I can't even finish being sad about one thing before the next thing hits. The guy I've been dating for a month... 2 days shy of a month... Was just shot and killed Sunday night... Monday morning. I might have been the last person he talked to on the phone... The last person he texted... The last person he went out to get food with... The last person he held in his arms.
My eyes are swollen from crying all Monday. My feet are heavy. He kept telling me all day "don't leave me" because I plan on moving... But I can't help but wonder if it was a plea for not leaving him that Sunday evening. He once told me not to tell him goodbye... I had told him goodbye on that phone that night... 20 mins before he was murdered... Was it a premonition? Or simply force of habit. Ugh... I replay the day/s over and over and over all Monday.
Today, I wake up in a bed that we just slept in together the night before the shooting to a call from my brother, "is dad home? He didn't come home last night and mom was looking for him this morning." I get up to check his room, the living room, the neighbors houses..... OF COURSE HE'S NOT THERE!
How do I process everything at once. I lay in bed another 15 mins... I just don't want to think right now. My brother is headed to Palmdale, my mom is at work... They act as if this is normal.
Im just getting back from looking for him... I can barely drive, my eyes are so tired. My soul is begging for relief. I didn't think it was possible to cry anymore than I already had... More tears. I can't drive right now, I pull over in the middle of the two lane highway. I need to head home.
None of this is/can be normal!
Showing posts with label multiple sclerosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label multiple sclerosis. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Saturday, January 2, 2016
HEY 2016!
Usually when I write here it's to help relieve stress and or frustration from the things that dad does. I'm pleased to be writing a different story as I ring in 2016.
I took mom to the la zoo lights for her birthday and we brought dad along. As we get towards the end of the event and begin to walk back to the front of the zoo dad's weight begins to buckle under him. I ask him should I run to get a wheel chair... The prideful man he is wouldn't allow him to say yes. He said "heck no!" So we slowly took our time walking back... Sat down a couple times to take a break. I began to walk slowly as I was posting a pic on the 'gram and as I fell behind I captured this...
Mom and dad hand and hand... Awww :')... Sight for sore eyes!
My <3 melted
Happy New Year everybody!! We're off to a great start!
XO
I took mom to the la zoo lights for her birthday and we brought dad along. As we get towards the end of the event and begin to walk back to the front of the zoo dad's weight begins to buckle under him. I ask him should I run to get a wheel chair... The prideful man he is wouldn't allow him to say yes. He said "heck no!" So we slowly took our time walking back... Sat down a couple times to take a break. I began to walk slowly as I was posting a pic on the 'gram and as I fell behind I captured this...
My <3 melted
Happy New Year everybody!! We're off to a great start!
XO
Thursday, December 17, 2015
One year later...
I just get back from dropping tiff off at the airport... I hear something crash to the ground as I enter the house. I proceed slowly. It's just he and I... Tiff on her way back to atl, mom at work and dez ubering (maybe).
I enter the room to make sure everything is OK... Low and behold a huge puddle of pee and pee soaked clothes on the ground... The bed wet, his shirt and pants wet.
My immediate reaction: "come on dude, you can't have these wet clothes on the ground" Needless to say frustration sets in. I quickly simmer down as I know he needs my assistance : fresh clothes, a shower, clean bedding... & Pee free floor. I get to work.
Grab him some fresh clothes ask him to clean himself up and hop in the shower. I clean the floor first, his house slippers are also pee soaked... I dump the sheets and clothes in the washer... Search for clean sheets in mom's room.
Meanwhile he's taking a nice long shower... Steam is coming from the bathroom... I know how good that hot water feels. I ask him if he's ok... He says yes.
I proceed to changing the sheets.
He finally gets out of the shower and bathroom smelling fresh and looking better. I ask "are you OK?" his response "no" I ask "what's wrong, what else do you need?" he said "I need to throw this (his old depends) in the trash outside"... He walks away very slow. I repeat what I said... He says again that he needs to go to the trash.
I go to my room and it hits me... Not like a ton of bricks, but very gently. I sob soft tears. I think to myself no one really knows the struggle... Then I think about the people who do, Stephanie, Anthony, a friend who recently lost his mom, my mom. Who am I to be sad? Do I have the right to be upset? The other night I was feeling down about this situation as well, and I was told that I'll get through it and that I'm strong. Sometimes i/you get tired of being strong... Then I snap out of my rut and work up the strength to be strong again... I have to be... Dont I? What else can I be?
One person that stays strong through it all is my mom... I mean she has her moments... But day in and day out dealing with my dad, her husband, and the same routine... How does she do it? How do we do it?
Thank you mother nature for my extra sensitivity this month lol (can anyone else sense my sarcasm)
He's in bed now...resting...and not ok. I don't think any of us are. (ok, that is).
I enter the room to make sure everything is OK... Low and behold a huge puddle of pee and pee soaked clothes on the ground... The bed wet, his shirt and pants wet.
My immediate reaction: "come on dude, you can't have these wet clothes on the ground" Needless to say frustration sets in. I quickly simmer down as I know he needs my assistance : fresh clothes, a shower, clean bedding... & Pee free floor. I get to work.
Grab him some fresh clothes ask him to clean himself up and hop in the shower. I clean the floor first, his house slippers are also pee soaked... I dump the sheets and clothes in the washer... Search for clean sheets in mom's room.
Meanwhile he's taking a nice long shower... Steam is coming from the bathroom... I know how good that hot water feels. I ask him if he's ok... He says yes.
I proceed to changing the sheets.
He finally gets out of the shower and bathroom smelling fresh and looking better. I ask "are you OK?" his response "no" I ask "what's wrong, what else do you need?" he said "I need to throw this (his old depends) in the trash outside"... He walks away very slow. I repeat what I said... He says again that he needs to go to the trash.
