Waiting for the other shoe to drop

I wrote a difficult email the other day. It was to my father. It contained some hard things that I felt needed to be said, and the worst was that I felt I had to decline his offer/request to come visit us.

My relationship with my father has been a difficult one. We went without any communication for over ten years. Since I made the effort to reconnect with him 7 years ago it has been ok, though odd and uncomfortable at times. In the last few months he had told me things that have been downright disturbing. And then he wanted to come visit us.

There is no way I can do that right now.

It is hard to explain a lifetime dysfunctional relationship in a single blog post. And I am certainly not going to attempt it in multiple posts. So, you will have to realize that there are a whole lot of things that are being left out of this story right now.

I am not the only one with issues with my father. Neither of my siblings have any contact with him, and for them it is going on 18 years or so.

My father was not a child molester. We never saw him beat my mom. He was not an alcoholic. I believe he tried to do better for us than his parents did for him. He did many good things for us and with us. He was proud of his kids and enjoyed watching us grow and accomplish things.

But he also brought a lot of pain, sadness, and other negatives into our lives.

Over the years I have asked myself what exactly it was that has kept us all at a distance from him. I know that there are lots of people in the world with crappy fathers, and they still talk on the phone, go help him mow his lawn, and invite him for Thanksgiving. So what was different for us? I could not put a label on it. Recently my brother said the perfect word:

Toxicity.

My father's behavior is inherently toxic. He would choose revenge and bitterness over forgiveness, even to the point of his own destruction. The past 18 years of his life are a perfect example. He went from not consistently paying child support, to not paying it at all (for my two dependent, minor siblings at the time), to saying that he would rather go to jail than pay one red cent to my mother, and then he got his wish and spent about six months in jail for non-payment. And from there he proceeded to live a hard life of trying to exist without a driver's license, and with under-the-table jobs so that he could avoid having his wages garnished by the state to pay the child support. He has been homeless, jobless,penniless, and hungry. All to keep "winning" at his game of revenge.

My siblings got to see that there was no unconditional fatherly love available for them. He prized his anger over everything else.

In the meantime my mother was struggling as a single parent of two teens, trying to get through nursing school so she could support herself and her kids, and having a pretty hard time financially. My younger sister actually put herself through our Christian school for her senior year thanks to her part time after-school job, because she didn't want to have to switch schools for her senior year.

Both of my siblings went on to college without the benefit of any fatherly support, either financial or otherwise. They went without cars, worked a lot, saved a lot, and in short basically had a tough row to hoe for everything they ever achieved, which was a lot. (1 degree for my brother plus world travel and more, and 2 master's degrees for my sister)

It is interesting to me that even back in the 1980s and early 1990s, although there was no mention (that I recall) in popular media about 'eliminating negative people from your life' like there is today, each of his children (and his wife) instinctively knew that this toxic relationship could not be maintained. He played a role in this, too. His toxic behavior worked to distance himself and alienate those that were close to him. In the end his own (toxic) mother did not even want him mentioned in her obituary, and the (toxic) extended family went on to "honor" that wish.

It's some baaaad joojoo. That's what.

My father has told me several times since we have been back in contact, that he is not the man he used to be; that he is damaged badly; that he is mentally damaged from the years of hardship he has endured.

I believed him. I really did.

But recently I have seen and experienced some examples of this that really drove the point home for me.

So now I see a little more clearly. And I can't have him visit us.

I don't want to deal with the severe drain of stress that an extended visit with him would surely bring.
I don't want him spending an extended period of time around my children.
I have serious concerns that he might not even be safe to have staying with us.

And although I know those things clearly, it is still very hard. Hard to think it, hard to tell him, and hard to live it.

When I have had to witness his toxicity, it really shakes me up. It is deeply sad. My father is a man who had a lot of potential at one point. Seeing his life wasted as it has been these past 18 years is a real shame.

Some people got great dads that dote on the grandchildren and give wise advice and help out when times are hard.

Not me.

There was a certain amount of peace for the years that there was no contact. I had no idea where he was or if he was alive. I was busy. Life flew by as I was raising six children.

But I never felt completely at ease with the way things were. What kind of example was I setting for my own children, to have no relationship with my own father? How could I live out the command to honor your parents with a decade of silence for one of them? I could never reconcile those things. So I took a chance and reached out. Some of the results have been positive. Much has been neutral. And recently, quite a bit of hard stuff.

So here I am.

One of these days I will get a return email from him with his response to what I had to say. I did my best to be kind, but honest, about how shaken I have been by his recent behavior, and how I feel unable to handle having him come visit us.

