An Effort to Calm

My days are going by quickly. They normally do, but now each one is a check on Dad’s life. I feel ill most days and don’t sleep alot. I prowl the house, read if I can concentrate, watch tv if not.

My sister and I talk alot, and I talk to mom every couple of days. The boys not as often, but they too, are on my mind constantly. I worry about them all until my stomach aches.

I worry about my brothers. G, the oldest is better now but they are both pretty closed up. Especially when it comes to dad. Rich has alot of anger yet. Greg has gone thru’ his. They’re both angry that the doctor can’t fix Dad. I worried Rich wouldn’t get back in time and that wouldv’e have been too terrible. I’m glad he’s home now. He didn’t (wouldn’t face?) that dad was so sick. I had to tell him. Oh yeah, nothin’ but fun times around here. Be nice if we could just “have” feelings. Nice and easy. But they come in a rush, overwhelm us and we don’t know what to do with them. So we fight them, as a rule.

I feel awful for my sister, being so far away. It’s so hard for her. I’m only a few hours from mom and dad, she’s 12 hours…it makes it harder. She’s now regretting that she didn’t come home more often, of course.

There’s always regrets. Everyone says “live life to the fullest…” “Do this..” Do that…” Like it’s your, or their, last day. But you can never do it all. How can you possibly? You have to do what satisfies you-and then no second guessing. We can torture ourselves endlessly with should’ves and could’ves. No, I don’t tell her that, well maybe gently, but I tell her all mom and dad has EVER wanted was for us kids to be happy and she is and has been and not to regret a thing.

It kills me to see dad like this. What he’s going through. He always hoped he’d just have a heart attack or something , never this. He doesn’t want us kids to see him so sick. He doesn’t want all this extra work for mom. He hates, always has, having us worry. I’m mad, so mad about that. Why couldn’t he just have had a heart attack?

And mom…who knows? She sounds cheerful and strong on the phone, but she’d do that if it killed her to save us kids from worry. When she told me, whenever it’s bad news, she just says it. She says she got the news, and then says it. Straight out. You hear the tone in her voice, “it’s bad, prepare yourself”. There’s never any “I don’t know how to tell you this”- not with the real bad things. Her voice gets shaky at times, but then she gets it under control.

She and dad’ve been married 53 years. She met him when she was 15, married him at 17. She’s strong though, and has always been independent so I’m hoping she’ll do as well as she can.

The whole thing is like a nightmare actually.

Lisa’s death is still hard. At times I feel haunted by her. A psychiatrist would have a field day. Mine would, except I’ve quit going.

Brie is still in her “Carl cycle” and the stress from that along with all this is just too much. I seem to be caught in some cycle of endless worry these days. On the surface, I can carry on conversations and laugh and etc., but I don’t remember much. My brain isn’t working-even less then normal-I forget constantly and I have a running conversation with Chipper. Good dog, listens well and is always interested. *smile*

I should be writing every night. Maybe I’d sleep. But the content seems so unreal and again, nightmarish, that I have no wish to visit it and veer from my office as I walk by.

It makes no sense to worry. It’s stupid. Worry doesn’t change a thing and normal or not, I simply cause myself more grief from it. Brie will do what she does and NOTHING I do or say will change much. If she keeps letting Carl stay there, she will get evicted. She’s been warned already. But she’s 19 and can’t fathom that actually happening. Still in the “that can’t happen to me” stage apparently. Seems like every couple of weeks there’s something, some new drama, and it’s just dragging me down. In normal times, I can keep it in perspective. But just now I merely feel more hopelessness and helplessness. <—oh the drama! Ok, that made me laugh. Oh WOE is me… *w* I have to remember to keep saying that. It catches me, you know? Better to laugh then cry.

Hubs is very good with grief. It amazes me. I mean he’s a guy, for one. Heh. And also, my family, is just not. Hubs holds me, and cries too sometimes-he’s heartbroken himself. He rubs my back, or my hair. Lets me go to yell when I get angry. Catches me if I fall.

So, that’s my days. Some days I catch myself, acting as if Dad’s already gone and I get mad at myself. But in truth, Dad is. The Dad we’ve always known. Since he began getting so sick a few years ago, and then this last year, he’s gone steadily downhill. I still see that Dad, even when I see him struggling in the walker or in the wheelchair or too weak to put his arms around me. He’s still my dad. The things I cry for are the things he can’t do and misses. In my eyes he’s still the strongest man in town.

*Back*

I see our darling Logan as much as possible. Just thinking of him makes my heart soften and brings a lasting smile. He’s been sick, first time, with a fever for the past couple of days, but seems to be ok now. Doc said it was just the changing weather and that he’s seen every child in town he thinks. *s* Last night his eyes were looking more normal, so I hope it’s done and him is all better now. Brie was up all night with him the first night, his fever was 100 or so, she said he felt boiling, but he was so sweet-smiling at her and no fussing.

He’s doing everything he can do and wants to do *more*. Sitting up, pulling himself up (yikes!), wants everything he see’s and then in the mouth it goes. He’s all boy and I adore him. His personality is coming thru’ strong and he’s a character. But still, with me, he cuddles right up to me and is content to be still. Drives Brie nuts!

He won’t know his great grampa, which breaks my heart, but I’ll tell him through stories and pictures about great grampa. It’s part of his heritage and within him. I’m going to tell him lots of stories I think. *s*

I miss you my friends and I need to hear about your life and how you are. I think of you often-ok, all the time. *w* So off I go now.

This felt good. Writing. I think I’ll be back soon.