I go to my room and it hits me... Not like a ton of bricks, but very gently. I sob soft tears. I think to myself no one really knows the struggle... Then I think about the people who do, Stephanie, Anthony, a friend who recently lost his mom, my mom. Who am I to be sad? Do I have the right to be upset? The other night I was feeling down about this situation as well, and I was told that I'll get through it and that I'm strong. Sometimes i/you get tired of being strong... Then I snap out of my rut and work up the strength to be strong again... I have to be... Dont I? What else can I be?
One person that stays strong through it all is my mom... I mean she has her moments... But day in and day out dealing with my dad, her husband, and the same routine... How does she do it? How do we do it?
Thank you mother nature for my extra sensitivity this month lol (can anyone else sense my sarcasm)
He's in bed now...resting...and not ok. I don't think any of us are. (ok, that is).
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
I apologize
Dad called me on the phone today...he said he was sorry for what happened a couple nights ago. I apologized too. For now, things are back to "normal". He gave me the usual "God loves you and so do I. Have a blessed day." And we hung up.
Monday, December 8, 2014
"Bitter"...
are the words uttered from moms lips as she expresses her sentiment towards her/our situation. Her demeanor is calm, I could feel her energy as she sat down on my bed. She took a moment to gather herself. I could tell she was trying her hardest to hold back bursting into a sob fest. She told me she had a calm conversation with dad today and he expressed that he wanted to be talked to like a human and if we could talk slow so he could understand. I'm sure mom would love to talk to him in a calm manner...but 15 years of care giving to someone who maybe 85% of the time doesn't appreciate it, is a complicated task. As mom talks slowly it seems as if she has lost her voice, or maybe she was just tired from the previous nights incidents...either way her demeanor is solemn. She explains she never imagined it to be this way...when they got married they had so many hopes and dreams together, she said...this wasn't one of them. She said she never visualized this happening in the beginning of their marriage. Dez peers in the room, towel wrapped around him from just getting out of the shower. She asks us to respect dads wish to be talked to in a normal manner and remarks that last night could have been avoided if Dez could control his temper and ask her to help him. We all agree.
Mom apologizes for our situation and dads actions. I tell her that she doesn't need to apologize for him...apologizing for him as I understand it is her taking on more of his burden. I told her I get what she was trying to do, but we each need to take responsibility for our own actions, whether he is sick or not. And bottom line she didn't make him do what he did/does. I compared it to my brother shooting someone and me apologizing for what he did (just as a hypothetical example)..what kind of sense does that make; me apologizing for something he did? She said well we are married. Maybe legally, but in reality... (I won't go there)
I did ask dad if he was ready to shower and come in last night before I went to bed. He told me to leave him alone. I did.
This morning I heard him on the phone with my aunt...he cried loud tears. I also heard the shower water hitting the tiles...did he really shower? When I finally emerged from my room ready to head to an appointment, he was in the living room eating cereal with cut up bananas all his dirty clothes back n the living room floor. I asked him how he got in the house...he said mom let him in...he lied. I asked him when his family was coming to pick him up..he tried his best to cover up the fact that no one was coming. I asked him how come he was still here, when last night he was saying I'm lucky it wasn't day time..I said it's day time now, so why aren't you leaving...he just tries to mumble something about taking a shower and attempts to kill me with kindness. Still frustrated I tell him to leave...he puts his bowl down, puts his shoes on and as I get in my car, begins to walk down the street...he's not going anywhere.
My aunt calls me concerned...I missed her call. After my appointment I call her back, she says she already talked to mom. They talked about putting him in a home. She said he needs to be somewhere where people have the patience for him and that mentally it sounds like hes getting worse and needs help. Shes a retired nurse. We hang up.
For now he's sleep on the living room floor...he asks for his comfort towel from mom. His clothes wet yet again...he doesn't want to change them, even as mom speaks to him in a very mild mannered tone.
Today dad looks smaller and a bit more frail then yesterday.
Mom apologizes for our situation and dads actions. I tell her that she doesn't need to apologize for him...apologizing for him as I understand it is her taking on more of his burden. I told her I get what she was trying to do, but we each need to take responsibility for our own actions, whether he is sick or not. And bottom line she didn't make him do what he did/does. I compared it to my brother shooting someone and me apologizing for what he did (just as a hypothetical example)..what kind of sense does that make; me apologizing for something he did? She said well we are married. Maybe legally, but in reality... (I won't go there)
I did ask dad if he was ready to shower and come in last night before I went to bed. He told me to leave him alone. I did.
This morning I heard him on the phone with my aunt...he cried loud tears. I also heard the shower water hitting the tiles...did he really shower? When I finally emerged from my room ready to head to an appointment, he was in the living room eating cereal with cut up bananas all his dirty clothes back n the living room floor. I asked him how he got in the house...he said mom let him in...he lied. I asked him when his family was coming to pick him up..he tried his best to cover up the fact that no one was coming. I asked him how come he was still here, when last night he was saying I'm lucky it wasn't day time..I said it's day time now, so why aren't you leaving...he just tries to mumble something about taking a shower and attempts to kill me with kindness. Still frustrated I tell him to leave...he puts his bowl down, puts his shoes on and as I get in my car, begins to walk down the street...he's not going anywhere.
My aunt calls me concerned...I missed her call. After my appointment I call her back, she says she already talked to mom. They talked about putting him in a home. She said he needs to be somewhere where people have the patience for him and that mentally it sounds like hes getting worse and needs help. Shes a retired nurse. We hang up.
For now he's sleep on the living room floor...he asks for his comfort towel from mom. His clothes wet yet again...he doesn't want to change them, even as mom speaks to him in a very mild mannered tone.
