One Flew the Cuckoo Nest

Since the boys were little, I thought all I ever wanted was for them to be happy, healthy, productive adults. Now that the time is here, all I want to do is call a time out. Mixed with my pride for them, is excitement for what they can accomplish, but also extreme sadness for their leaving. Couldn’t they have taken a bit longer to grow up? Maybe ease into the whole independence thing. It amazes me, some days seemed endless when they were small, but somehow the years still just seemed to fly by. Did it have to happen so soon? I’ve only been raising children for thirty-one years. I found myself filled with such mixed emotions as I spoke to a mentor and self-proclaimed big brother for my "Stevie" last week. Great news, great opportunity. He sold me so well, I ran to Steven's room to tell him about this exciting opportunity. I didn’t realize that within an hour I’d hear it was a done deal. So caught up in the moment I forgot to ask questions, like "What's the catch?" There's ALWAYS a catch. Ten hours separation between my son and his mom, oh and a mere 24 hours to prepare for this move. Friends always commend me for my toughness, my ability to hold it together, never one to let the sweat show. Little do they realize, behind the scenes I’m a blubbering fool, unable to face anyone with my puffy, reddened eyes, standing in a puddle of my own tears. Mixed with the excitement for his opportunity, pride in his ability to look past the hard work to what he can achieve in the long term, is sadness that he has to spread his wings so soon. Hopefully I can hold it together so that the last vision he has as he drives away will not be me resembling his brother’s face once swollen by multiple yellow jackets stings. I am proud of him, just not as prepared as I always thought I would be for him to spread his wings and fly the coop. A friend mentioned the quote about animals eating their young, relating to his experience with parenting, but I've CHERISHED every moment I’ve had with my boys. I’ve ALWAYS adored them, no matter what the situation. I went into parenting knowing that in the grand scheme, our kids are with us for a very short time. I ALWAYS love them. Never, even on the worst of days did I wonder what kind of seasoning I should use. To prepare myself, I found the name of the town, looked into what it's all about, to see for myself, it's not as dark and desolate as I imagined after speaking to Steven upon his initial arrival. I know once he acclimates, he'll be fine. I have the checklist in my head of all that I need to clarify with him. 1) I won't just show up, but if he needs me there, I'm there in a heartbeat, but I have to be invited, well I’ve already changed that to I’ll call before I show up at his door; 2) this is ALWAYS his home and the door is always open to him. 3) He knows he's my world, I love him dearly, and am so very proud of him, always have been and will be forever more. For added measure, I had a house key made on a special world key to symbolize that no matter where he may roam, he always has a HOME. While working through this transition, I realized much of my insecurity and fear behind this huge transition stems from my experience on the other side of this fence. I was constantly reminded that "once I left home there was no turning back; the door closed behind me. She promised to throw money in the rolled down window for the grandchildren on their birthday. Within a month of my departure, my bedroom became a den, new carpet and all. It was like she, signed up for eighteen years and when that time expired, we were on our own. It took 30 years and my father's deathbed for me to return. Why? I was never invited, never made to feel it was my home to return to. I can't speak for my mom on why she made things seem so FINAL. I'm sure she didn’t mean for it to be as harsh as I interpreted it, but there was never any clarification, so I took her at her word. Now at almost 80 years old, she feels alone, wishing someone would jump at her list of demands, while not wanting to be a bother. She pushed us a bit too hard out of the nest, and lives got in the way. She's set in her ways now, refusing to try new things, while expecting everyone to cater to her. She has earned that right, but as with any right, there are consequences. Mom and I have cleared the air since that time so long ago, and we’ve all tried to help her through her own transition. My brothers live 20 minutes away, so I suggested inviting them to Sunday dinner. Her response, “What, I HAVE TO cook?” I’m half way across country, so I suggested Skype, setting it up on her computer so she merely has to click on my picture. It’s too difficult to figure out, even after I set it up on her computer; email has too much junk, someone might steal her information on Facebook. She can’t hear well enough for the phone. I offered to buy her a ticket to come out here. She HATES flying. Train? Too long, she has problems with my bladder”. I even offered to send a grandson for a visit to help over the summer. “What, and stay at my house?” I'm sure the list goes on, but you can see the direction this is headed. Once I got out of my head, I realized her experience doesn't have to be mine, and I'm sure it won't be. I believe in give/take, and am a bit more open minded than she. I'll have a tentative ticket, with my finger on the mouse to click buy the second they ask me to visit. Because of my mom's tough nose approach, she is hurting now, because of the pain I felt over the distance within my family, and having felt as an outsider in both birth and adopted families’, I traveled to the opposite end of the spectrum. Family is my #1 priority. I've cherished every moment I've had with my boys. Even on those days that seemed they’d never end, I never once wondered what kind of seasoning would be best for kid stew. I made a conscious commitment when they were born that FAMILY was my absolute highest priority. I'm blessed. My kids have no doubts about my love for them, they know they are always welcome, and this is always their home. They have space to spread their wings, and I'll always be their biggest fan. They have a built in fan club with their brothers and mutual tight knit group of friends, which they've shared over the years. It would seem that my report card from my parenting adventure came in with flying colors. My boys are becoming those healthy, happy, productive, successful members of society that I had dreamed for them so many years ago, I just wish it didn't happen so quickly. I am OK, it's OK to cry. Some tears are of joy. So happy for them, excited for their new adventure. The tears are still flowing, but now they truly are joyful tears. Change and unknowns are scary, especially once they land inside my head, which can be the darkest place to venture to alone. The good news is as soon as I choose to be done, I hold the key to find my way out. Even with a 10 hour separation, we have ROAD TRIPS, Skype, phone, Facebook, Messager, Facetime...so many options. This is not the end, just a new chapter, new beginning, full of hope and excitement. No matter where their travels may take them, they always have a HOME.

