Hark The Herald Angels Sing!! Glory to the Newborn King!

It is Christmas technically in 1 hour 20 minutes. So today was the great "Eve" where some people work, some don't, I was lucky to be off. But back tomorrow for 5 days. 
So with my parents being in Heaven this season, it has obviously been a train wreck of emotions and crying. I'm not sure what I'm specifically crying over--the fact they aren't here to enjoy us all together, or the fact that I'm selfish and just want them here. Either way, they're not. They're in a place where i'm sure if you celebrate Christmas as a Catholic its probably the most spectacular thing. Auntie Joan is up their  Grandma Rachel, Grandpa Rooks, Grandma Florence, Cousin Kirk, Grandma and Grandpa Novotny, and Uncle Robert. I'm hoping they aren't too upset looking down on my sadness. I'm trying to keep my 's' together, but it's such a challenge. Apparently I need to change my attitude, and I think I can at least attempt this. If it helps me succeed and keep going on in work and life without the anxiety and issues, I guess I can get off my butt and try. 

My father got his headstone!! It looks beautiful! I want to kiss it! I can't actually do that lol. We decorated them both up, my Mom's too, but it did rain so I hope everything made it through the weather. We are tentatively meeting on Sunday at the cemetery and then dinner. I hope we can actually talk and not just hide in our separate areas and ignore the fact that we just buried our parents this year and and had our first holiday without them. I'm going to push for this. They won't listen--and I mean the brothers really--it'll be stupid conversations about music and cars and jokes. Nope. we will dedicate some conversation to our parents. Thats what we should have done the last time after my dad's burial.

Anyway. I promised that I would Run For Ruthie and Bike for Bob but I haven't done it it all. I have plans to to do it, I will. I know I will. I have to get through this hump of work related BS. And my relationship needs some tweaking so we an at least exist together. I love him with all my heart. I'm just hurt an I feel alone. I won't go into details, this isn't the venue. But It doesn't make the rest of my  goals happen any fast.

I miss them so very much. Its a pain I can't describe, its like a low grade fever, it never goes away---it makes me miserable long enough where I want to cry, but can't always do that, but sometimes I can. It always happens when I have the flashbacks. Which I never know when they're going to come. They can pop in any moment, or something can trigger them.  What hurts the most is the majority of the people that don't really know me, or try to get to know, don't give a care. "I'm not here to be your friend. Your home life doesn't come to work" or w/e.  OK, fine. I'll remember that. However, thats not the way it should be, and I wouldn't stoop to that level.

With that being said, the house will go to auction in 3 weeks. It can't go fast enough.  I'm praying it will give us a good chunk of money, I need a lot for the things I want to do. I want to go back to school so bad. Make my parents proud.

So Ruthie, I'll get back to running for ya, and Daddy, I'll start the biking when its possible. LOVE YOU BOTH and Merry Christmas!

I love my family, my sisters, brothers, nieces, cousins, aunts and uncles. I'm praying for some of them who really need it right now.

top pic: late 80's maybe early 90's Pamplona Christmas tree, decorated by myself and my Mom.

second pic: a week ago at my sister Terri's house after I decorated her tree. GO PACK GO! :) <3 

Looking Back on 2015...part 1

When "2015" comes to mind, I just sigh and go "uggggh." Obviously from the things I've written one would gather it wasn't the most warm and fuzzy year for me. With that being said, it wasn't all bad, there were some good parts.

Good things:

My mother was called to Heaven and leg go of her suffering.
I was able to have a surgery that provided me with the tool to lose weight and keep from gaining.
Travis became close to my Dad.
I discovered some new music that I love <3
I met some cool people.
I learned how strong I can be.
I started running again. (Although....I sorta haven't in a bit.....)
I got a bike and will be joining my cousins next summer in Iowa!
I learned that I'm worthy of someone who loves me
I attended therapy sessions that I learned a lot from
I reconnected with both sides of my family
I learned a lot about my parents younger days
I felt a lot of love when we had my their funerals
I quit a crappy job, and started a much better one
I learned that if I want something, anything at all, I have to make it happen, it doesn't come to me
I've learned to grieve without it ruining my life and dragging me down to the point of not functioning
I have planned for some awesome things to happen in 2016 and beyond.