Today dad looks smaller and a bit more frail then yesterday.
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
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!
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
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
It's raining cats and...
not dogs :( We still have yet to find my fat baby. My mom went looking for him the other night, which I appreciate greatly. It was so weird to not have him around for thanksgiving ready to chow down on his delicious turkey bone.
My dads birthday just passed on the 29th. I told him happy birthday. I went into the office to do branch work then I had to shoot to my other hustle, which led me to only see him for a minute that day. He said it was just another day. It is another day, but another day to be grateful that he is alive, isn't "lost", and can still perform most daily functions. He and my mom went to the mall and got him a gift, which he enjoyed.
Yesterday as I was leaving to head into the office my dad received a text from my uncle telling him happy birthday. So my dad asked him how he could text him back. Dad has one of those cheap phones that you have to press the numerical pad 3 times to get to the letter you are trying to type, or set it to predictive text. Explaining this to him was kind of odd, a small child would even understand how to do it. I basically had to respond to the text for him. I wonder if a smartphone would be a better idea; at least those are more intuitive.
Other random occurrences that have happened in the past few days: Dad tries to wash his own dishes and put them away...on Thanksgiving as my mom was putting away the food she found a dirty tupperware. She asked my dad not to put dirty dishes away. I was sitting in the room with him and as she left, he looked at me and with all certainty said "I didn't do that." Is that the dementia? Is that him thinking that he washed the dish completely? It might be a bit of both ::shrug:: He also hid some chips from when him and mom went to the movies up in one of the top cabinets in the corner. Last thing is he put coffee in the water dispenser of the Keurig and tries to claim that he didn't do that either. Now I know I didn't do it, Dez or my mom didn't. Why would he do that? Did he think he was using it properly? Was he trying to figure out how it functioned? Either way he says he didn't do it, which is another response to question. Now I have to remind him to leave the Keurig alone. I suppose that replaces the request to not over feed the dog.
I've also had to put the back gate key in my room to keep him from constantly going in the backyard to take one bottle back there at all times of the night and day, and to keep him from the weed killer, and also to make sure the gate remains closed and locked when no one is here. I think it's safer that way for all parties involved.
I'm also on chapter 5 of My Stroke of Insight, which has provided me a bit more of the workings of the brain. I'm thinking most of the lesions are on the left side of my dads brain...still have a lot more I need to read and understand at this point. One step at a time, I feel as though I'm getting there
My dads birthday just passed on the 29th. I told him happy birthday. I went into the office to do branch work then I had to shoot to my other hustle, which led me to only see him for a minute that day. He said it was just another day. It is another day, but another day to be grateful that he is alive, isn't "lost", and can still perform most daily functions. He and my mom went to the mall and got him a gift, which he enjoyed.
Yesterday as I was leaving to head into the office my dad received a text from my uncle telling him happy birthday. So my dad asked him how he could text him back. Dad has one of those cheap phones that you have to press the numerical pad 3 times to get to the letter you are trying to type, or set it to predictive text. Explaining this to him was kind of odd, a small child would even understand how to do it. I basically had to respond to the text for him. I wonder if a smartphone would be a better idea; at least those are more intuitive.
Other random occurrences that have happened in the past few days: Dad tries to wash his own dishes and put them away...on Thanksgiving as my mom was putting away the food she found a dirty tupperware. She asked my dad not to put dirty dishes away. I was sitting in the room with him and as she left, he looked at me and with all certainty said "I didn't do that." Is that the dementia? Is that him thinking that he washed the dish completely? It might be a bit of both ::shrug:: He also hid some chips from when him and mom went to the movies up in one of the top cabinets in the corner. Last thing is he put coffee in the water dispenser of the Keurig and tries to claim that he didn't do that either. Now I know I didn't do it, Dez or my mom didn't. Why would he do that? Did he think he was using it properly? Was he trying to figure out how it functioned? Either way he says he didn't do it, which is another response to question. Now I have to remind him to leave the Keurig alone. I suppose that replaces the request to not over feed the dog.
I've also had to put the back gate key in my room to keep him from constantly going in the backyard to take one bottle back there at all times of the night and day, and to keep him from the weed killer, and also to make sure the gate remains closed and locked when no one is here. I think it's safer that way for all parties involved.
I'm also on chapter 5 of My Stroke of Insight, which has provided me a bit more of the workings of the brain. I'm thinking most of the lesions are on the left side of my dads brain...still have a lot more I need to read and understand at this point. One step at a time, I feel as though I'm getting there
Thursday, November 20, 2014
don't blink...
It's amazing how things can change in an instant...three days ago I was enjoying in n out and yogurtland with my dad. This morning I was repeating our daily routine telling him not to over feed the dog, not to dig in the trash, not to get lost...and what did he go and do?!?!? And he took Xabi with him...
this is the longest he's been lost; it's been over 12 hours now. It's cold, all he had on was a light sweater, xabi had no sweater. Mom and I just got back from looking for two hours. How do you find someone in the dark, in the city of LA?
If anyone is listening out there, and has answers...I'd love to hear them!!!!!
Mind you, my phone is still broke.
I was just reading earlier at the office the interview with Willow and Jaden Smith and they talk about the construct of time and how we can control it. Time was and is definitely creeping by as slow as can be in this moment in my universe.
Pray for us (my family)
With the sincerest gratitude
UPDATE!!!!
He's back!
this is the longest he's been lost; it's been over 12 hours now. It's cold, all he had on was a light sweater, xabi had no sweater. Mom and I just got back from looking for two hours. How do you find someone in the dark, in the city of LA?
If anyone is listening out there, and has answers...I'd love to hear them!!!!!
Mind you, my phone is still broke.
I was just reading earlier at the office the interview with Willow and Jaden Smith and they talk about the construct of time and how we can control it. Time was and is definitely creeping by as slow as can be in this moment in my universe.