I feel sorry for him getting an email like that. He seems to not have much positive in his life, and I hate to take away his dream of coming to visit us. It makes me feel ill, really, to deal with this, even though it is clear to me what I needed to say.

Every time I check my email I am bracing myself. This is one of those heavy stress items that gets dragged around behind me all day and all night, wearing on me, poking holes in my energy and causing it to leak out.

It stinks.

Every once in awhile...

it's appropriate to grieve for things that are not as they should be:
People that are broken.
Heartbreaks and disappointments.
Losses.
Brokenness.
Unanswerable questions and unfixable problems.

Yes, I have a lot to be thankful for, and I am. But today, some time is being taken to be sad for a little while. I think that's reasonable.

Toxic

I had two sad reminders this week of the deep toxicity of a person in my life. It is deeply sad to me when a person will choose anger, revenge, and bitterness over anything positive. I do not understand it. Watching this is like watching a person choose death for themselves over and over again.

A Dream

Dreams can be amazing. Stir up all your conscious issues along with the subconscious and the peripheral things in your life, let your brain get quiet enough to puzzle-piece it all together, and you get a movie. Sometimes it's just weird. Other times it's powerful enough to shake you to your core.

A week or two ago I had a dream. All of my immediate and extended family was celebrating some holiday at my Gram's house. It was as it is today, remodeled and with the belongings and style of my uncle and his girlfriend that now own it. We were all milling around, and then I caught a glimpse of Gram, standing in the front entryway.

My breath caught. I moved slowly for a closer look, thinking she was a ghost that could just disappear if I moved too fast. My grandfather was there, standing behind her, hands on her shoulders. They had a great view of what was happening both in the dining room and the living room, and they looked radiantly happy. They took my breath away.

I heard my uncle come up behind me. He quietly said, "Wow. They look so real." I had the quick thought that if he and I were both seeing the same thing, then it had to be real! And they heard it and looked at us. I ran to her and threw my arms around her and was overcome with hysterical crying. She was real! They were there! They were so happy to be together again, and to see how their family had grown. They were drinking it all in. All was well. Family members came running from all corners of the house, reaching and hugging and crying. It was powerful, all of us unified in our surprise and joy at them being with us.

The realness of that dream shook me from my sleep. I had not even been aware that such raw emotion was still hanging out under the surface of my heart. The desperation I felt for the opportunity to hug and kiss my Gram again was huge. The relief at being able to see her again was palpable. Seeing my grandfather so clearly was powerful. He died when I was 7, so it's been a long, long time since I've seen how tall he was or how broad his shoulders were. But there he was, and it seemed like there could be no doubt that I was seeing it all exactly as it was.

Every time I think about that dream it shakes me up again. For now I prefer to let myself believe that somehow it was true, that Gram and Papa met me in my dreams, gave me another chance to show my love and feel their warmth again.

A Child's Grief and Loss

The other day we took a short drive through the cemetery, on the way to pick up my oldest. My 8 year old immediately started thinking of Gram.

"I wish Gram was dead HERE so we could go and see her."

I explained that although Gram is not buried near us, we would not be able to see her even if she was. I reminded him that Gram is in heaven now, with Jesus and God and her husband. We talked about how great it is that we have so many good memories of her, but he seemed unmoved from the pain of not being able to see her.

At home I immediately got the children gathered at the dinner table, but my 8 year old was a no-show. Thinking he was in the bathroom, I just called to him to say it was dinner time, and didn't worry about it. He'll be along soon.

Nope. He was on his bed, sobbing into his pillow.

When I found him there I gave him a hug and asked what was making him sad.

"It's all too much! Gram is dead and I will never get to see her again. And Ono and Oyeah* live far away and I have not gotten to see them for a long time either. Gram is dead and it is all too much!"

Wow.

It was hard to see his pain. I was stricken to hear him describe it the way he did. One of my less verbal children, always fascinating me with the deep things he shares.

*Ono and Oyeah are what my kids call my mom and her husband.

I took this past week "off" to rest. This meant that I did zero non-essential business items, did no thinking about business or homeschooling (except a teeny bit that came up at the end of the week), took naps liberally, and in general just chilled out around the house. Started reading A Breath of Snow and Ashes for perhaps the 3rd or 4th time, because the NEXT book in the Outlander series is coming in September, and I wanted to get caught up and reminded about where the story left off.

