For Better or for Worse

God bless my mom.  She is the strongest woman I know!!! I meant to write this post a couple days ago, but I've slacked...after tonight though...it needs to be said.  How do you keep taking care of a man...even though sick...that goes in the room when you come in from work, who won't eat your cooking, gives you the middle finger, and calls you a jackass?!?!  How does a man and wife go from loving each other, having three kids, being married for over 30 years end up like this???  The vow of marriage for most people these days holds no sanctity...most people are divorced at least 2 maybe 3 times over, here in California...but my mother, my dear mom; is still married to and takes care of my father.  I don't know if I'd have the will...I mean it wasn't as tough the first couple years, but as time goes on it progresses and just gets to the for WORSE!!!

Tonight we all went past our boiling points...tensions rose as my brother comes home to a room reeking of a pee soaked futon with dad laying there marinating in it and his clothes.  Unwilling to shower and change, my brother had enough and threw him out of the room along with the rest of his clothes.

As I was laying in the bed with mom catching up on some needed R&R and watching Cutthroat Kitchen I hear more a ruckus from my dad and brother going at it back and fourth. There definitely was starting to be some physical fighting which I then hopped out of the bed to calm things down.  Dez was taking the cover off the futon and spraying Febreze in the air.  I asked my dad to please shower and change out of his wet clothes.  He could not focus and began cussing at me too.  He almost put his hands on me, when my mom burst out of the room.  She asked him to stop being stubborn and attempted to explain that we were only looking out for his best interest and why would he keep biting the hands that fed him. More cussing ensued, he explained that he's out of here and is going to go with his family.  I said to call them up and see who would come get him.  He started gathering his things from the hallway and placing them in the living room.  I proceeded to throw pee stained clothes and the futon cover in the washing machine. Dad got mad about that started screaming and my mom interjected...he started towards her to which she retreated to the closest room, which was mine and closed the door to where it was barely cracked...she kept trying to talk him down from behind the door to no avail.  His water bottle fell on its side, and he got mad about that...Dez then grabbed him and "escorted" him to the living room.  I had to grab Dez to get him to stop as he was heated like a lion taking his kill down with the final blow. I threw him in his room and went back into the living room to see dad putting his dirty clothes on one of the chairs.  I asked him to give me the dirty clothes because I didn't want my living room smelling like piss (excuse my french).  Of course he didn't want to give me the clothes.  He started yelling at me, saying I'm lucky to be alive, and eff bomb this and eff bomb that. I got some of the clothes to put in the laundry.  He started back after me to which Dez pushed him back and he fell over an ottoman to the ground, here comes mom out of the room again, this time calming Dez and asking him not to hit dad as we all know that he isn't all mentally there.  Dez just keeps saying I'm done, I don't care, it doesn't matter.  My dad said something to the affect of you better pray to God or it's because you don't pray to God to which Dez  yelled "it's not like you taught me."  Mom goes back in her room, Dez goes in his room and closes the door.  Dad finishes gathering his things and lays on the ground.

I throw some oxyclean in the washer and set the washer to sanitize mode. Now that things are a little more settled I ask dad again to take a shower so that the moisture from his wet clothes doesn't seep into the floors.  He goes off and says he can't wait to get effing out of here and that I'm lucky it's not daytime or he would be gone.  I said whats daytime have to do with it, go now.  He's like you're lucky to be alive, I said yes I am and so are you or where would you be living right now.  I told him to call his family now...tell them to come get you now then.  He doesn't call.  I told him to get out then if he couldn't respect my house, my rules and his own self.  He said fine...I opened the front door and he started throwing putting his stuff outside.  He's outside and I lock the door behind him!

How do we go from being worried about someone being lost and searching for them to kicking them out...complete 180 on the emotional level!! Things are irreverently crazy with our words to each other.  I start cleaning the spills from his water bottle and wet spot on the floor.  He then starts ringing the doorbell asking for his wallet.  I tell him he has his wallet and to check the pile on the porch.  He doesn't check and proceeds to pound on the door.  I tell him I'm going to call the police.  It was as if he was trying to break the door down.

Dez and mom to the rescue again. Mom asks me to open the door.  I comply, but don't let him in entirely. He wants to get his wallet, I tell him to tell Dez where it is so Dez can get it.  Dez retrieves the wallet.  Mom again with her loving nature tries to reason with dad: "don't you want to take a shower and get clean and sleep in the warm house?" "Can you just stop being stubborn and allow us to help you?"  No response...he turns his back to the door.  I shut it.

I continue cleaning.  Mom asks me what I need help with. "Nothing, just go to bed"  She has work in the early morning.  As she heads to her room she says "I'll find a place for him tomorrow, for us!"

I look out the window and dad is sitting on the bench on the porch talking on the phone.  I assume he is attempting to get a ride.  I finish swiffering the floors and wiping down the chair ottoman and fridge.  I look outside...and he's simply laying on the bench.  No ones come to his rescue.

I wanted to buy a couch...saw a nice one at the JCPenney outlet...but didn't want it to be pee stained. Lost my dog, my house smells like pee, dirty dishes where the clean ones are, food spilled on the counters and floors...the energy is one of plain and simple misery.

Human nature is a funny thing...so many things at play tonight: the need to be right, anger, hurt, ill will, resentment, resignation, but mostly compassion.  Especially from mom.  Even as I sat down to write this she comes in my room "Are you just letting him relieve some steam outside for a bit?"  I reply "He can stay outside, he has a blanket." To which she says "He's wet."  I exclaim "He could have already had on dry clothes, I can't make him change, what do you do?" "What do you do?"  She leaves the room to finally get some rest.

I don't know about you, but I'm stressed, I'm at the point right now where I feel overwhelmed.  I can't even muster the energy to cry I'm so drained from the ordeal.  ::exhale::

You never know how "lucky" you are or the luck you can create for yourself...I can only hope and pray to find a husband who loves me as unconditionally as my mom has "love" for my dad, and that I will love that man so much that there's no question that I'd return the same.  My ex and I would talk about this occasionally, "If I was in a coma, how long would you wait of me? Would you wait for me?"  I always said that if I was in a coma after a certain amount of time please remarry and be happy, I wouldn't want someone to continue to be sitting around sad waiting for me.  I guess you would never know how you would react to that situation until you were placed in it.  I don't think my mom could have predicted how she would have reacted to this situation...I'm pretty sure the answer would be different than her current outcome.

Well, that's enough out of me for one night...Take care of yourself!!! Don't end up like dad!

Time to go check on him.

XO