Pray for us (my family)
With the sincerest gratitude
UPDATE!!!!
He's back!
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Newsflash
we were doing sooooo well. He's lost now...I left at 10am to head to the office, he was still here. My sister calls my at 12:30pm, shes at my house, "Dad's gone! The back gate is wide open and so is the front door" She says she has to go, so I immediately call my brother to see what time he gets off or if he was in the area. I get my stuff together and leave the office.
I get home around 1:18pm. How come I can never remember what dad is wearing?! I drive around to his favorite spots, the park, the spots he was found before...nothing. I call the police, call my mom. My mom says to check a house around the corner where they also have french bulldogs...B T Dubs (by the way. a 7 year old taught me to say it that way) Xabi is missing too. Did dad take him for a walk? Did dad try to take him to the backyard and he ran out? Nobody knows.
I don't find him, I come back home.
I don't know what to do, I feel like I should be doing work as these are my last 3 days at this gig. I don't know if I should go out looking. I asked the operator when I called the police what I should do, to which she responds "whatever makes you feel safe?" Now what kind of response is that? Whatever makes me feel safe...did she learn that in training? Is that the script she sees in front of her? WTH does that mean? I wash the dishes, and eat my leftover gyro from lunch yesterday. I actually pick it apart because the pita is soggy. I ate my leftover yogurtland and then the po po comes.
At first it felt like an interrogation, or maybe thats what I projected on them...so many questions. Then I felt as more cars began arriving them feel more sympathy. I recounted the other times he got lost, Dez comes home doesn't find him. They ask for a recent pics..the most recent pics I have are on facebook so I pull one up. Mom comes home, she has a good pic. They take some pics to send out to the squad. What was he wearing, would he go to a bar, what are his habits, has he ever been fingerprinted...so many questions.
I talk to the neighbors across the street, one is upset because he didn't know he was developing dementia, she says she would have kept a closer eye on him. The others tell me they always see him walking and tell him to go back home.
On another note I dropped my phone while talking to the neighbors...the screen cracks...the police have my number, I can't answer it, I must go get it fixed!!!
He's still missing!!!!
to be continued...
I get home around 1:18pm. How come I can never remember what dad is wearing?! I drive around to his favorite spots, the park, the spots he was found before...nothing. I call the police, call my mom. My mom says to check a house around the corner where they also have french bulldogs...B T Dubs (by the way. a 7 year old taught me to say it that way) Xabi is missing too. Did dad take him for a walk? Did dad try to take him to the backyard and he ran out? Nobody knows.
I don't find him, I come back home.
I don't know what to do, I feel like I should be doing work as these are my last 3 days at this gig. I don't know if I should go out looking. I asked the operator when I called the police what I should do, to which she responds "whatever makes you feel safe?" Now what kind of response is that? Whatever makes me feel safe...did she learn that in training? Is that the script she sees in front of her? WTH does that mean? I wash the dishes, and eat my leftover gyro from lunch yesterday. I actually pick it apart because the pita is soggy. I ate my leftover yogurtland and then the po po comes.
At first it felt like an interrogation, or maybe thats what I projected on them...so many questions. Then I felt as more cars began arriving them feel more sympathy. I recounted the other times he got lost, Dez comes home doesn't find him. They ask for a recent pics..the most recent pics I have are on facebook so I pull one up. Mom comes home, she has a good pic. They take some pics to send out to the squad. What was he wearing, would he go to a bar, what are his habits, has he ever been fingerprinted...so many questions.
I talk to the neighbors across the street, one is upset because he didn't know he was developing dementia, she says she would have kept a closer eye on him. The others tell me they always see him walking and tell him to go back home.
On another note I dropped my phone while talking to the neighbors...the screen cracks...the police have my number, I can't answer it, I must go get it fixed!!!
He's still missing!!!!
to be continued...
Monday, November 10, 2014
Success, baby steps
We had a successful week last week in terms of no lost dad!!! Woooooooo whoooo jump for joy! Everytime I leave the house I make sure to remind him to only walk to the corner of the street and back and to leave the kitchen trash alone. So far so good!
I had an interesting convo with my mom this weekend as far as her feelings about my dad. We woke up Saturday to my dad wetting hisself and some urination on the floor. So I mopped it up, no worries, no stress no strain...I had to leave to go to my office so my bro said he'd finish cleaning up. As my mom and I drove home after going to the office, she said everytime that kind of thing happens she feels bad for my brother and I. So I asked her what was he feeling bad going to solve? She said nothing but she stills feels bad. So I explained how I felt about the situation and I didn't need her to feel bad for me. I asked how could we transform the disempowering feeling? And suggested that instead maybe when she felt that way she could think about how she doesn't have to do all the work like she used to and she has Dez and I to help her which takes the strain from 1 and divides it into 3! So I'm going to keep encouraging her to transform that mindset so that she doesn't create a sickness in her self.
Also my mom is working on getting his paperwork together so he can get his adult day care paid for. Come on state...approve this and get your butt in gear!!!
I had an interesting convo with my mom this weekend as far as her feelings about my dad. We woke up Saturday to my dad wetting hisself and some urination on the floor. So I mopped it up, no worries, no stress no strain...I had to leave to go to my office so my bro said he'd finish cleaning up. As my mom and I drove home after going to the office, she said everytime that kind of thing happens she feels bad for my brother and I. So I asked her what was he feeling bad going to solve? She said nothing but she stills feels bad. So I explained how I felt about the situation and I didn't need her to feel bad for me. I asked how could we transform the disempowering feeling? And suggested that instead maybe when she felt that way she could think about how she doesn't have to do all the work like she used to and she has Dez and I to help her which takes the strain from 1 and divides it into 3! So I'm going to keep encouraging her to transform that mindset so that she doesn't create a sickness in her self.