Today my husband and I were supposed to go out on a date, but honestly I was so tired and was also feeling a fresh wave of sadness and loss about my Gram, that I just didn't have it in me. Thankfully my hubby was ok with that. Instead of going out I took a fat nap, and then woke up to discover that we had plenty of garden items available to make a mighty nice dinner. We had corn, zucchini, green beans, and mashed potatoes all from our back yard, plus our own sunflowers in a vase on the table. I used my Gram's tablecloth, cloth napkins, and beautiful plates and serving pieces for the entire thing. It all looked gorgeous, and although I burst into tears no less than 4 times while making everything and setting things up, I also felt happy that I could be using and enjoying these things and sharing them with my family and a few guests that were with us tonite.

Now we're getting kids settled into bed and then my husband and I will be playing Racko and watching Life, season 1. (new series I discovered recently)

Interestingly, although cutting back on business doin's this week, there has been just a small amount of stuff to leave. I may take an hour or two on Monday to tackle loose ends, and then proceed to take another "week off" next week as well. I don't feel completely rested yet, and think that less work and more family time is just the thing for me these days. We'll be back to homeschooling soon, so I better get my snooze on while I have the chance.

Very Tired

So I went to New York for my grandmother's funeral. It was a long drive there and back, and it was a tiring trip in just about every aspect of the word. I did enjoy a fun stop at a dear old friend's house where I attended my first-ever wine tasting party (still don't like wine....) and got to do some socializing and talking about the old days. )We have been friends for 26 years! How could I be old enough for that?!)

At my gram's former home I spent hours with other family members going through boxes and bags full of her things. The dust, mold, mildew, and moth balls were rather unpleasant, to say the least. But it was fun to come across treasures and memories every here and there, and to laugh and say "I remember when...."

I was blessed to be able to carry home just about every item that held sentimental value and particularly distinctive memories (for me) of my grandmother's house, and that is already a joy. Just about everything already has a place where it can be seen, used, and enjoyed often. We have already eaten off the plates, I wore a piece of my gram's jewelry tonite, a special blanket is wrapped around two of my little boys tonite, and several other items are on display and in use. (It was interesting to see how different items meant "Gram" to each of us. It seemed like everybody got the things that were important and meaningful to them, and somehow those things didn't really overlap, which was really cool. I have such a great extended family. Everybody was so sweet and kind to each other.)

It doesn't seem real that my gram is no longer with us. She has been such a strong presence in my life. I still know just how she looks and feels and smells, and she is very present with me in my mind. That is a wonderful thing, but also seems very sad and at odds with the loss of her.

I was able to speak at the funeral service, which was not easy, but I'm glad I did. As I've already shared here several times, knowing how many of the greatest loves of my gram's life came to her in her 50s, 60s, 70s, and 80s is pretty inspiring to me. That's one of the main things I spoke about.

I've rarely known anyone as loved as my grandmother. She really did bring out the best in others. She was the best. I wish I could have done even more for her. But I know she knew she was loved and cherished, and that is worth a lot.

Since getting home I've been on the run. Orders to fill, customer service issues to deal with, interviews to conduct, and other business needs have been beckoning to me, while my children need me to lifeguard them at the pool and make some food and give them hugs and reassure them that Mommy is not going on any more trips anytime soon. I have had stuff I had to do every day since returning, and tomorrow am supposed to go to a wedding that I feel almost too tired to attend. I have a little boy with a birthday coming up Monday and I need to plan a party for him, which will probably be this Sunday. Nothing like planning a party 24 hours in advance, right? (sigh) My brother and sister also have birthdays this coming week, and I have no idea what to do for those. Once again the birthday curse befalls me! I wonder if a Lego set would do the trick for either of them, because that is what I still have to get for my 8 year old birthday boy. And don't forget groceries! We need those too, and I'm just the person to go out and hunt them down. (my husband would be happy to do it, but I don't know that my brain would even allow me to think through everything that I need to get in order to make a list for him. Staggering through the store, dropping things into the cart seems more likely...)

We are also having some upheaval about this year's homeschooling plans for one of the children, so there is all of THAT to wade through, trying to evaluate and consider all of the angles even though the timing doesn't seem good for it. There is a time-sensitive issue that is forcing this on us, but the good news is that if I can get through it this weekend, it should (hopefully) be put to rest by Monday. Please, Lord, let it be so. It would be helpful if all parties involved could be in agreement about the best decision. (prayers appreciated)

A close family friend of ours that was with my sister and the rest of us for the funeral and days before and after has had a tragedy in her family. Her sister was in a terrible car accident just the other day. This 18 year old girl was merely slowing to turn into her own driveway when rear-ended by an SUV. She is now in very serious condition and it is quite concerning all the way around. If you think of it, please pray for Kayla and her family.

