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.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Life Goes On
On the 26th day of May 26 years ago my brother was killed in an automobile accident. He was 16 years old and had a 16 year old friend in the car with him. The friend was killed as too. A small community, where everyone knows everyone, lost two young men in a matter of seconds. Two families lost a piece of their heart. Two families will forever have an empty spot at the table on holidays.
They weren't where they were supposed to be. My brother told my mom that he was just going a mile up the road to watch movies with his friend. He was supposed to be home by midnight. He never made it back.
A police officer came to my families home and told my mother that her son had been killed.
I was married and living 4 hours away and was planning to leave that day to go visit my family to celebrate Memorial Day. The phone call came at 4 a.m. I answered the phone and my then 18 year old sister asked to speak to my husband. It didn't occur to me at that moment to consider something could be wrong. I remember clearly my husband walking down the hallway in the tiny trailer we lived in on campus telling me he needed to tell me something. I immediately asked if it was my dad...my mom? When he told me it was my brother I fell to my knees. The landscape of my family changed forever that day.
It was a head on collision. The guys in the other car were injured and hosptialized. My brother's funeral was the day before his friend's funeral. My sister graduated valdictorian of her senior class 3 days later. My parents fell apart and were pretty much absent for a few years.
Life has a way of moving forward regardless of death. My family has grown. My remaining 4 siblings married and have children. My parents are the grandparents of 11 grandchildren and one great grandchild. There is still an empty spot at the table on holidays. That space will never be filled.
My brother and his friend were killed by a drunk driver. Two young men died needlessly. Their families forever deprived of their prescence.
The driver of the car, my brother, made a poor choice that night. A choice that hurts still today.
Peace and hope to us all!
They weren't where they were supposed to be. My brother told my mom that he was just going a mile up the road to watch movies with his friend. He was supposed to be home by midnight. He never made it back.
A police officer came to my families home and told my mother that her son had been killed.
I was married and living 4 hours away and was planning to leave that day to go visit my family to celebrate Memorial Day. The phone call came at 4 a.m. I answered the phone and my then 18 year old sister asked to speak to my husband. It didn't occur to me at that moment to consider something could be wrong. I remember clearly my husband walking down the hallway in the tiny trailer we lived in on campus telling me he needed to tell me something. I immediately asked if it was my dad...my mom? When he told me it was my brother I fell to my knees. The landscape of my family changed forever that day.
It was a head on collision. The guys in the other car were injured and hosptialized. My brother's funeral was the day before his friend's funeral. My sister graduated valdictorian of her senior class 3 days later. My parents fell apart and were pretty much absent for a few years.
Life has a way of moving forward regardless of death. My family has grown. My remaining 4 siblings married and have children. My parents are the grandparents of 11 grandchildren and one great grandchild. There is still an empty spot at the table on holidays. That space will never be filled.
My brother and his friend were killed by a drunk driver. Two young men died needlessly. Their families forever deprived of their prescence.
The driver of the car, my brother, made a poor choice that night. A choice that hurts still today.
Peace and hope to us all!
Friday, May 18, 2012
Another one of THOSE days
I feel like I cope well most days lately. I have re-learned how good it is to laugh....I mean really laugh until my stomach muscles hurt. Taking time to leave my desk at work and go walk through the rose gardens that I can see from my window is a treat I allow myself. Most days letting go of the notion that I have control of anything but myself gets easier. So, I feel like I am in a much better place overall.
On Wednesday evening of this week a calling card from a warrant officer was left in my front door. Right before my son left the state he was cited for 3 counts of paraphernalia and was given a court date, of course he didn't go. Now he has a failure to appear. I have know this for weeks and have been able to let it go. Somehow, seeing that card brought the world crashing around me. I'm not sure why. I started thinking about how unfair it is that I have an addicted son, how I have police officers leaving their cards at my house, how I know more about drug addiction than I ever thought possible. I know what addiction looks like, smells like and the damage it does to everyone and everything it touches.
I am suspicious of everything. The other day I saw a little baggie on the driveway. I automatically assumed it was used to hold drugs. I could feel my blood pressure rise and my anxiety level sky rocket. I picked it up and it contained four little screws that must have fallen out of my husband's truck. All of that energy spent on nothing.
I am working on getting to a more level place. I feel better today but still feeling a little anxious. I keep reminding myself that there is hope, my son is alive today, so there is hope.