Also my mom is working on getting his paperwork together so he can get his adult day care paid for. Come on state...approve this and get your butt in gear!!!
Friday, October 31, 2014
Disappearing acts
Its a new day, and guess what..we're all still alive and kicking. Alas new developments...I'm on my way back home from a potential client lunch in orange county when my mom calls me. "Your dads appointment is at 3:00 instead of 3:30, can you bring him to me or take him?" My response "Sure I'll take him..." I get home, the TV is still on, I cut it off, and attempt to do some work before we have to head out, as I'm working from home today (no Halloween traffic for me!)! As my phone buzzes letting me know it's about 15 minutes until we need to leave, I open the door to wake up who I thought was sleeping father. HE'S NOT THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I yell dad, I look in the backyard, I look in the bathroom, check my moms room one more time...to no avail. (not again) He is lost!!!!! My parents have been here for about a month now and my dad has now gone missing for the 3rd time. 1st time my mom found him and my dog about .8 miles away, 2nd time the police found him about 3.5 miles away...this time I call my mom, let her know the scoop. She's headed home from work, I hop in my car and begin the search. No MRI today :/ He likes to be around people, so I stick to the main streets, up and down and around I go. I go to the spots he was found, I head to the park and places he's talked about from his walks alone and with my mom. Nothing. I drive by an ambulance and as I pass I do slowly to see if he might be inside, I don't see anyone so I hit a U turn at the next intersection to get a glimpse from another angle of the paramedic...still no one. I head home, call my mom, tell her I haven't found him, ask her to call the police...then I wait.
NUMB
That's the only way I can feel...I don't cry, I don't get mad, I just sit numb in my thoughts. I sit outside to wait for the cops and bring my laptop out with me to try to do a little work. I do get a bit of research done for the project, but as soon as I get in the groove of that, my mom pulls up. The police still haven't made it. "Guess they'll get here when they get here...they're taking their sweet time this time," she says. My mom goes in the house to change from her work clothes and comes back to the front, and just as I head inside, the police pull up. A sweet woman comes to the door, as Xabi tries to greet our guests, the male cop loves him. They ask for my mom, she comes right out. They begin conversing and my phone rings. I don't recognize the number, I answer, "Emily?" she asks. I said "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number." She says "Is your father Matthew?" I said "Yes! Who is this?" (she must have said Amber Reed...can sound like Emily if you say it really fast) Turns out he's in the hospital in Huntington Park. The lady cop takes down the address and phone number and replies that they will head there as well to make sure there's been no trauma. The nurse on the phone asks me his medical issues, and explains he seems to be confused. I still feel numb, in a zombieesque state, I'm not overly excited in the tone of my voice that they found him, or better yet that he remembered my phone number, but inside I definitely feel a deep sense of relief...Thank God! Source! Thank you Jesus! Whoever I should be thanking thank you! My mom gathers his information, medication etc. and we head out. "You're driving." She says. That's fine with me...let's just go make sure he's okay.
Somehow I knew in my heart that he was in a paramedic or ambulance...something pulled me to turn back around to look in that paramedic...I wonder if that was the paramed that did pick him up?! Hmmm
Nevertheless 20 minutes later we get to the hospital. A small quaint place with parking in the back. We see the police car, but no one inside. My mom and I head to the entrance. We wait patiently in the queue...he's in bed #3, "Thank you" I said. We go to the guard to sign in..."Only one at a time" he says. This is crazy! My father, Lord knows what happened to him is sick and was brought in by an ambulance, but I can't even go see him, what if he needs me, what if he dies in the next 10 minutes, I won't even get to talk to him, touch his still warm and lively body...all this flashes through my thoughts in a matter of seconds, before I even attempt to sit down in a chair and the waiting room and as my mom is escorted past the "security" door to the back. I jump on my phone to distract myself. She comes out fairly quickly and asks me to go back and talk to the nurse as I was the last one to see him and talk through this story he is recalling from his ordeal.
I get to the back see him and she immediately escorts me out of the room to chat. (I still can't talk to him to see if he's okay) She pulls me in another room and begins whispering...(why are we whispering?) He says you walked the dog this morning and he took some vitamins and he followed you to walk the dog and you got lost and he was trying to find you. Is this her story or his? I explain that I did walk my dog and he might have taken his vitamins and/or meds, but I don't know. I mean...IS MY DAD OKAY?!?! I walk away from her to find him being hauled off to get a cat-scan as the doctor wants to make sure he hasn't hit his head or anything too serious.
I head back out to the waiting room to meet my mom. She goes back in. Comes back out. We wait...Maury is playing in the waiting room "you are not the father!" Maury exclaims!!! The crowd cheers, the lucky not the father runs through the crowd gathering high fives. I can't believe this show is still on, I think to myself. We wait some more. My mom is hungry...she goes back inside, and now they want to do a chest x-ray. Ultimately my dad is going to be transported to Kaiser to be observed for three days, but this place is doing their due diligence before the transport...or are they?! My mom and I question their need for testing vs their need for money as they will be billing the insurance company...he's on Medi-Cal..thanks tax payers (ahem...myself included).
We eat next store at Jack in the Crack. Getting out of the hospital lightens the mood a bit. Shes exhausted from a full days work, I'm tired from driving, and cleaning, and searching, and waiting and waiting. My tacos are cold...I can't have cold tacos and be stressed out...somethings got to give. I give the cashier my two tacos back, and he brings me out 4 fresh ones...not cold, but not hot...I love my food hot...I'm hungry, so I eat.