So many things both big and small, important and urgent to fill my mind and my time.

Maternal Guilt: Inevitable

I've never had trouble feeling guilty when doing things that I felt were important to do for my children, but taking care of myself even when they want me not to sure does cause me some difficulty.

Today my 11 year old came to me tearfully to ask if he could accompany me to my grandmother's funeral. My husband and I had already made the decision for me to go alone for several reasons which include an out of state trip, not very good accommodations for our size family, my husband's work schedule, finances, my daughter's pet sitting gig which is ongoing during the time we'd need to be gone, and so on. In addition, in nearly 17 year of parenthood I've never gotten to visit with my mom, siblings, or extended family without my children around. Not that having my children around is a bad thing, but I have been looking forward to doing some visiting that is all adults and without me having to constantly be doing or thinking about doing for my children. Meals, clothing, sleeping arrangements, entertainment, supervision, etc. all take a lot of energy. I was already low on that, and grieving for my grandmother doesn't exactly energize me. Nor will a 13 hour drive to New York.

So it all makes sense. I'm going alone. The kids are staying home.

Except that I have a tearful little boy that loved his great grandmother and feels that he would like to attend the funeral.

And then I feel guilty. Perhaps I should be willing to do the extra work to give my kids this opportunity. Perhaps nothing should stand in the way of every family member making the journey to the funeral and participating. Perhaps I am too selfish to not want to have to play whack-a-mole at bedtime while trying to stay in my uncle's smallish home with 6 other people.

I could say yes to this one child. Except that there is no way that would be the end of it. Other children would want to come as well, and next thing you know I'd be on the road with the back seats full of squabbling children asking how long til we stop at Cracker Barrel. (ask me how I know. I took three kids with me to visit my grandmother in May. I'm glad they got to see her one last time, but it was an experience that left me saying, "Next time, No Way. I'm going alone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In trying to explain to my husband that I just need a break, he says he understands, yet doesn't really seem to accept it. Once again I find myself wondering why it is that it is not automatically taken for granted that normal, healthy, decent, good, loving mothers and wives would also like some time off. When a single person or pair of childless yuppies wants to get away from their normal life that is seen as normal. When a mother wants to get away from her normal life, she is seen as "wanting to leave" her family. What the heck is up with that?

My husband actually said to me, "I'll try to figure out how to help you get some more breaks so you can get away from us."

Don't you just love the passive aggressive message embedded in there?!

(I will give credit where it is due: He called to apologize and said that he really did understand. I will try to believe him.)

It is crap like this that causes me to remember that it is no wonder that mothers suffer from depression, exhaustion, and similar ailments. So many messages tell us that once we are mothers we are on lock-down, no longer free to care for ourselves without a hefty price tag of guilt. It makes sense to me that I, like so many others, have gotten to the end of my rope at times. The whole thing turns into a warped scene where you can't get a break unless your life literally depends on it. (Hopefully your break won't need to be at Shady Acres. But it might.)

I have been thinking a lot over the past couple months about being a warrior as a mother. Fighting for what is best for my children, even when it is costly, frightening, and exhausting. I've done it. I do it. I will continue it.

For the past several days I have been looking toward my grandmother's funeral and have been thinking of needing to be a warrior to speak up and offer a tribute worthy of this amazing woman who has meant so much to me and our entire extended family. I may stand up there and cry like crazy, but I'm unwilling to let the opportunity go by.

Today I am thinking that at some point I have to be able to stand up with confidence and be a warrior on behalf of my own needs. Yes, it always has to be couched with wisdom and the realization that once you are married and a parent your life is never really your own any more. But I know that there have got to be ways for me to care for myself without having to get to the end of my rope. It will help me be a better version of myself, and better for everyone that is in my life.

And still I feel conflicted about saying no and driving away solo...

My Mother, My Hero

My mom is an incredible woman for many more reasons that I am going to recount tonite. What I do want to say is that she has done an amazing job of caring for Gram in her home for the past several years.

It isn't easy to have other people in your home for an extended period of time. My mom has not only had her elderly mother's care to consider, but helpers to hire, fire, and deal with constantly, while running her own business and working full time besides, and then coming home at night to take over the care herself.

Elder care is a tough gig no matter what. Add in varied health problems, and a large side dish of dementia, and you've got a real challenge. My mom has handled a really tough situation so well. I am very proud of her.

