Owl Love You Forever
A series of unfortunate events have followed me through these last two weeks or so- and although the pessimistic side of me is nipping at my ankles to turn my back on life, love, and hope; the optimistic and realistic sides have paired together to kick Miss Pess I. Mistic to the curb so the whole can function as best as possible under the current strains and circumstances.
Once I outline them you may say to yourself- 'shiv. I've heard worse. hell, I've been through worse.'-- well, I say to you, kudos for surviving it and I wish for all involved your strength and perseverance. [I have had worse moments as well-- but regardless of all my experience, some days are just flippin' harder to deal with than others] I'd like to take the opportunity to preface this (one of my pet peeves actually) by saying one or two of these events may not be so hard to prevail with a reasonable sense of sanity-- all of these combined have worn a tired girl thinner.
My daughter continues to have sporadic issues with the schedule. It is worse on Sunday nights after being home. Regardless of my words, or the shortness of the time away- her sadness carries through so heavily through the phone, that it takes all there is in me to not sob my way through a secret plan to 'break her out' and bring her home. I have bought books, talked, prayed, counseling groups; you name it, we've tried it... she is stubborn, and not easily relieved. Eventually, she will come to some sort of 'understanding'- or the court systems will allow her and her brother to make their own choices.
School. It is alot. I am overwhelmed. I am slacking. This angers me, saddens me,and I am disappointed in myself. This officially changed when I received a bad test grade the other day due to my negligence. Not to happen again. Certainly not out of negligence!
My marriage. It is tough. It is beautiful. Like life. Twists, turns, paths, etc, choices, etc, etc... This is the same for all of us in marriages- or even relationships--- but sometimes this uncertainty is daunting (and of course stressful)
I found out late last week that my grandfather has been diagnosed with lung cancer. He isn't that old- reasonably decent health (some maladies but overall not life threatening); but now has to decide if they will and how they will, if they do, treat it. I am not getting enough information. I need details. I want to know how big- how convoluted it is- life expectancy- life threatening- capable of removal- chemo/radiation- metastasized- etc... it is out of my control- which gives me panic- which leads me to stress- which leads me to not eat, in turn having headaches, and to top it all off cry easily... It is out of my control.
Accept. Support. Pray. Task duly noted.
My father called this morning (generally speaking, morning and late night calls have never proven to be a good sign)-- my stomach knotted before answering; I tried convincing myself that if I didn't answer- the bad news, whatever it might be, would not be true... on the third ring, I was not convinced and I answered. He proceeded to tell me that a friend of his, one I had known growing up, had died suddenly the day before. He was only 55. This may seem 'old' to some readers- but my father is only 53- and this gentleman was only 24 years older than me. My dad's friends have been dwindling off faster and faster- and I can only imagine that he begins to wonder if he will meet the same fate as them (sooner than later) and/or if he will be like my great-grandfather who died last year at the age of (almost) 96. He often indicated to my dad that he had spent a good portion of his life burying his friends and loved ones and he was left alone.
I had a test. Math. Oh boy, my favorite. Add insult to injury, I got a call from the kids' father. He left a message regarding nothing 'dire', but to call when I could. This also draws a gut wrenching reaction as our history has not been the kindest- the call is generally regarding request of half expenses I probably can't provide or damnation for my parenting styles. I would have rather received the vocal abuse than what I soon heard. His uncle died. A man I knew well. The family had watched cancer eat him away. When he was initially diagnosed with kidney problems (cancer)- I offered him one of mine if it would match, and/or help. I meant it. Unfortunately, this was not to be either of our fate... I thought of him as an uncle for many years- and never stopped caring for him even after the demise of my marriage to his nephew. I had sent a card a time or two, to give my regards and support- and am very thankful now for that bit of energy that was exerted to express a great love for him and his wife. The funeral is Friday. The family are all (rightfully so) shook up, and my heart genuinely hurts for them. (and for me)
So now, there it is. And here is where I say what I need to say to what might be said, or thought by you, me, or them... them. The collective 'them'.
There are positives. Had the opportunity to know these people- they lived a nice life- they are in a better place- they aren't hurting anymore--- blah etc and so on... oh! and a favorite: "it could be worse". Well, thank you kindly, this is enough. I understand better than some that life is a strange, often painful conundrum. Beautiful and bitter all in one- and that death, regardless of our objections; occurs. Often unfairly and suddenly, sometimes painfully and lingering-- rarely, if ever do we reach the ripe old age of [uncertain]number, kiss our loved ones good night, put on our best dress, and head off to eternal sleep.
It comes for us when it chooses, at no control of our own or others. It often comes without warning and almost never for those who solicit it.(with the exception of by their own hand of course) Death, for those it consumes, is not the hard part (loosely speaking). The challenge is left for the living. Those that remain- may be confused, angry, lost, broken, devastated, alone. Left to live without their loved one. Reminded of them and the finality of it all by a song, smell, or place. Left to re-piece the heart broken by their leave.
Initially, the weight proves to be almost unbearable and the motions of everyday functioning become mechanical. There are stages of mourning of course- set at no specific length or stage for any one person. Grief. Panic. Anger. Fear. Peace. Remorse for words spoken or left unspoken. Time not spent together, or many years knowing one another. Memories flash through you with the littlest provocation, some catching your breath by their surreal nature. Dreams remind us of that person and we awake with wet faces and cold sheets by the closeness ripped away from us upon awakening.
No more hugs, no more kisses, no more laughs, no more visits, no more calls, no more texts, no more notes, no more glance at the beauty that made us love them.
They are gone. We are present.