We head back to the small hospital to wait some more. My phone is dead...my mom is dead tired as she nods off. "Was I snoring?" She wakes up. She wasn't...it's time to go home. My dad was going to be transported to a Kaiser hospital and my mom didn't want to drive to the hospital just to sit around some more. I mean I get it, he is okay, and it would give the caregiver(s) a bit of a break. She goes in to break the news to him. (I keep doing the double/twin wording in this post lol) She comes out..."he's mad, can you go talk to him and say goodbye."
I head to the back to talk to my dad..finally first time to get a real chat alone, and we're leaving. He's in his little bed...the small hospital is packed..there are 2 others in his room, at least there's a curtain separating them. "Hey dad!" He begins telling me the story of how he got lost. He also tells me how my mom brought him a 7UP when he wanted juice or water. (She said he said he wanted a 7UP, and he downed it when she brought it and said it was good. I believe her.) I told him that I needed to go home and take care of Xabi. He says I already did...I told him that was in the morning and now it's 7pm. He says okay go take care of him. "Are you okay?" I asked. He said he was, just a bit cold because of the one sheet he had. We talked a minute or two more about how they were treating him at the hospital. "I love you Amber" "I love you too dad" I grab his hand and head out.
We get home exhausted...I still have to walk Xabi. No Halloween party for me tonight...although my neighbor is still texting me to come over right now for his gathering. Needless to say I'm not going.
My chest still feels as though there are a ton of bricks on it. I somehow manage to get my continuing education requirement complete as this was the last day to finish it before I started typing this.
::exhale::
I feel a bit of a weight lifted as I finish this. There was a bit of time while I was waiting in the hospital where I reminisced about the dad that picked me up from the airport after basketball camp, my number one cheerleader, he was always excited and energetic about life. I think back and think about how I can't even access a lot of our good memories right now, although their are tons. Theres a smile on my face...water builds in my eyes. I can't cry, not now. He's alive...I have to be strong for mom, for me.
My mom is passed out, Xabi's passed out...I'm ready to do the same..
TTFN
I yell dad, I look in the backyard, I look in the bathroom, check my moms room one more time...to no avail. (not again) He is lost!!!!! My parents have been here for about a month now and my dad has now gone missing for the 3rd time. 1st time my mom found him and my dog about .8 miles away, 2nd time the police found him about 3.5 miles away...this time I call my mom, let her know the scoop. She's headed home from work, I hop in my car and begin the search. No MRI today :/ He likes to be around people, so I stick to the main streets, up and down and around I go. I go to the spots he was found, I head to the park and places he's talked about from his walks alone and with my mom. Nothing. I drive by an ambulance and as I pass I do slowly to see if he might be inside, I don't see anyone so I hit a U turn at the next intersection to get a glimpse from another angle of the paramedic...still no one. I head home, call my mom, tell her I haven't found him, ask her to call the police...then I wait.
NUMB
That's the only way I can feel...I don't cry, I don't get mad, I just sit numb in my thoughts. I sit outside to wait for the cops and bring my laptop out with me to try to do a little work. I do get a bit of research done for the project, but as soon as I get in the groove of that, my mom pulls up. The police still haven't made it. "Guess they'll get here when they get here...they're taking their sweet time this time," she says. My mom goes in the house to change from her work clothes and comes back to the front, and just as I head inside, the police pull up. A sweet woman comes to the door, as Xabi tries to greet our guests, the male cop loves him. They ask for my mom, she comes right out. They begin conversing and my phone rings. I don't recognize the number, I answer, "Emily?" she asks. I said "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number." She says "Is your father Matthew?" I said "Yes! Who is this?" (she must have said Amber Reed...can sound like Emily if you say it really fast) Turns out he's in the hospital in Huntington Park. The lady cop takes down the address and phone number and replies that they will head there as well to make sure there's been no trauma. The nurse on the phone asks me his medical issues, and explains he seems to be confused. I still feel numb, in a zombieesque state, I'm not overly excited in the tone of my voice that they found him, or better yet that he remembered my phone number, but inside I definitely feel a deep sense of relief...Thank God! Source! Thank you Jesus! Whoever I should be thanking thank you! My mom gathers his information, medication etc. and we head out. "You're driving." She says. That's fine with me...let's just go make sure he's okay.
Somehow I knew in my heart that he was in a paramedic or ambulance...something pulled me to turn back around to look in that paramedic...I wonder if that was the paramed that did pick him up?! Hmmm
Nevertheless 20 minutes later we get to the hospital. A small quaint place with parking in the back. We see the police car, but no one inside. My mom and I head to the entrance. We wait patiently in the queue...he's in bed #3, "Thank you" I said. We go to the guard to sign in..."Only one at a time" he says. This is crazy! My father, Lord knows what happened to him is sick and was brought in by an ambulance, but I can't even go see him, what if he needs me, what if he dies in the next 10 minutes, I won't even get to talk to him, touch his still warm and lively body...all this flashes through my thoughts in a matter of seconds, before I even attempt to sit down in a chair and the waiting room and as my mom is escorted past the "security" door to the back. I jump on my phone to distract myself. She comes out fairly quickly and asks me to go back and talk to the nurse as I was the last one to see him and talk through this story he is recalling from his ordeal.
I get to the back see him and she immediately escorts me out of the room to chat. (I still can't talk to him to see if he's okay) She pulls me in another room and begins whispering...(why are we whispering?) He says you walked the dog this morning and he took some vitamins and he followed you to walk the dog and you got lost and he was trying to find you. Is this her story or his? I explain that I did walk my dog and he might have taken his vitamins and/or meds, but I don't know. I mean...IS MY DAD OKAY?!?! I walk away from her to find him being hauled off to get a cat-scan as the doctor wants to make sure he hasn't hit his head or anything too serious.