My grandson is coming tomorrow for the weekend. We plan to get him in the pool for the first time this year. He loved it last year, I hope he will this year too. I think after I get that little curly headed kiddo in my arms all will be right in my world again.
Prayers for us all today!
On Wednesday evening of this week a calling card from a warrant officer was left in my front door. Right before my son left the state he was cited for 3 counts of paraphernalia and was given a court date, of course he didn't go. Now he has a failure to appear. I have know this for weeks and have been able to let it go. Somehow, seeing that card brought the world crashing around me. I'm not sure why. I started thinking about how unfair it is that I have an addicted son, how I have police officers leaving their cards at my house, how I know more about drug addiction than I ever thought possible. I know what addiction looks like, smells like and the damage it does to everyone and everything it touches.
I am suspicious of everything. The other day I saw a little baggie on the driveway. I automatically assumed it was used to hold drugs. I could feel my blood pressure rise and my anxiety level sky rocket. I picked it up and it contained four little screws that must have fallen out of my husband's truck. All of that energy spent on nothing.
I am working on getting to a more level place. I feel better today but still feeling a little anxious. I keep reminding myself that there is hope, my son is alive today, so there is hope.
My grandson is coming tomorrow for the weekend. We plan to get him in the pool for the first time this year. He loved it last year, I hope he will this year too. I think after I get that little curly headed kiddo in my arms all will be right in my world again.
Prayers for us all today!
Thursday, May 10, 2012
A Little More Cow Bell Makes Everything Cool!
I was just the Granny tonight and it was AWESOME! We ran and yelled and screamed. We ate mac and cheese and chicken nuggets. There was broccoli too, just to be on the safe side. I let him brush his own teeth, except the molars. Then two hours later his mom came to get him. Yea, ME!
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Crazy Town: The previous generation.
My husband I were both raised in similar but opposite environments. We were both raised on Insanity Island just on different sides. He is an only child, I am the oldest of 6. His mother and father fought violently throughout their marriage. Sometimes he became the victim of that. He witnessed things that no child should have to witness. I never saw my parents fight but sometimes became the victim of my father's anger non-the-less. My parents were never home. His were home but they were never "there". He lived in the same clean, well kept home is entire life. We lived in random rent houses and then a trailer that my parents bought and then let fall apart around us.
The common thread between us is that we both would have been taken into protective custody by today's standards.
I know now that mine did the very best that they could. I don't blame them for any wrong doing. I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for them.
My husband's parents have been married 54 years, and are getting a divorce. My mother-in-law filed last week after my father-in-law hit her in the face with his elbow because she wasn't holding the wall paper they were putting up to suit him. They are both well into their 70's and my mother-in-law has finally had enough of his verbal and physical abuse. Of course they have both involved my husband in all of this insanity. He is doing really well about not taking sides but is getting multiple phone calls a day from his dad who doesn't quite understand why she left.
My parents are on a Navajo Reservation where my mom is working as a nurse. She hates nursing but loves the culture of the people there. My dad is in his early 70's and in poor health but won't admit it. My mom is 68 and has always done whatever it took to get through. They are there because they didn't plan well for retirement.
My in-laws on the other hand have done nothing but plan for retirement their whole lives.
I hope my husband and I fall in the middle somewhere. Hell, I hope my husband and I don't break under the constant pull from someome who needs something from us all the freakin time.
Don't know what this has to do with anything. I just needed to get it out.
Still praying for us all.
The common thread between us is that we both would have been taken into protective custody by today's standards.
I know now that mine did the very best that they could. I don't blame them for any wrong doing. I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for them.
My husband's parents have been married 54 years, and are getting a divorce. My mother-in-law filed last week after my father-in-law hit her in the face with his elbow because she wasn't holding the wall paper they were putting up to suit him. They are both well into their 70's and my mother-in-law has finally had enough of his verbal and physical abuse. Of course they have both involved my husband in all of this insanity. He is doing really well about not taking sides but is getting multiple phone calls a day from his dad who doesn't quite understand why she left.
My parents are on a Navajo Reservation where my mom is working as a nurse. She hates nursing but loves the culture of the people there. My dad is in his early 70's and in poor health but won't admit it. My mom is 68 and has always done whatever it took to get through. They are there because they didn't plan well for retirement.
My in-laws on the other hand have done nothing but plan for retirement their whole lives.
I hope my husband and I fall in the middle somewhere. Hell, I hope my husband and I don't break under the constant pull from someome who needs something from us all the freakin time.
Don't know what this has to do with anything. I just needed to get it out.
Still praying for us all.
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