I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone

I didn't realize it had been so long since I posted anything for myself.  I have to admit that I am leary about anyone else reading these musings, but time will tell. 

My mother is still a stroke survivor, and her therapy is moving forward, as well has her mood swings.

I've survived my 3rd Father's Day since my father's death, and I still believe each year it will get easier to accept he's gone.  I don't miss him any less, but I can get out of bed and function through the day, even though I may be sadder than usual.  This Father's Day was full of drama caused by my mother's mood swings.  For some odd reason, she picked Father's Day to blast me with one of her tirrads, this one being centered on my never ending love of my father.  "You've loved the ground he walked on for 40 years, why should it change now", some how implying that loving him means I can't love her as well.  Thank God again for the wonderous powers of pills and prayer.

The day end with a call to 911 and my mother returning to the hospital for a few days due to having a stroke related "episode" (can we say "Bad Karma").  She spent 3 days in the hospital, which was the best place for her, especially with what occured next....her older sister, had a massive stroke that Monday and passed away.  It was a very hard week for my mother, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my children and myself.  But we'll get past it....this is not our life, it was just one day in it.

We all get caught up in our grief and see only the pain of the moment, we don't see the reality of it.  All we could see is that a family member had died, she was no longer with us.  We couldn't see the healing that had taken place in her life. She would not suffer the life altering impact a massive stroke can have on the human body, she would not suffer the depressing months of painful therapy and painful healing.  Its hard for those of us left behind the understand that her death healed all of that.

It took a little time, but I can see it clearly now.

Sticks and Stones

For the first time since my mother had her stroke, but not the first time in 44 years, her words made me cry.  I'm not an overly emotional 14 year old, I'm a very tired 44 year old.  I have not had a good nights sleep in months. I have been at her beck and call, jumping at every moan and groan, fixing meals, cleaning house, changing sheets, wiping up spills, dispersing drugs, getting up at 5am, laying down (but not sleeping) at 1am.  I'm not doing it for any recognition, not doing it for any praise, not doing it for any monetary reward.  I'm doing it because she is my mother.

But today, she told me I was too impatient to care for her.  It was a shock to hear that the only person who has been with her day and night for months, is not up to her expectations.  As much as I tried not to have it impact me, as much as I know its a result of the stroke and the pain, it hurt.  And as soon as I had finished dressing and feeding her, I left the room and cried.  Not grown up martyr tears that slide cool and quietly down your face,  but the deep heavy tears of a hurt child, hot and sobbing.

But I remind myself, this is not my life....this is just Wednesday, May 11, 2011.

Time Passes

My father would have been 71 years old this year, but we just experienced the 2nd anniversary of his death, instead of celebrating his birthday.  Its been a difficult couple of weeks since his birthday and his death were just a few days apart.  My mother has spent a lot of time reminiscing about him, and I've heard stories about their courtship I've never heard before.  Its been a painful learning experience.

I am definitely a daddy's girl, even when I reached my forties, and had been married and divorced and the mother of two teenagers, I was still "Little Girl" to him.  I miss him.

I Know I've Been Changed

It's been 53 days since my mother suffered her stroke, 53 days since her life changed, 53 days since she changed.  My mother was always a very reserved quiet person.  Almost secretive, even when dealing with her sisters.  But post stroke, she is a chatterbox, she literally talks non-stop, even if the person she is speaking too has left the room.

It's an interesting change that everyone, except my mother, finds enjoyable.  She has trouble with the lack of control.  But that's what the stroke did, it took away the control she had over her life and the control I had over mine.

Pre-stroke, I considered myself to be ambitious and driven, but life has a way of putting you in your place, putting you back in order, putting you back on track.  To make a long story shorter (if possible), I had lost a great deal of my drive and passion.  My work became WORK, and I hated it and the demon I worked for.  My "boss" was the definition of toxic....evil, spiteful, biased, rude, arrogant, and clueless to her own faults.  Please, don't get me wrong, I've worked for both men and women, they both have their pros and cons, but this woman was the worst of both worlds.  The only way we got along was when my behavior mirrored the horror of hers.  Only problem was that I was not willing to become her for a pay check.  You know, that whole comprising my  integrity thing.

Sorry, but I don't believe you have to be hated and feared by your staff to be effective.  A N Y W A Y.....eventually I hit my limit, but I was not in a position to just quit my job, so while I waited on a transfer, I still had to cope with my daily interactions with the DEVIL.  What I needed was a remedy or an alibi....thankfully my doctor provided me with a remedy (the Pills portion of Prayer & Pills).

In this modern insanity, its not uncommon for someone to be living with the assistance of Xanax/Zoloft/Valium, but for me, I never considered it to be an option.  I never considered it until I truly plotted out how to murder my boss....I needed medical intervention. 

Two weeks after filling the doctor's order, my mother had a stroke.  The Power That Is knew I was going to need all the help I could get to survive what was coming up.  It took a day or two for me to realize that the medical intervention was not about my CRAZY boss and work issues, it was to prepare me to handle what was on the horizon.  My mother needed me to be focused on her, not splitting myself between work needs and her needs.  My bosses toxic behavior turned my love of service to the people into dread.  I was ready, willing, and able to let my job go, and the morning my mother called I did.

It's been 53 days since my mother had her stroke.  This is not our whole life, this is just Wednesday, April 13, 2011.

Life Altering

My mother had a stroke.  Not a little TIA, but a right-brain, left-side paralyzing, bloodclot-initiated stroke.  That was 43 days ago, and as much as her life has changed and she struggles to adjust, my life has been altered.

I know, it sounds selfish.  It sounds selfish when I say it, selfish when I think it, and selfish when I write it.  She's my mother, I'm her daughter, and there is only one option.  She cared for me and now I care for her.

I have a sibling, who is more MIA then present.  Only a day-trip away, but his life needs him, while my life is on hiatus.  He has to work, while I'm on family leave.  His family needs him daily, while my son's have taken on the role of secondary caregivers.  Not an unusual story, but at 2am when my mother is crying and praying for relief from the nerve pain, I get angry, I feel mistreated and I feel taken advantage of.  43 days since the stroke and my sibling has generously spent a total of 8 days with his entourage (wife and kids) visiting and/or caring for our mother, but insist on reminding me "your not in this alone".  But at 2am on day 43, I feel very alone with mother, I feel very alone with our pain, I feel very alone in our situation.

My mother is the woman I have admired my entire life, the woman I wanted to be more like.  She is the one person I can call when my day is bad or my heart is broken and her response is alway "WE will be okay".  So here WE are.  43 days after she called me at 4:16am to tell me something was really wrong, 43 days after I raced her to the hospital, 43 days after the stroke, she is home, she is unable to use her left side, and I am with her 24/7.

I remind myself daily, this will not be our life forever.  This is not our life, this is just Tuesday, April 5, 2011.