I head back out to the waiting room to meet my mom. She goes back in. Comes back out. We wait...Maury is playing in the waiting room "you are not the father!" Maury exclaims!!! The crowd cheers, the lucky not the father runs through the crowd gathering high fives. I can't believe this show is still on, I think to myself. We wait some more. My mom is hungry...she goes back inside, and now they want to do a chest x-ray. Ultimately my dad is going to be transported to Kaiser to be observed for three days, but this place is doing their due diligence before the transport...or are they?! My mom and I question their need for testing vs their need for money as they will be billing the insurance company...he's on Medi-Cal..thanks tax payers (ahem...myself included).
We eat next store at Jack in the Crack. Getting out of the hospital lightens the mood a bit. Shes exhausted from a full days work, I'm tired from driving, and cleaning, and searching, and waiting and waiting. My tacos are cold...I can't have cold tacos and be stressed out...somethings got to give. I give the cashier my two tacos back, and he brings me out 4 fresh ones...not cold, but not hot...I love my food hot...I'm hungry, so I eat.
We head back to the small hospital to wait some more. My phone is dead...my mom is dead tired as she nods off. "Was I snoring?" She wakes up. She wasn't...it's time to go home. My dad was going to be transported to a Kaiser hospital and my mom didn't want to drive to the hospital just to sit around some more. I mean I get it, he is okay, and it would give the caregiver(s) a bit of a break. She goes in to break the news to him. (I keep doing the double/twin wording in this post lol) She comes out..."he's mad, can you go talk to him and say goodbye."
I head to the back to talk to my dad..finally first time to get a real chat alone, and we're leaving. He's in his little bed...the small hospital is packed..there are 2 others in his room, at least there's a curtain separating them. "Hey dad!" He begins telling me the story of how he got lost. He also tells me how my mom brought him a 7UP when he wanted juice or water. (She said he said he wanted a 7UP, and he downed it when she brought it and said it was good. I believe her.) I told him that I needed to go home and take care of Xabi. He says I already did...I told him that was in the morning and now it's 7pm. He says okay go take care of him. "Are you okay?" I asked. He said he was, just a bit cold because of the one sheet he had. We talked a minute or two more about how they were treating him at the hospital. "I love you Amber" "I love you too dad" I grab his hand and head out.
We get home exhausted...I still have to walk Xabi. No Halloween party for me tonight...although my neighbor is still texting me to come over right now for his gathering. Needless to say I'm not going.
My chest still feels as though there are a ton of bricks on it. I somehow manage to get my continuing education requirement complete as this was the last day to finish it before I started typing this.
::exhale::
I feel a bit of a weight lifted as I finish this. There was a bit of time while I was waiting in the hospital where I reminisced about the dad that picked me up from the airport after basketball camp, my number one cheerleader, he was always excited and energetic about life. I think back and think about how I can't even access a lot of our good memories right now, although their are tons. Theres a smile on my face...water builds in my eyes. I can't cry, not now. He's alive...I have to be strong for mom, for me.
My mom is passed out, Xabi's passed out...I'm ready to do the same..
TTFN
Thursday, October 30, 2014
The weak moments
So I've thought about writing about this numerous times...but out of sight, kinda out of mind a little bit right. Aside from the random calls from mom asking for help taking to the doctor or even calls from him (when his phone isn't broke).
I come home to a full house. My brother is home and in his room sleep, my dad greets me when I walk in the door asking if I've had a blessed day, pretty much making an assumption that's its been great because this is the day that God has made. My mom and my sister are in my moms room chatting.
My parents just moved in 3 weeks ago...
I wanted to write a post maybe a week ago, but somehow got distracted with other things that 30 somethings get distracted in from the daily happenings of life and responsibilities.
So I walk in the house from a full day of a 3.5 hour interview in downtown then heading to my freelance gig in Beverly hills after, to heading back to downtown for a friends birthday gathering; to overhear the conversation..."maybe he can move in with grandpa, there's plenty of grown men living there" for me to interject "you know he'll definitely be neglected there"!
Flashback to last Friday...I get a text from mom as I'm in class in Thousand Oaks "Dad is missing". Now this isn't the first time this is happened since they moved in. The week before he was lost again maybe found .8 miles away with my dog Xabi (Zah-Bee) looking like he is about to fall backward from walking for 3 hours. Only this time dad has been missing for 5 hours and the police has been called. There is a slight debate in my mind about whether I should leave class and drive home...mom sounds calm and in her natural demeanor as if this is a natural occurrence. Even if it's only for a split second, I kind of regret the thought, but my thought is, we'll find him...we always do, he'll be okay. (Once we thought we lost him in the city of New York when my family came to visit for my graduation from graduate school at NYU, only to find dad in the same movie theater but different movie that we were already in.). Nevertheless I leave after a minute of thought to head out to help mom and my bro look for dad. I get home an hour later, ask where they've looked, go in and change out of my business attire and get ready to head out to search when the police tell me they believe they've found someone who fits the description of my dad....HUGE sigh of relief! (I knew they'd find him, I could feel it in my soul)
Why has it become so natural to say the things that we say? Why is it so easy to think "we'll find him" and not panic?
My dad has Multiple Sclerosis.
He's had the ailment for the past 15 years or so.
After my sister left my house, as my mom and dad had a slight tiff about him placing his urine soaked (and I don't know what other smells permeate the fabric) outside...I felt a sense of despair. Not only for my mom, or my dad, but our family in general. How much longer can we keep this up? How can we keep going through this?
Now I am not writing this for sympathy or people to cry out poor you. I am writing this to aid myself as a sense of relief from the day to day.
