Thursday, November 10, 2016

Rainy Days and Mondays

This song came on the "70s on 7" radio station in my car. "70s on 7" was Mom's favorite station. When she was alive, and I would be driving alone, I would sometimes turn on that channel, just to remind me of her. We listened to the 70s station almost all the way to Chicago on our most recent road trip, and always listened to it on the way down to Cincinnati for our mom and daughter road trips. She would sing along with almost every song and dance to it.

A week ago, I turned on the station for the first time since Mom passed, and this song came on:



It was perfect that it was a rainy day, but it wasn't a Monday. The Carpenters were one of Mom's favorites. She knew the words to almost all of their songs, and had their music at home. Oddly enough, I think her favorite CD of theirs was their Christmas CD. It's such a classic in our house that the case is falling apart, and the inside pamphlet is missing.


I cried all the way home listening to it. I got home, sat in our driveway, and cried.

I cry a lot now. A lot more than I ever have. I surprise myself daily with just how many tears I can produce, even after days of crying.

I became curious recently and looked up the stages of grief. I saw that many articles were not about the stages themselves, but more that they were fictitious, and that the "creator" of them didn't mean for everyone to take them so literally. But I have to disagree.

The stages of grief are very real. I know. I'm experiencing them right now. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance are all a part of my daily life.

In my previous post, I talked about the immediate emotions I had after the doctor told us the news. What I didn't discuss was what happened as the doctor came into the room.

The doctor walked into the room and sat opposite my dad. I sat on my dad's left, and Brother on Dad's right. When the doctor sat, he sighed. My instant reaction: ok. prepare for the worst. "we got her, but it's not good. she'll be a vegetable" (Mom NEVER wanted that--she was too social/active). The nurse, who had been with us from the beginning of the morning, and was so kind and instantly loved Mom as a patient, came in with tears streaming down her face. My second reaction: That's kind of weird. I've never seen nurses cry before over a patient. ER nurses have probably seen the worst. Unless she...

I swiftly covered my ears and loudly said, "No. No I don't want to hear it. Please. Don't say it. I can't. I just can't deal with it. No!" The doctor waited patiently for me, and then broke the news.

Denial. In its ugliest form. I look back at that and feel so sorry for the doctor, who had a grown adult woman screaming in his ear.

Anger. I am still in that stage. Everyday, I talk to God. No, I'm sorry...I don't talk to God. I yell at him. I spew out harsh words in my head, all aimed right at Him.

Why would you do this?
What the he** is wrong with you?
Is killing people something you like to do?
Do you enjoy seeing me cry so much? Seeing me so broken?
Every time one of Dad's siblings died, I saw a piece of his heart break. Now, his father dies, and a larger piece of his heart breaks. Granddad was so important to Dad. Then, you kill his wife. His soul mate. Now his heart is completely shattered. Do you enjoy this, God? Are you happy? Does this make you feel good, like you're in charge, and people better not forget it? So you'll show us by killing off our family members?
Does it feel good, pushing already religious people to the brink, to where they wish they could be dead so they could be with their loved ones?

He never answers. And He never will, until I get up there. I had a terrible dream where I reached Heaven, and I was walking with God to the pearly gates, and I finally said, "Why?" His response: *shrugs* "I don't know..." *facepalm*

Depression. Hard to get to or out of that stage, especially when you have already been diagnosed with depression and are taking medications for it...

Bargaining. I have sort of gone through this, and sort of not. I don't bargain for Mom's life. I know she's not coming back. I do wish I would have passed instead of her, as she had her whole retirement and golden years ahead of her to spend with Dad. I know Dad goes through this daily: "Maybe if I had been more affectionate or loving, God would have spared her." It hurts because I want to help him, but I'm angry with God, so my only response is, "God doesn't care anymore. He does whatever He wants, and doesn't care of the consequences." And then Dad is more depressed.

Acceptance. I refuse it. I REFUSE to accept her death right now. She was young, compassionate, extremely intelligent, funny, loving, warm, gracious, and above all, lived a religious life with HUMILITY. One of the most recent Bible readings was about an "eye for an eye". The passage states that if any should strike you on the right cheek, turn and present the other, or don't let someone goad you into an event that could become evil in nature. Mom was a living example of that--people talked bad about her (and to her) all the time. I know. I have heard much of it. And do you know what Mom did? She told me that it was more important to just let others talk and to not argue or fight with them because that would accomplish nothing and make both involved have a bad day. She didn't like holding grudges, because "...why hold grudges with others when I am so happy being with my family?"

So why does God think it's ok to take someone who follows in Jesus' path?

Anger. So much anger. And I apologize for this post being mostly anger, but it's just the way I feel now.

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.




Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Grief....

Wow. I have not written on here in a long time...and I know I've said that before, and, heck--I may even say it again. I haven't written since the beginning of the year because, to be honest, it's been a whirlwind of a year. So far, I have done 3 musicals, which would SEEM low since last year I did 6 (?). However, I have decided to take a break from musicals for reasons that will be explained later in this post.

All year, my grandfather (Dad's dad) has been in and out of the hospital, sick with all kinds of problems. On Palm Sunday (near mid-March), his heart dropped to 10 bpm, but hospital staff were able to take care of him. All summer, he was in and out of the hospital, and finally, on August 28th, he passed peacefully in his home surrounded by immediate family.