I'm not going to talk about the "bad" things just yet but I know I will feel better about getting it out of my system. Maybe sometime soon. Right now, I have to take the advice of my grief counselor and that is 1) Relax, let things pan out the way they are going to pan out. 2) When something else seems to become a huge problem, it means that the other things that were what you thought were huge problems are now things you can handle and have control over....so now you have something new to "conquer." Basically, God isn't going to give me anything I can't handle. Its HOW you handle it that matters the most. I can choose to be depressed ALL the time, I can choose to not be active and to feel sorry for myself, or I can be active and socialize and try new things.

So my goals are to do exactly that. Take my own advice here! I need to log more miles for Ruthie, and hopefully I can start the biking portion for my Dad at some point too.

The reality is I'm going to have a lot of sad moments, days, times, and feelings. It's not going to end anytime soon. I guess its how I choose to handle them that really matter. At some point, hiding in bed crying isn't going to be the best solution....

"Run fast for your mother run fast for your father
Run for your children for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive..." 

--Florence and the Machine

Holidays Suck

Oh its one those days...I haven't had a good cry in a while.  I just watched the video I took of my Dad's ceremony last month; listened to the words that were spoken, watched the flag being presented to Terri. It's oddly comforting, yet so depressing and sad to lose him.

I feel like I didn't get to share certain things with him---a good laugh, a good cry that was mutual, a proud moment, a loving and kind moment. I feel cheated out of this. I feel like I should have tried harder to have these. I feel like why didn't he want to have them with me?

I am having a hard time with the fact that just a year ago they were both here, sick as they were, they were here in the flesh. I could at least see them. Now they are but dust in the ground. I am so sad. I miss them terribly. Its sos final, there are NO MORE memories that I get to make with them. They don't get to be a part of my every day life anymore. I can only hope they are watching from Heaven, and even that's not a given--who knows if thats even how it works in this universe. I tell myself that's how it is probably just to ease the pain of this loss.

I still cannot believe my dad is gone. Seriously? How? Is it real? Will I wake up from a dream? Will this all be a dream??? No. Its not. This is real life, and it sucks sometimes.

And its not even like they died under crazy tragic circumstances--no trauma, no accidents, no murders, just regular aging, diseased, death. But having looked back on their lives, realizing how simple yet meaningful they were to me and my siblings makes it just as traumatic to me. You only have one set of parents, no matter how you lose them, its hard.  And with the holidays and the anniversary of my mom's death/my birthday coming up, I'm just not looking forward to any of it. I want it all to fly by. I want to rush this whole next 6? months. I want to fast forward a little. And winter being here, thats definitely not fun. I'm not looking forward to the shitty weather and dark days. Spring and summer are what I prefer.

I know one day I'll be reunited with them, and I'll have all sorts of things to tell them and share with them. And if its like how I think it is, they'll already know about it, but I'll get to tell them. My spirit in Heaven will reunite, and it will be beautiful and amazing. Thats what I'm counting on, so I hope my God will make this happen.

Negativity? Whaaa?

Ahhhh. A long week is over.

It sucked!

I broke up with the better half. Well, we still live together. We have no choice. Thats life. Everyone says that its bad to do this, but I'm the one who has to live it, not them. So sorry not sorry, we're staying in the apartment at least until I get my inheritance.

With that being said, its just one more thing to add to the list of Shitty 2015. I'm pissed because someone stated I was a negative person in a situation that I feel I am not. So I have to improve that.
If you know me, you know that I'm just as negative as the next person, but nothing or less. that's called being human. I lost my parents, Aunt, a relationship, a house, and other issues. Sorry I'm not Susie Sunshine all the time at work. I'll do my best. Thats all I can do.

Still having flash backs; still crying each day; soldiering on and getting through is all I can do. I'm lonely and and bored a lot, but I'm too depressed to do something. Which sucks, I have bike riding to do, and so on. I will get to it. I'm not going to let the "negativity" drag me down lol.

So even though I have made it clear my feelings, its still shitty because I see the hurt, I see the confusion, I get it. But someone had to do it. I'll just leave it at that.

Sorry Daddy, you're idea that I'd marry him isn't coming to fruition. My Aunt will be sad too! I'm sorry.