I work on remaining as positive as possible, looking on the bright side of things. We could definitely be worse off, we could be living in the streets, I couldn't have a father, he could be confined to a wheelchair, or even gone by now...alas, he is still alive, can still walk on his own two feet (even if it's only for a certain amount of time), and can remember almost everything, for the most part. Sometimes though, it's tough...the tears well up in my eyes as I get to this point in the post. I sit and wonder at times...how did he get to this point? Is there a better way to "cure" himself? How does anyone get to this point in life? How does he continue to sit here day in and day out watching TV, walking the blocks, and laying around all day? I mean sometimes I can answer these questions, but EVERY SINGLE DAY?!?! It pains me to look in his eyes and see the pain, the regret, the lost hope, the sickness. To see my mom who was once so full of life, stressed, strained, unexcited about life, the energy and soulfulness continually being sucked out of her. Again, how do you get to this point in life? Like what has to occur, what has he done, what path has he taken, what path has she taken, what path am I taking to wind up in this, this world, this realm of being?!?!
So I work on myself daily...I work on being strong for me, for my family. They say you are what you think about most, and your thoughts manifest reality, so I work on my thoughts, and project as much of the positive and success and abundance and so many other things as possible...and then I get to points like this and I can't help but slump over and drop my head and think sorrowful thoughts, and I can't help but wonder if I'm contributing to the ailment and to the perpetual cycle of the world that we are all currently living in. And is it okay for me to feel this way, or is it wrong, and then it's like why can't I feel down sometimes, I can't always be up (or can I), because what is this creating for myself and my life? Is it really this complicated or am I over thinking things? My words are also powerful, so by writing this am I again contributing to the condition that we are in. Ugh...>!!>!>!
My head in my palms...I can't do much more than exhale. Not knowing what to do next...
show me the way...I'm listening
I come home to a full house. My brother is home and in his room sleep, my dad greets me when I walk in the door asking if I've had a blessed day, pretty much making an assumption that's its been great because this is the day that God has made. My mom and my sister are in my moms room chatting.
My parents just moved in 3 weeks ago...
I wanted to write a post maybe a week ago, but somehow got distracted with other things that 30 somethings get distracted in from the daily happenings of life and responsibilities.
So I walk in the house from a full day of a 3.5 hour interview in downtown then heading to my freelance gig in Beverly hills after, to heading back to downtown for a friends birthday gathering; to overhear the conversation..."maybe he can move in with grandpa, there's plenty of grown men living there" for me to interject "you know he'll definitely be neglected there"!
Flashback to last Friday...I get a text from mom as I'm in class in Thousand Oaks "Dad is missing". Now this isn't the first time this is happened since they moved in. The week before he was lost again maybe found .8 miles away with my dog Xabi (Zah-Bee) looking like he is about to fall backward from walking for 3 hours. Only this time dad has been missing for 5 hours and the police has been called. There is a slight debate in my mind about whether I should leave class and drive home...mom sounds calm and in her natural demeanor as if this is a natural occurrence. Even if it's only for a split second, I kind of regret the thought, but my thought is, we'll find him...we always do, he'll be okay. (Once we thought we lost him in the city of New York when my family came to visit for my graduation from graduate school at NYU, only to find dad in the same movie theater but different movie that we were already in.). Nevertheless I leave after a minute of thought to head out to help mom and my bro look for dad. I get home an hour later, ask where they've looked, go in and change out of my business attire and get ready to head out to search when the police tell me they believe they've found someone who fits the description of my dad....HUGE sigh of relief! (I knew they'd find him, I could feel it in my soul)
Why has it become so natural to say the things that we say? Why is it so easy to think "we'll find him" and not panic?
My dad has Multiple Sclerosis.
He's had the ailment for the past 15 years or so.
After my sister left my house, as my mom and dad had a slight tiff about him placing his urine soaked (and I don't know what other smells permeate the fabric) outside...I felt a sense of despair. Not only for my mom, or my dad, but our family in general. How much longer can we keep this up? How can we keep going through this?
Now I am not writing this for sympathy or people to cry out poor you. I am writing this to aid myself as a sense of relief from the day to day.
I work on remaining as positive as possible, looking on the bright side of things. We could definitely be worse off, we could be living in the streets, I couldn't have a father, he could be confined to a wheelchair, or even gone by now...alas, he is still alive, can still walk on his own two feet (even if it's only for a certain amount of time), and can remember almost everything, for the most part. Sometimes though, it's tough...the tears well up in my eyes as I get to this point in the post. I sit and wonder at times...how did he get to this point? Is there a better way to "cure" himself? How does anyone get to this point in life? How does he continue to sit here day in and day out watching TV, walking the blocks, and laying around all day? I mean sometimes I can answer these questions, but EVERY SINGLE DAY?!?! It pains me to look in his eyes and see the pain, the regret, the lost hope, the sickness. To see my mom who was once so full of life, stressed, strained, unexcited about life, the energy and soulfulness continually being sucked out of her. Again, how do you get to this point in life? Like what has to occur, what has he done, what path has he taken, what path has she taken, what path am I taking to wind up in this, this world, this realm of being?!?!
So I work on myself daily...I work on being strong for me, for my family. They say you are what you think about most, and your thoughts manifest reality, so I work on my thoughts, and project as much of the positive and success and abundance and so many other things as possible...and then I get to points like this and I can't help but slump over and drop my head and think sorrowful thoughts, and I can't help but wonder if I'm contributing to the ailment and to the perpetual cycle of the world that we are all currently living in. And is it okay for me to feel this way, or is it wrong, and then it's like why can't I feel down sometimes, I can't always be up (or can I), because what is this creating for myself and my life? Is it really this complicated or am I over thinking things? My words are also powerful, so by writing this am I again contributing to the condition that we are in. Ugh...>!!>!>!
My head in my palms...I can't do much more than exhale. Not knowing what to do next...
show me the way...I'm listening
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