It isn't always easy to do what we think is right or best. My mom has been committed to keeping Gram at home with her unless it became impossible. There has been a large cost financially, emotionally, physically, time-wise, personal-comfort-wise, and probably every other category you can think of. It has been a tough tour of duty. I understand it, though, because I would do the same for my mom or other loved ones as well. Some things in life require the warrior in us to show up and stay fighting for a long time.

I have been concerned about my mom for awhile now. Her schedule is beyond busy, and her stress load has been very high for a long time. I am praying that things will soon settle down for her and allow her to experience more peace and rest.

(photo of my mom and gram from a few years ago)

Tears, Memories, and Blessings

My Gram passed on during the night.

Thankfully my brother, who had been in China for a year, returned this week and was able to get to see her last night and be with her right to the end. He told me about it this morning when we talked on the phone. His care with her pain management, peaceful music, and his comforting presence make me certain that he did a wonderful job seeing her through to the other side.

My Gram was sick for a long time. There have been many times that I thought she would not live long. Every time I have spent time with my grandmother for the past many years I have been mindful that it could be the last time. I have been thankful for every visit, every phone call, every hug and kiss.

Several years ago Gram was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and we never knew if she would really know us any more when we could visit or call next. Yet she always did, which felt like a double blessing every single time. One more Christmas! One more birthday! Always a bonus to have a real visit with her.

My grandmother has been a constant presence in my life and has been very important to me and my family. Every one of my children has gotten to know her and have memories of her, which I think is really wonderful.

My grandmother's circle of love didn't have limits. If we had a friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, or anyone else around they were embraced by her kindness. And if it was at our family Christmas Eve dinner, she would quickly stick some money in someone's hand and send them out to the closest store to get some gifts for our special guest to open, because she never wanted anyone to not be included in the festivities. :)

It is hard to imagine life without my grandmother. She has been a constant. And constantly loved.

My Gram

I've been blessed in my life to have a wonderful grandmother that was geographically close by during my childhood, and that I have remained in close contact with as an adult. I have a zillion memories of her being at birthdays, holidays, daily life, and even early on Christmas morning she and my grandfather would be perched on the couch, waiting to see our faces when we came downstairs to see what was under the tree. She was there when I was in labor with my first baby, and has enjoyed each new life that has joined our family. If we had ever had a second daughter, she would have had my gram's name as part of hers. Too bad I didn't think of that on the first girl, eh? ;)

In her older age there have been several times when we've been seriously concerned about her health and wondered how long she'd be with us. Once I drove by myself with 3 small children (ages 5, 2, and an infant) over 12 hours to stay with her and help take care of her because I was so concerned. My siblings have done similar things as well. She's the kind of grandmother that brings out that kind of concern and loyalty, I guess.


She's got dementia now, so each visit I wonder if this will be the last one where she will know who we are. Thankfully, she always does know us, which is fairly amazing seeing as how there are 6 growing children, 4 of whom are young boys very close in age. For those not used to our family, it can be challenging to keep track of who's who. Somehow she gets through those visits without confusing any names. Which is more than I can say for myself some days. :)

My Gram is now almost 86 years old and not doing well. She was recently hospitalized, and is now back at my mom's house (12 hours away from me). Hospice care is getting involved in her care. Which points to something I don't like thinking about.

I called Gram today. She sounded so weak and tired. But she was happy to hear from me. We talked for awhile and then she said she had to go rest because she was so tired. She told me she loved me in a way that made me wonder if she might think this could be her last opportunity to say it. Which got me crying.

I've known for a long time that my gram is getting old and is not in good health. Most of her friends have died. She has long wondered what God was keeping her on earth for. She's in pain a lot, and cannot do much of anything without a real struggle.

Today when I talked to her, I felt like I could smell her Gram scent, that is probably embedded in my brain from my infancy. The thought of having her absent from my regular life is hard. She is a really important and hugely-loved part of my family.

A few weeks ago the kids and I got talking about what life would be like someday when they are grown up and have kids. They started speculating on what my husband and I would be called when the time comes for a special grandparent name. Granny? MaMaw? Grandmother? I could think of nothing I'd rather be as a grandmother than Gram.

Sad news: Heath Ledger has died

My husband has just called to tell me that one of my very favorite actors, Heath Ledger, has died today. Just yesterday I was talking about how much I enjoy his work. I've admired Heath's ability as an actor who plays so many different types of roles so skillfully. I'm really very sad about this. What a terrible, sad loss, and what a sad situation that his life had gotten to the point where he has had either an accidental or purposeful drug overdose. Only 28 years old. What a waste. And now his daughter has to grow up without him. Sad, sad stuff.