This is when I would need my mom. She could at least help me through this when she was in her right mind and not sick.  *sigh* I miss them both so damn much. So many memories, reminders, so many "I can't believe that happened!" So much of that.  Grieving is hard work.

I feel like if I free myself from the "negativity" or the things that are weighing me down, maybe I'll feel better. I can find new friends, and I can find what I need and want. I can't help it, its my life and I want to be happy. If I can't have my parents, then fuck it I want to be happy.

Ok I'm just rambling now...

Lets get on with the holidays please. There's several stations on XM that play Xmas music already. It reminds me of my mom. I can't ever listen to it probably not until I have kids. Its like hell.
BAH HUMBUG!!!

New Direction For The "Blog"

"If I leave you it doesn't mean I love you any less, keep me in your heart for a while." Warron Zevon

I was unsure of what direction I wanted this writing to go in--should it be my opinions, detailed life, down to the last name and quote, or should I keep it more about the general feelings and struggle? I think I'll chose the later. I don't want to offend anyone. I would like other people to see this and read about the struggle that is very real of a recovering care-taker who is still grieving and lost.

I don't even know where to begin. I'll cut and past parts of some previous posts so that this is cohesive and make some sense, flowing more in order then not....but I am by no means a writer. I don't go to school for it, I'm not formal, the most I know is some grammar...and thats pushing it. Mostly its just ideas and feelings and opinions all jumbled into a few paragraphs. So maybe along the way I'll make progress towards being a better writer. I know when I go back to school that's a given--lots of writing...and it will have to be better or I'm not going to pass :)

OK. Onward.

At this point, my grief is really having a way with me. Mostly just during downtime--this occurs when I'm sitting at home waiting to go to work. Or when I'm off, driving around town, running errands, going through boxes of stuff since we just moved. Today it must have happened no less than 10 times. Once or twice a few tears came, but I'm moved on and kept doing the task at hand. I even stopped at Pamplona to check on it.  Let me tell you, seeing the house you grew up in very empty and    just alone is saddening. It used to be filled with tons and tons of stuff. And now, its empty. Bob and Ruth's house is officially empty. I want to sell it, and move on...keep on moving seems to be the only way I can handle this situation. The more time I have to think about it makes it worse.

With this all being said, there is the component of missing my Mom and Dad and how different it is with each of them. There are similarities. I feel so f-ing cheated with my Mom because she suffered so greatly with something she didn't ask for and was cheated out of at good solid 4 years or more of her life that she could have enjoyed more. My dad was sick, he had accomplished a lot in his life. He knew that the smoking is what did it to him, and he said that on numerous occasions, and he made peace with that part. My mom couldn't make peace with a f-ing thing, unless she did it in her own mind; I know she had no memory and her brain changed, but I think she had time to think about it while she was getting to the end.

There is a family component to all of this that has been a roller coaster at least for me. I'll leave it at that.

We had my Dad's burial service on his birthday, 10/30. Ann and Andrea attended and visited for a few days. The service was beautiful. I recorded all of it. I read a poem at the burial site, played music. We were pleasantly surprised that my Mom's stone had come in and was there. My dad is just to the left of her. I need to get out there and visit more, but lately it hasn't been in the cards lately. Soon I'll be there more often. Flowers, decorations and all those good things.

The sadness for me comes from not only just not being able to talk to them in the flesh, ask them questions, physically touch them, but the fact their life is over. There's nothing left. I HOPE they are in Heaven, I hope they are watching down on us. I pray they are because without that, then....I just don't understand this crazy world. Where would you go? Your spirit that is. Why wouldn't it be something magical, watching your loved ones from Heaven? Thats what I'm hoping otherwise what in the hell do I have to look forward to???

I keep flashing back to the day of my Mom's funeral. There are more things I wish I could have been able to say when I had my chance. I have these memories of it, holding Aunt Susie's hand and singing silently "Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What A Wonderful World" with her. I will always cherish that, and Travis was with me on the other side holding my hand. I smiled as a sung, because I knew she would be smiling.

With my dad, I sang silently along to "Landslide" by Stevie Knicks/Fleetwood Mac. I picked it because it was something I had heard when I was about 14 or 15 and it became popular off of their live album, and also by the Smashing Pumpkins and it just reminded me of him. I think we had been having some squabbles at the time, you know, a hormonal teenager growing up. I remember walking Duncan on the bike path and listening to it thinking, someday, I'd play this at his funeral. I remember after all those years.