Sad. So sad. My dad lost his father. And even though I can't imagine losing my father (especially now...details later), my Granddad was ready to go (at 95 and having a low quality of life, wouldn't you be ready?). Now, my family takes care of my Nana (93), visiting her nearly everyday, getting anything she needs, and helping her around the house.

I have always been and always will be so grateful for having known a perfect role model of a gentleman for 26 years. Many people don't get nearly that many good-quality years to spend with grandparents. Our family was truly blessed to have him and my Nana around for so long.

While my Dad copes with losing his father, my mom has been helping my Nana out as much as possible. But then...and here's where I will explain everything I said would earlier.

I hate typing this...just thought I would let you know.

Preface:

My mom was diagnosed very recently with "atrial fibrillation", a.k.a. palpitations of the heart that are rapid and irregular. When she asked the doctors if it would be a serious problem, she was told that no, it would not be serious, and that she would just need to listen to her heart, and relax with deep breaths when it started racing.

So, every few weeks, or even months, my mom would sit in her chair in the den, close her eyes, and breathe calmly in and out. Then we knew she was having a moment of "a fib".
Back to now:

On September 9, Mom and I were sleeping in the den, she in her chair and I on the couch (thanks, sinus gunk). I awoke at 3:35 to Mom getting extremely sick in the bathroom (she never gets physically sick...it just doesn't happen). I sit up and ask her if she's OK. She responds that something's wrong and she's been up sick for an hour and can't stop getting sick. She tells me to go back to sleep, so I do for 2 minutes. After 2 minutes, I wake up again and she's sick again. She says the chills are coming on and she has a headache. She sits under the blanket, but has to go to the bathroom again. Finally, we both move out to the kitchen, where she lastly says, "I've got the chills, headache, upset stomach... (Uh-oh! I think...Dad was sick last night after eating something...food poisoning?!)...and I just have this tightness in my chest." My chest goes tight.

I get Mom to the ER by 4:30.

What was Mom's concern in the er?
"Mom, stop. We've cancelled all your subbing days. We've got you covered, Mom. We've got you."

Work. That was her big concern.

Finally, around 7 AM, the doctor updates us.

"We did all we could, CPR for 30 minutes straight. Her heart completely stopped. We couldn't save her. I am so sorry."

My heart drops, my stomach clenches, I start seeing spots. Brother and Dad scream, I scream. We sit there wrenching out sobs while the doctor waits. I sit there numb with shock. We are told 15 minutes later we can go in to say good-bye. We walk in and say our separate good-byes. I open the curtain and have to say good-bye to my best friend, my mentor, my confidant, my #1 fan, my Mother, my Mom, my Mommy. My Momma.

How. How do I do this? How do I sum up a lifetime of regrets? Of love? Of sadness? Of happiness? Of anger? Of memories? I stroke her cheek, tell her that I'm so sorry I couldn't save her, that I love her, and that I know she knows that. I just keep repeating...I love you Momma. I love you Momma. I love you. Please come back. Don't leave me.

This wouldn't be so hard if Mom and I hadn't become so close, especially in the last month. I had taken her on a Mom/daughter road trip to Chicago, where we had connected over some wonderful talks about how much we loved and admired each other.

......I just don't know what else to say. I guess that's it. I'll leave it with some quotes that sum up how I feel:
















Thursday, January 14, 2016

Happy New Year

Happy New Year!! Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season. Mine was...good...not great, but good. My family was SO busy up until Christmas Eve that, at least in my opinion, we couldn't enjoy the holidays like we normally do.

Christmas is such a special time of the year for me, and no, it's not because we get free gifts and eat tons of cookies. The Christmas season is my FAVORITE season of the year. In my mind, nothing compares to it. It seems like everyone is happier during the Christmas season. Carolers sing carols, people are kinder to one another, and the world's biggest problems appear to drift away while we celebrate "the most wonderful time of the year". And yes, the cookies help, as do the presents, family time, decorations, and songs (almost half of my music library is Christmas music). But mostly, it's the spirit of the season that makes me enjoy it so much.

This year, though, was different. Yes, I felt happy during the Christmas season, but I was busy with show rehearsals at night, and trying to clean the house/bake cookies/get out decorations during the day, that when the show ended on the 20th, I booked it like crazy to try to get Christmas "up" in our house in 4 days for company on Christmas Eve, but it was impossible. And the ONE room in the entire house that I LOVED decorating, where some of my favorite decorations go--MY room--couldn't even get decorated until after Christmas because I focused my attention on our common rooms downstairs. So, unfortunately, I didn't get into the spirit of the season as much as I like to.

However, I did get some really nice presents, including the first season of "The Office", a new book, a new healthy cookbook, and a new regular size Tarte mascara (I was using a sample size but told my mom I was using it sparingly because I couldn't afford it ("drugstore brand" makeup is usually what I buy), so she bought the mascara full-size!


With a new year comes new goals, and here are my goals for the week:

1.) Drink all diet pop

2.) Walk 1x/wk for 15 minutes

3.) Track mood daily

4.) Get to gym 1x/wk

See you Sunday!