Left to sort through the pieces, support other loved ones, move on; loving and living harder than before (a good lesson to take). Reminded bitterly, that life is short and often vicious; and should be appreciated and loved (Mondays and all)-- for some time, some day, unbeknownst to us all-- we will be gone, too.
Once I outline them you may say to yourself- 'shiv. I've heard worse. hell, I've been through worse.'-- well, I say to you, kudos for surviving it and I wish for all involved your strength and perseverance. [I have had worse moments as well-- but regardless of all my experience, some days are just flippin' harder to deal with than others] I'd like to take the opportunity to preface this (one of my pet peeves actually) by saying one or two of these events may not be so hard to prevail with a reasonable sense of sanity-- all of these combined have worn a tired girl thinner.
My daughter continues to have sporadic issues with the schedule. It is worse on Sunday nights after being home. Regardless of my words, or the shortness of the time away- her sadness carries through so heavily through the phone, that it takes all there is in me to not sob my way through a secret plan to 'break her out' and bring her home. I have bought books, talked, prayed, counseling groups; you name it, we've tried it... she is stubborn, and not easily relieved. Eventually, she will come to some sort of 'understanding'- or the court systems will allow her and her brother to make their own choices.
School. It is alot. I am overwhelmed. I am slacking. This angers me, saddens me,and I am disappointed in myself. This officially changed when I received a bad test grade the other day due to my negligence. Not to happen again. Certainly not out of negligence!
My marriage. It is tough. It is beautiful. Like life. Twists, turns, paths, etc, choices, etc, etc... This is the same for all of us in marriages- or even relationships--- but sometimes this uncertainty is daunting (and of course stressful)
I found out late last week that my grandfather has been diagnosed with lung cancer. He isn't that old- reasonably decent health (some maladies but overall not life threatening); but now has to decide if they will and how they will, if they do, treat it. I am not getting enough information. I need details. I want to know how big- how convoluted it is- life expectancy- life threatening- capable of removal- chemo/radiation- metastasized- etc... it is out of my control- which gives me panic- which leads me to stress- which leads me to not eat, in turn having headaches, and to top it all off cry easily... It is out of my control.
Accept. Support. Pray. Task duly noted.
My father called this morning (generally speaking, morning and late night calls have never proven to be a good sign)-- my stomach knotted before answering; I tried convincing myself that if I didn't answer- the bad news, whatever it might be, would not be true... on the third ring, I was not convinced and I answered. He proceeded to tell me that a friend of his, one I had known growing up, had died suddenly the day before. He was only 55. This may seem 'old' to some readers- but my father is only 53- and this gentleman was only 24 years older than me. My dad's friends have been dwindling off faster and faster- and I can only imagine that he begins to wonder if he will meet the same fate as them (sooner than later) and/or if he will be like my great-grandfather who died last year at the age of (almost) 96. He often indicated to my dad that he had spent a good portion of his life burying his friends and loved ones and he was left alone.
I had a test. Math. Oh boy, my favorite. Add insult to injury, I got a call from the kids' father. He left a message regarding nothing 'dire', but to call when I could. This also draws a gut wrenching reaction as our history has not been the kindest- the call is generally regarding request of half expenses I probably can't provide or damnation for my parenting styles. I would have rather received the vocal abuse than what I soon heard. His uncle died. A man I knew well. The family had watched cancer eat him away. When he was initially diagnosed with kidney problems (cancer)- I offered him one of mine if it would match, and/or help. I meant it. Unfortunately, this was not to be either of our fate... I thought of him as an uncle for many years- and never stopped caring for him even after the demise of my marriage to his nephew. I had sent a card a time or two, to give my regards and support- and am very thankful now for that bit of energy that was exerted to express a great love for him and his wife. The funeral is Friday. The family are all (rightfully so) shook up, and my heart genuinely hurts for them. (and for me)
So now, there it is. And here is where I say what I need to say to what might be said, or thought by you, me, or them... them. The collective 'them'.
There are positives. Had the opportunity to know these people- they lived a nice life- they are in a better place- they aren't hurting anymore--- blah etc and so on... oh! and a favorite: "it could be worse". Well, thank you kindly, this is enough. I understand better than some that life is a strange, often painful conundrum. Beautiful and bitter all in one- and that death, regardless of our objections; occurs. Often unfairly and suddenly, sometimes painfully and lingering-- rarely, if ever do we reach the ripe old age of [uncertain]number, kiss our loved ones good night, put on our best dress, and head off to eternal sleep.
It comes for us when it chooses, at no control of our own or others. It often comes without warning and almost never for those who solicit it.(with the exception of by their own hand of course) Death, for those it consumes, is not the hard part (loosely speaking). The challenge is left for the living. Those that remain- may be confused, angry, lost, broken, devastated, alone. Left to live without their loved one. Reminded of them and the finality of it all by a song, smell, or place. Left to re-piece the heart broken by their leave.
Initially, the weight proves to be almost unbearable and the motions of everyday functioning become mechanical. There are stages of mourning of course- set at no specific length or stage for any one person. Grief. Panic. Anger. Fear. Peace. Remorse for words spoken or left unspoken. Time not spent together, or many years knowing one another. Memories flash through you with the littlest provocation, some catching your breath by their surreal nature. Dreams remind us of that person and we awake with wet faces and cold sheets by the closeness ripped away from us upon awakening.
No more hugs, no more kisses, no more laughs, no more visits, no more calls, no more texts, no more notes, no more glance at the beauty that made us love them.
They are gone. We are present.
Left to sort through the pieces, support other loved ones, move on; loving and living harder than before (a good lesson to take). Reminded bitterly, that life is short and often vicious; and should be appreciated and loved (Mondays and all)-- for some time, some day, unbeknownst to us all-- we will be gone, too.
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