I know that I am ultimately responsible for taking care of myself after this as far as therapy goes, so I'm going to try to get on that more. I have an appt with my Gilcrest therapist on 11/25 so I'm gearing up with what to talk about and questions to ask. I'm trying to journal here and there (on paper) and see if that helps. More of the personal things, stuff I wouldn't put on here because it isn't appropriate.

If I had to say one year ago today that I'd be in this position, I wouldn't know what to say. I figured I'd be at home on Pamplona with the routine of taking care of my Dad.

If I had to say this was my sole calling in life then so be it, at least i made a difference in my parent's lives and I can rest easier knowing that they were loved and cherished by all of us kids above and beyond.

Love you Daddy, Love you Mommy. Happy belated 85th Daddy! Happy Belated Veteran's Day! Semper Fi! 

Its getting real now!

Wow what a week...or 2 or 3.
Working full time, trying to pack up a 5 bedroom house to fit into an apartment is no joke. So immediately its survival mode--no exercise, stress eating, snuggling with dogs, and no spending money.

Tomorrow we rent the uhaul and start loading; we have to truck until Tuesday. So I think we'll get it all done. I'm so over this working every day of the week lol...I stand for almost 6 hours or more a day even though my shift is only about 7 hours. Its non-stop standing and going back and forth. I really need to invest in some decent Nike's. They are the best for what I'm doing--I remember back to those days of standing a lot!! I hated it! But the trade off is that its not so so bad, like I thought it was going to be during training. The training was way crazy, and not at all what I thought the job would be. There are some things that I'm not completely confident in; and I'm sure because I'm working with the least personable person tomorrow that I''ll probably be ready to kill her or me or both of us by 3. Probably 11am. Who knows. I'm going to try myself to win her over as far as this cold as ice exterior she gives me. Sunday and Monday I'm off and packing/moving. We got the truck money squared away, so thank god, or we'd be using the Tacoma!

I know that it will be emotional coming up in the next couple weeks until after my family leaves. It will be great when they get here and we get through the burial service and I can enjoy their company for a few days before heading back to work. Hopefully we can get the apt squared away so that we're not living in box hell for weeks at a time too. I want to start spinning class this fall so I can get the biking thing. That is my goal.

So Ruthie, and Daddy, we're getting there....slowly but surely. I still have big plans for the future!!!

Therapy.

We've been going to therapy at Gilchrest Hospice in Columbia. We had them for mommy, so we are entitled to free sessions. So Terri and I've gone 3 times. I want to get the most of it, so I'm going to try to write something things that I want to discuss. Thats the hardest part. Remember what to say and how to get every minute of worthiness out of it.

I feel so cheated, I remember being with her at the end; I remember thinking I would be relieved it was over, but so fucking beyond pissed and angry that it just happened---that ALL of it happened- to my mother. My beautiful amazing brave and special mother.

I remember shopping for something to wear for the funeral; I couldn't find a damn thing. I remember picking the music out with Terri. I remember seeing her for the last time. Walking out of the room crying, but also feeling the weight lifted. I remember telling Mary I loved her so much and that I was so glad she was a part of our family and hugging her.  We hadn't really had a moment like that ever.
The sun came out too as we walked out to the parking lot.

I couldn't process the first night in my life without my mom. I remember having this nauseated feeling come over me, I felt strangely sick.  I had to all Travis back into the room, I was so alone. I wanted to cry, but i wanted to sleep. I wanted to just...be. I wanted her back, I want her to be in Heaven. I wanted to see my sister Ann, she would be coming in a couple days. I wanted to tell the world "She's gone! My mom is gone! My mom died!" I wanted to talk about it, I wanted to just fall apart. But all I could do was sleep. I was concerned about my dad. He was so sad, so sick and so exhausted. I wanted to hug him. But he wasn't a hugger. Maybe I should have just tried. He did open up to Travis a lot though in the upcoming months.

I remember writing my speech.  I rewrote it 4 times, finally making it just what I wanted. I could have spoke for 30 minutes if I was allowed. I had so much to say.

