I'm saying? Those times I have to ask Taylor 15 times to do the same thing, because she doesn't get up and do it the first time I ask her? My happiness has so heavily relied on the outcome of those things....
so today, after my long absence from blogging, I am going to try to pick up where I left off.... I am going to try to get everything out as it comes up and continue to move forward.... writing has always made me feel good.... perhaps it was the positive responses I would receive. I always loved coming on and finding blogger friends leaving comments, or people sending me emails about how they can completely relate to a post or something similar.... those moments move me.... but more than that, I free myself of all of the thoughts on repetition in my head.... It allows my mind more room to process OTHER thoughts and things more clearly....
Back to starting blogging all over again, again.... =)
Bear with this bumpy ride that's likely to be incredibly boring and full of emotions at times.... (well, in case I ever make this public again).
so long for now.... Disneyland has rides that aren't going to ride themselves.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Happy Birthday to my beautiful mother-in-law.... I wish you were here.
Today is my mother-in-law's birthday, however, she passed away in 2001, 7 years before Jason and I were married. (for those of you who have followed a little bit longer, you know the history between her and my mom and them being friends when THEY were in middle school.... lots more history there). I only wish she were around today.... I know she would just love the kids so, so much....
We started off the trip with a pitstop to costco. They have better bouquets than the flower shop at the cemetery. Lewie picked the flowers out, and carefully chose this specific one because of the pink gerbera (?) daisy. He said, "Pick me up mom so I can see all of 'em." Then he wanted me to put him back down and he chose this bouquet.
(this was at our wedding, where she would have been sitting had she still been alive)
We started off the trip with a pitstop to costco. They have better bouquets than the flower shop at the cemetery. Lewie picked the flowers out, and carefully chose this specific one because of the pink gerbera (?) daisy. He said, "Pick me up mom so I can see all of 'em." Then he wanted me to put him back down and he chose this bouquet.
He was pretty proud of his selection.
My babies. I love them so, so much!
I had tried explaining, the very best I could, to Lewie, about Grandma Marion. I didn't think (and I still don't think) that he fully understood what I was trying to explain. I left it pretty simple. I didn't cry or show a lot of emotion or anything. However, when we left, he was sniffling..... and continued sniffling for about 30 minutes. When I had asked him (after about 5 minutes of sniffling), "What's wrong, buddy?" He said, "Grandma Marion's gone, mom. We can't leave her there. Grandma Marion's gone." I didn't DARE let him see my eyes get watery. I just thought it was pretty interesting that his thoughts went there when I didn't go into detail much about it. When we got home, he had asked Jason, "Does Grandma Marion talk?" =(
These girls.... Tay and her good friend, Sam came up with a wonderful idea while we were at the cemetary today.... I'll touch on that again soon.... I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your week!
He sang her Happy Birthday at least 5 times.... Love him so much....
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