My favorite uncle passed away rather suddenly last Friday. I spent two days in ICU with my family while he was on a ventilator. He and his twin brother were only 7 years older than me and we spent a lot of time together growing up. They taught me to ride a bike, walk on stilts, put a worm on a hook, shoot a BB gun. You know, all those important things a girl needs to know. I will miss him terribly but feel blessed to have such wonderful memories of spending summers and holidays with them.
My uncle was an alcoholic. He drank everyday since he was 18 years old. Suprisingly, his liver was not damaged terribly and while I am sure his drinking contributed to his inability to fight off the infection that killed him, it was not the primary cause of death. I guess it seldom really is.
It is uncanny that my son should call today, the day of the funeral, to tell me he can't make it where he is anymore. He says he is not getting paid from his job, may be homeless soon, etc. but that he is trying soooo hard to make it. I think this is the chorus of a song that I have heard so many times before.
I am so tired today. I need to get off the merry-go-round for a little while.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Killing the Fatted Calf
If you guys remember your Sunday school lessons you will know the story of the Prodigal Son. The boy took everything his father could give him and took off into the world on his own, doing everything his way. After he lost everything he decided to come home.
His father saw him coming up the road, unshaven, dirty and undernourished and went to him and embraced him and welcomed him home. He ordered the servants to bring him clothes and to kill the biggest calf so that they could have a party to celebrate his return.
My son was in the state over the weekend and called the night before last to ask if I could help him see his son. The stipulation on my part is that he had to work it out with his son's mom, not show up until I was home from work, he had to be sober, he was not to ask for money when he got there and he was not allowed to spend the night at the house or on the property.
I didn't offer him food, drink, clothing or place to sleep. While I was glad to see that he is alive and was happy that he was sober while there, I was really not happy to see him. If that makes sense at all. I was tense the whole time he was there and was ready for him to leave after about 30 minutes. He stayed about an hour and a half.
I pray to get to the point that I want to throw a party when my son comes to my house. I want to cook all his favorite foods and enjoy his company and ask questions about his life. I want him to feel welcome. I want to watch my grandson play with his dad like he knows that he will see him very soon instead of like he has to get in all his playing in a couple of hours because who knows when he will see his daddy again.
It sorted reminded me of someone giving a kid an ice cream cone letting him have a few licks and then taking it away. My heart broke when I watched my grandson clutch his dad when it was time for my son to leave.
Ugh! It is just easier to deal with when he stays away.
Praying for yours and mine today.
His father saw him coming up the road, unshaven, dirty and undernourished and went to him and embraced him and welcomed him home. He ordered the servants to bring him clothes and to kill the biggest calf so that they could have a party to celebrate his return.
My son was in the state over the weekend and called the night before last to ask if I could help him see his son. The stipulation on my part is that he had to work it out with his son's mom, not show up until I was home from work, he had to be sober, he was not to ask for money when he got there and he was not allowed to spend the night at the house or on the property.
I didn't offer him food, drink, clothing or place to sleep. While I was glad to see that he is alive and was happy that he was sober while there, I was really not happy to see him. If that makes sense at all. I was tense the whole time he was there and was ready for him to leave after about 30 minutes. He stayed about an hour and a half.
I pray to get to the point that I want to throw a party when my son comes to my house. I want to cook all his favorite foods and enjoy his company and ask questions about his life. I want him to feel welcome. I want to watch my grandson play with his dad like he knows that he will see him very soon instead of like he has to get in all his playing in a couple of hours because who knows when he will see his daddy again.
It sorted reminded me of someone giving a kid an ice cream cone letting him have a few licks and then taking it away. My heart broke when I watched my grandson clutch his dad when it was time for my son to leave.
Ugh! It is just easier to deal with when he stays away.
Praying for yours and mine today.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Does anyone else do this?
Sometimes I glance up at the clock on my computer at the 10:13 and think, "That's my son's birthday". He was born on October 13, 1988. You would think that was a Friday with all the misadventures he has had in his life, but it was a beautiful, cool, crisp, Thursday morning. He weighed 7 lbs and 15 oz. and was the most beautiful new born I'd ever seen.
He was born with a bowel obstruction and had to have some tests done and I couldn't see him for more than 12 hours after he was born. I remember calling and asking the nurse to bring him to me several times. He was fine and didn't require surgery and we actually ended up going home the next day.
He grew into a vivacious, active, inquisitive beautiful toddler. His grade school years were tough because he had a hard time sitting still and paying attention. We had numerous conferences with his various teachers. When he was in the 4th grade his teacher told us he was a "delight" to have in her class. I profusely thanked the teacher with tears in my eyes....she must have thought I was nuts. Little did she know. ;-)
Middle school was hell for us all. He really got in to being the "cool" guy and doing school work was not cool. His teachers loved him but he just wouldn't do what needed to be done to get good grades. They all said he was capable. One teacher suggested I show up and spend the day at school in his classrooms and follow him through his day. He was mortified when I showed up and took my seat in his first morning class. His friends all thought it was "cool" that I was there and by lunch time he was asking me to sit with him in the cafeteria! Go figure!
Jr. High and through the tenth grade....well, he might as well not showed up at all. He ended up leaving school mid term of the 11th grade and getting his GED. He yelled at me one time and asked why I didn't make him go to school. I told him other than chain myself to him and drag him from class to class I did everything I knew to do. I dropped him off at the front door and he would walk out the back door.
Anyway, I just glanced at the clock and it is 10:13. I sure do miss my little boy.
Wishing us all peace today.
He was born with a bowel obstruction and had to have some tests done and I couldn't see him for more than 12 hours after he was born. I remember calling and asking the nurse to bring him to me several times. He was fine and didn't require surgery and we actually ended up going home the next day.
He grew into a vivacious, active, inquisitive beautiful toddler. His grade school years were tough because he had a hard time sitting still and paying attention. We had numerous conferences with his various teachers. When he was in the 4th grade his teacher told us he was a "delight" to have in her class. I profusely thanked the teacher with tears in my eyes....she must have thought I was nuts. Little did she know. ;-)
Middle school was hell for us all. He really got in to being the "cool" guy and doing school work was not cool. His teachers loved him but he just wouldn't do what needed to be done to get good grades. They all said he was capable. One teacher suggested I show up and spend the day at school in his classrooms and follow him through his day. He was mortified when I showed up and took my seat in his first morning class. His friends all thought it was "cool" that I was there and by lunch time he was asking me to sit with him in the cafeteria! Go figure!
Jr. High and through the tenth grade....well, he might as well not showed up at all. He ended up leaving school mid term of the 11th grade and getting his GED. He yelled at me one time and asked why I didn't make him go to school. I told him other than chain myself to him and drag him from class to class I did everything I knew to do. I dropped him off at the front door and he would walk out the back door.
Anyway, I just glanced at the clock and it is 10:13. I sure do miss my little boy.
Wishing us all peace today.
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