I remember how cold it was. That bone chilling cold air. February was not very forgiving. We had her service on Valentine's day. I eulogized my mother on Valentine's day, the day of love. I've never loved someone as much as her. My dad maybe, they're equal. So it was fitting. Sending our love up to Heaven on a day that Love was in the air.

I remember after that weekend was over and we dropped Ann at the airport and hung out with Aunt Karen and Uncle David in DC that my surgery was about to come up. It happened the weekend after we had my mom's funeral. My poor dad was so worried when we drove home in the snow. It was bad weather. he called me like every 15 minutes. I didn't mind. It took us 4 hours to drive 40 minutes. Then him and I spent the week at home together; grieving every night; "I miss the little woman!" I would make him dinner and eat with him. I was on my fresh-post op diet so I was limited. We shared that time together, I'll always remember it. During the day he'd ask from his recliner "You ok Sara?" He really cared and was concerned. I'll treasure that forever.

Flashbacks to my dad mowing the lawn 15-20 years ago on a sunny day; him coming up on the deck and coming in to get water.

Shopping with my mom. Before she was sick.

My purple walls--Martha Stewart Lilac paint. My quilt set from QVC. My blue carpet from Home Depot. My shade and valence. I still have them.

She ironed my uniform for my nursing clinicals. I remember seeing her in the living room with ironing board out doing it. That was right when she started getting sick.

Watching Match Game at night in between babysitting and my evening classes and just laughing.

I see my dad in his recliner every time i close my eyes it seems like. Or my mom laying in her hospital bed, dying. I remember her smile when she looked at me that last time and i said "I LOVE YOU!" and she said "I LOVE YOU TOO HUNNY!" she never spoke again. She basically shut her eyes. And never woke up. She died Sunday after she told me that Thursday.

Always having the presence of one or both of my parents in this house. When I was younger mostly.

Christmas, seeing the tree lit up; always green and blue which I've carried on in her tradition.

My God, how much I miss that woman. Why does she have to be gone so soon????

We're knee-deep in boxes.

Flashback day. TONS of them.


So last week. I worked 5 days in a row. For most, this is totally normal. Not for me. I used to work 3 then a day off then a couple or a weekend or something. At a job where I could wear street clothes, whatever shoes I wanted, and we basically could fuck off when we wanted. Now I have a set uniform. I actually do shots, procedures, do IV's and fluids. I haven't done much with the babies and kids. I'd prefer not to. I give out tons of vaccinations including but not limited to the flu and t-dap. Strep tests. Nothing like Springfield.

But all the fear and anxiety I had was gone, for the most part, and I got through it-albeit I was exhausted. Standing for 7 hours mostly. I'll get used to that. I don't hardly eat at work, so thats good. I try to drink a lot of fluids but I don't always have time to do that. I guess I can safely say it'll get even better and I'll have crappy days and I'll have good days. Thats every where. Back in tomorrow at 830am!

Yesterday we both started the big pack job. HOLY HELL. I have a lot of stuff. A lot of it was inherited from my mom. I don't know if our apt will have room for all of it, I think I'll be investing in a storage unit somehow. And going through all of this stuff one or two more times. Packing sucks but packing and being exhausted doesn't help. Then today we had to have a big pissy fight about Bugsy peeing in the kitchen because no one let him out. Its always his job to let them out at night. I'm asleep! He stays up til 1 or 2. Its his job to let them outside in the back. I don't know how this is going to work once we move. We're going to have to invest in some extra carpet to go over the carpet :( How ghetto.  So after argument after argument we got started; dropped off a truck load of stuff at the Good Will then started packing the kitchen. So much crap. I had to wrap the delicate, breakable stuff. And I find stuff that belonged to my mom or dad and mostly, I was good. I didn't cry. But a few sobs here and there. 

