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 sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Monday, December 8, 2014
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
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Xabi Alexander where are you?
Today marks a week since my fat baby has been gone...I haven't been able to do anything...I'm so resigned and cynical about life right now. Who would have known I'd be so sad about it. It's so funny, it's like people ask you "how are you?" It's such a natural way to enter into conversation, but no one really cares about the answer it seems, they just get an answer and move so quickly on to the next thing, I'm even guilty of it myself. What do you say to someone who says I'm sad, or do people even really care? I had someone who I've recently met in the last month call me up and ask how I was doing, this is last Friday, I told her "I've seen better days" and she immediately moves on to the next subject. I mean why even ask?! I mean I don't want to dwell or get into this whole sob story of it all, but I was terribly upset that day.
Then I think about what else I can do, and I post fliers and look and go to the pound and ask people on the street if they've seen Xabi. I post on Craigslist and Petharbor and on Facebook ...nothing. I got a call from a lady who saw my flier and she told me not to give up hope and suggested the Facebook page to me. I got a call from someone two days ago who said they saw someone that looked like Xabi on the streets on Friday. One woman even told me her friends lost dog was found 52 days later...I'm on day 7. Still nothing.
You know the phrase they say "you know who your true friends are" One of my true friends is Jenn! She lives in Chicago called me immediately when she saw my post and started calling fire stations and such for me all the way out there, she alerted all her friends out in LA and checks in with me to see how things are. I appreciate and love her! Another friend Audrey took me to lunch all the way from San Diego...granted she was already supposed to be up here...but nonetheless she still took the time to visit with me. There are others who shared my post and called me and I appreciate that.
I mean my entire routine is thrown off...I haven't wrote in my gratitude journal, I haven't been doing my daily affirmations, haven't been to the office...I'm simply down trodden. I don't think people understand how I am really feeling...I'm sure others have felt this way..I'm sure it will soon fade away with time, hopefully it will be because I found Xabi. My dad is upset and was crying about losing Xabi. I've done some work and got to the office, life does go on, but all I want to do is crawl into a ball and play candy crush and zone out or something. I just wish I knew something, is he alive, is he in a warm home, has he eaten?? Praying my fat baby is okay.
I pass by his crate and he's not there...I fall asleep and I don't hear him snoring...I don't have to leave time to walk him and give him food before I leave...his bowl is just sitting there empty, his bag of food limp. I pass by his toys and they're lifeless...I look in the backyard and he's not back there running around or chewing his rawhide...theres less shed hair on my socks...theres no one following me from room to room all day...sigh
I wonder how I brought this about into my life...what does it all mean? What thoughts was I thinking to create this? Why would I want to create this turmoil? What's the lesson in all of this? Is there a bright side? Ugh
My mom says shes going to give me money to get a new dog...but what about my fat baby...what about him?! I haven't necessarily lost hope...but it's hard when you just have no news. Somehow I wasn't as worried about my dad...I knew he would show up, I just knew it deep down in my soul. But Xabs was another story...I would visualize coming home from looking for them and find Xabi sitting at the front door after finding his own way home, alas it was my dad who found his way home and was sitting on the front porch when I got home. It's a great thing my dad made it after being gone 30 hours...seems like he didn't even have a sense that he was even lost. But it's a sad thing about Xabi.
I don't even know what to do with my life right now...I just need my fat baby 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...
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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