Death Brings out the Ugliness of the Living

What is it about death that brings out the ugliness of the living? There's been no talk of a will yet, no cash payouts anywhere at this point. The roller coaster ride of Lewy Body I thought had reached a stop, instead the car just changed direction and speed.

The family I generally have to tolerate for a couple of hours on Christmas Day, I now have had the experience of seeing 24/7 since Wednesday. If not with them face to face, I've listened to endless hours of conversation.

It was made very clear to me that I AM NOT a part of this family, I'm guessing I must have just been an intern. One relative, whom I already struggle with small talk with, walked away mid sentence without a word to retrieve something. Another relative thought it a good time during a trip to the mortuary to ask sordid details of my childhood. In essence I was told I turned out OK for an adoptee, how DID I work through all of my issues? When I walked away, which I did on several occasions I was followed, with questions ranging from were you molested as a child? How severe was the abuse? How did you come to terms with all of this? All the while, my significant other thought it was nice to see his aunt and I bonding, so he hated to break in.

I'm dealing with the death of a man, who at one time lived with me, hated me for some time, but finally learned to tolerate me. I've calmed him down during hallucinations, where he saw a plane crash in the living room, I've helped feed him, change his diapers. Towards the end, I helped carry him from chair to couch to bed to table. Now that he's gone, EVERYONE is full of kudos for all that THEY contributed to his care. One had only visited him once in the last 10 years, yet was thanked for all her support.

I've been pushed aside. I'm left to assume I was merely an intern, because to be hired help, I would have been compensated. Instead, I've been kicked to the side, while they BASK in the light of their greatness.

By Sunday, I was exhausted, I needed an escape. I found out, a locked dementia ward is hardly the place to hide. After leaving the chaos of family drama, I was met with residents who sadly enough have no one visiting them. One woman frantically waiting for her ride, sending me off to contact someone to find out their time of arrival, another adamant that they had left the oven on. I was able to walk divert their attention when I said I was going to get oven mitts. One even tried to escape herself. When I heard a caregiver say her name, I was able to help her turn around and return to the dining room.

On most days I would have sadness for those individuals abandoned by family, however, today I was quite envious of their situation. I'm afraid of the meetings to discuss any financial windfalls for people. Their sense of guilt and insecurity knowing they threw their family member to the side, sure shined through showing some true, deep down ugliness. I must have been exhausted from the blinding light of their true self showing through. I KNOW it wasn't their halos.

Time to Grow Up, Let Go!

During a recent visit to an elderly friend, I saw photos all over the room of his granddaughter. In any normal situation that would be expected, however, since the child's birth others have bought gifts for the girl since her mother wanted NOTHING to do with her father.

As his health has declined over the last few years, everyone has pitched in to assist with his care. He's lived with us for a time, then came to visit weekly. Now that he is reaching the final stages of his condition, his daughter has visited him once, after thinking it was all made up, exaggerated to get her attention. She showed up with pictures of her daughter, whom he doesn't recognize or remember. He cannot remember his daughter's name at this point because the distance has been so long between them.

I was appalled when I walked in to find pictures she supplied, yet the photo he's had for years of his mother, is set sideways on a table behind a box of tissue, while her daughter is on display for all to see.

How can people live with themselves when they have absolutely no substance at all. Everything in life to them is a SHOW. That's what I see when I think of her. I'm angry with her because my family has put their lives on hold to care for HER father, without even a thought to involve herself. The only involvement I've seen is when there is an audience, when others might think badly of her behavior. More so than angry, I feel sorry for her. She thinks the world revolves around her existence. She believes the world falls for her public persona, that the world is HER stage.

I can say from experience, that losing a parent with unresolved issues is a painful path to take. Lack of closure wounds deep, and for some doesn't heal. I know that we'll be hearing from her after her father is gone, wondering what happened. Until now, everyone has given her the pity she is looking for, listened to her excuses for not being there in a time of need, all the while talking about her, wondering what happened to her. I don't envy her or anyone in that situation, but I have no compassion for those whose own selfish behavior leads them to this position in life. I've been very clear, that I won't say anything to her, but I don't plan to help pick up the pieces for her self-induced, destructive ways.

I would hope that people would realize sometimes there are no second chances, and actions DO SPEAK LOUDER than your words. If found in this situation, don't fool yourself into believing that everyone is falling for your world of make believe. Realize YOU are the fool, not everyone else. Better yet, get over whatever it is that happened in the past, let it go, and forgive. Try to hold onto the notion that they did the best they could with what they had at the time as there is no way to turn back the hands of time.