The topic came up numerous times about our relationship and how much we are out of it, and how much we are more like roommates. I broke it down for him--you can't have a tantrum then say "Fuck you!" to me and expect me to be in love with you. Its borderline abusive. I don't like it. It makes me not want to be with you or trust you to have my back or be my man. But we did get 1/3 to 1/2 of the kitchen packed and the rest should go quickly. Its the rest of the upstairs that i'm a little worried about. But like every other move, Ive had it done in the nick of time. So I bet thats how this will go. I just want to get on with it. We need money too, and we need to sell this house. So even though it kills me in ways people don't always understand, this house will no longer be mine, and it will have to be sacrificed in order to move on. I will be an absolute wreck at some point, when its literally not ours anymore. When the keys go bye bye. When I can't walk in the door. When I can't go in the back yard. So sad. Incredibly heart breaking. I'm sort of looking forward to burying Daddy, just because we will all be together one last time. Except for Maggie. We need to really have a sentimental moment: These are our parents. They are are going to be buried next to each other forever. They are responsible for creating us. I feel like we need to share a moment. I need to cry, hug, and love with everyone. Family is #1. We are always going to be related, blood is thicker then any fight or petty bullshit. Could we actually enjoy yourselves together now that we have no more of these problems?

I want to go on here eventually. I want to do me. I want to do my life. I want to try new thing, I want to have kids, have the love of my life with me everyday; loose the anxiety. Loose the sadness. I want to do the things on my bucket list. I only have one body, one soul, and I need to use it accordingly, especially since I'm already 35. I need to become the Sara that everyone will one day remember when I'm gone; I am incomplete right now. 

"You can tell the sun in jealous in his sky, when we walked in fields of gold. 
You'll remember me..."

Grief is...

I didn't realize how much grief I had deep down inside of me at this time. I think it manifested in other ways throughout the summer. I wasn't busy, so I kept busy with things I wanted to do. Now I'm working....5 days a week. And if you know me, I'm used to a different type of job  and schedule.
And we're moving in about 1 1/2 weeks. That is going to kill me. But it is definitely for the best because it's killing me living here, with all of the memories. So the logical and smart thing to do is move on, no matter how painful it seems at first, it will pay off in the end.

I have been seeing a Gilchrest grief counselor with Terri twice now, and I think it's helping although I could go for 4 hours a week and it would barely skim the surface. I still remember sitting at Witzke's holding Aunt Susie's hand with my left hand and Travis's with my right singing along to "Somewhere Over The Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" (which is playing while I type) and I automatically feel the same feelings I had that day. You were gone...you are now ashes...you are not my mom in the physical sense, you are my mom in the Heavenly sense. I remember feeling like "i can't believe this is happening, but I know its happening, so I'm going to soak it all in."

We did walk in fields of gold; I will keep you in my heart; I will remember my birthday, and February  8 as well as Valentine's Day in a completely different way now. Sometimes sobbing and getting out the tears is cathartic and helpful, which is what is happening while I'm writing this. I haven't even touched on the fact that I'm still so angry at ALZ for taking your life. Making you suffer the way you did. Making you feel like you didn't know your loved ones, making you hurt, making you confused and scared. I can only pray that you deep down inside felt the love from all of us. I really wish that I could help be a part of the movement to help cure this disease, or at least education everyone on what an ordeal it is. There is such a huge lack of education for family and caregivers--the problem is no one knows where to go to get answers or help or how to cope themselves, both the patients and the loved ones. I'm still lost and your death has already happened! I can't imagine going through this again with someone. I pray no one in our family develops this disease.

Grief is.....overwhelming, scary, mind-numbing, intruding, demanding,  and down right awful.

MY SUNSHINE ALWAYS AND FOREVER. I LOVE YOU RUTHIE! I MISS YOU LIKE CRAZY!

Its always emotional around here!

So Ruthie, I'm starting a new job this week; I sort of started last week. It's at Patient First. We took you there once to have your hand stitched and give you a tetanus shot. I also applied and interviewed at HCGH for my old job. I haven't heard back from them yet but I will follow up next week. I'm not sure if I want to go there or not. I want to see what PF is like first. So far everyone's been nice to me and it doesn't seem to stressful, like what I had before. I have to have faith in myself and stop fearing everything. I can do this. Please watch over me and guide me through this, I still need your help in that department.

Daddy I'm sorry, I tried to get your house together. I'm sure whoever buys it will make it a nice home, just like you did. I love you. Please watch over me. Please watch over Uncle Jerry, Aunt Annette, Uncle Fred, and Aunt Beah. I can't imagine life without them. We have the big reunion planned for next summer too, and they HAVE TO BE THERE!!!

PS, How bout them Packers? GO PACK GO!

Its almost official...summer 2015 is over.

I love summer. Despite the fact that it was the worst summer ever besides maybe 2008.  But, summer is coming to an end. The teachers went back this week, the kids go back next week. I'm not sure how I feel about this. It means 2 things--time is flying by. Time is distancing me from June 14.

The house stuff has been on hold, thank God, for about 2 1/2 weeks now, which I guess is good only because I started working yesterday and I don't really have the brain capacity to deal with anything more. I'm praying that it just goes smoothly and I can fly under the radar. Its getting to be a pain in the ass just to walk the poor dogs everyday! LET ALONE RUN! And I'm embarrassed to say that I haven't had a chance to ride the bike I was dying to have. As I type, my left leg muscles are twitching. I'm trying to guzzle as much water as I can since I'll be at the Orioles game tonight and it is hot out.

I'm not going to quit. I'm not done, I just haven't focused on this and put it in my daily routine like you would if you were really organized :P I have goals and dreams and despite what all the cute memes on the internet say, they're damn hard to accomplish!

I've got some actual "homework" to do for work--I gotta brush up on some actual nursing topics. My cardiac drugs, vaccinations, pediatrics in general; shit. Everything? I just spent 5 years babysitting adults who could hardly handle walking to a fucking dining room to eat a meal. Juice and cookies?? None for you! Or, here are you meds..."THESE AREN'T MY MEDS BITCH!" *sigh* I have keys. You don't. If you want to leave this shithole, I suggest you take them...

There are a lot of things I want to write in here but I don't think they are appropriate considering that I am aiming this blog to be more about the grieving process I'm experiencing with my parents and what I'm doing to combat that.

Work will definitely help with that. I need to incorporate some exercise into this. I need a left leg to stop giving me fits too! And the weather hasn't been all that wonderful either, very hot and humid. It's one thing when its the beginning of the summer and its new, but now that we're weeks into it, it's getting old. I'd rather sit at the pool. I wish I had someone to go to the pool with me :( It gets lonely being there. I'm not watching kids there like I used to back in the day, and Travis doesn't like to go. So I'm stuck alone. Watching all the mom's and dad's and their kids. And when I go to the River Hill pool, I  feel like the pauper who is visiting the prince's neighborhood!!! I have loads of ideas for short stories and book topics...but thats a whole separate thing that again, doesn't relate to this blog. Oh you didn't know? I will write a book someday...I'm not sure exactly what about but I will. Fiction I suppose, because writing about my life or experiences seems too hard and painful. Plus I'm sure I'd offend someone. Can't do that now can we?

Maybe by the next time I write in here I'll have something worthy of writing about. A run, a bike ride, something.

This is my Uncle David, my mom's little brother.

And his daughter Kari and her daughter Mary Louise. Uncle David's 69th birthday was

last week :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I love these people to death <3

You were born this way, baby

I can't help it I was born last, the 6th of 6. I am so thankful to be born in such a great area. Columbia has been a really awesome place to grow up and work in. I have a love/hate relationship with it---it's so expensive to live in. But there's so many perks so its worth the price in my opinion. Who knows, maybe one day I will buy a house around here.
Any who, that wasn't the point of this posting.

I got my bike today!!!!! I GOT MY BICYCLE! I WANT TO RIDE MY BICYCLE! oops sorry, got a little excited :P   Had to lower the seat, like, Compton style,  and then tilt that thing down so it's not up my who-ha like a ....yah.

Rode for a few minutes just to get used to it. I am in love. Will get back out tomorrow. I need to figure out the shoes though. No clips. And form and posture. I need to learn that. And for god sakes is there a long flat surface ANYWHERE in this damn town? I need to practice lol. Iowa is full of hills, like any roads. Don't tell me its flat because no where is completely flat. Except North Dakota where you can watch your dog run away for 2 hours. (That was a recent joke posted on Facebook too.)

I told my Aunt Beah today about my bike and how I want to ride with her kids (my cousins) Troy and Ty and my second cousins Andy, Lucas, and whomever else is in on this ride. My other cousin Putzy is doing it again this summer too, but with his own group I guess. It's going to be a blast! I'm dying for this moment to be with my family. I'm praying it all works out so I can do it.

Speaking of family, my dad's brother, my Uncle Jerry, well his wife is in the hospital. Aunt Annette. Dear sweet Annette. She broke her ankle too! I am praying for a smooth recovery. Poor Uncle Jerry, can't catch a break.  My Aunt Beah's husband, my Uncle Fred is trying to get well so he can go on his guys fishing trip with his boys and grand kids. I hope he can enjoy it all--he has cancer too; partial lobectomy done...what a troopah. Seriously, does every get sick all in the same 5 year span??? I guess
I better live it up now :) Better keep dancin like we're 22 as Taylor Swift says. ;)

I talked to my Uncle David tonight. His 69th birthday is this week. Holy shit where does the time go? He's the young oops like me on my mom's side. So next year will be the big 70, thats means another party. I feel like I've got 5 vacations planned already for next year. I hope I can pull them all off.

It is possible i might get up and run in the morning tomorrow...In fact I think I'll try. Ruthie I'm going to try to bust out a run for ya. A short one, maybe Lake Elkhorn. Since its been almost 3 weeks. I gotta get back out there. Must stay active. Stop drinking iced coffee and other sugary drinks!! No more red meat. We will be getting some fish up in this house!!!! Anyway.

Keep sending me love from above <3 <3

That is Lidgerwood, North Dakota, Main Street? 1908. When my grandmother was a little bitty girl. I think she lived some where nearby on a farm though. But I've been on that main street. and I vaguely remember it. Thats where it all began, were my grandparents met and married and started their awesome family, and all the love in my heart comes from <3

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier article

My uncle sent me a forward about this topic, so I further checked in on it because part of it didn't sound right. Not being about to talk and not drinking alcohol forever? Didn't make sense. However, this is still a very cool article and I wanted to save it somewhere. My dad probably already knew everything in it too :)  I have yet to visit ANC and would like to at some point, maybe this fall if possible.

“ARLINGTON’S TOMB OF UNKNOWNS: SENTINELS AT THE TOMB WALK EXACTLY THIS MANY STEPS AT A TIME BEFORE THEY STOP & TURN”

In terms of my own discoveries, I wasn’t sure if the right name is Tomb of the Unknown Soldier or the Tomb of the Unknowns. It turns out that it is commonly known by both, but there is no official name.

Herewith, a breakdown of the still-circulating email.

TOMB OF THE UNKNOWN SOLDIER AT ARLINGTON CEMETERY

1. How many steps does the guard take during his walk across the Tomb of the Unknowns and why?
   ANS: 21 steps: It alludes to the twenty-one-gun salute which is the highest honor given any military or foreign dignitary.
   Snopes says: The guards do make 21-step walks past the Tomb of the Unknowns because 21 is considered a number of special significance. It relates to a naval “code” of canons on land replying with 21 shots to a ship’s 7-gun salute. Read here for the origins of the 21-gun salute.
2. How long does he hesitate after his about face to begin his return walk and why?ANS: 21 seconds for the same reason as answer number 1.
   Snopes says: This is a somewhat true but incomplete statement. The guard does not execute an about-face, and there is more involved in the procedure than is described here. This other site describes the process more precisely.
3. Why are his gloves wet?
   ANS: His gloves are moistened to prevent his losing his grip on the rifle.
   Snopes says: Correct.
4. Does he carry his rifle on the same shoulder all the time and, if not, why not? |
   ANS: He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the tomb. After his march across the path, he executes an about face and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder.
   Snopes says: OK.
5. How often are the guards changed?
   ANS: Guards are changed every thirty minutes, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.
   Snopes says: From 1926 through 1937, the Tomb was guarded only during daylight hours. Ever since 1937, it has been continuously guarded 24 hours a day, every day of the year. Sentinel guards are changed every thirty minutes between 8 AM and 7 PM during the period from early Spring to early Autumn (April 1 through September 30), and every hour between 8 AM to 5 PM the rest of the year. At all other times (i.e., while the cemetery is closed), the guard is changed every two hours.
6. What are the physical traits of the guard limited to?
   ANS: For a person to apply for guard duty at the tomb, he must be between 5′ 10′ and 6′ 2′ tall and his waist size cannot exceed 30.

Other claims in the email:

They must commit 2 years of life to guard the tomb, live in a barracks under the tomb…,
Snopes says: Incorrect. “Sentinels at the Tomb do not have to commit to serving there for any fixed period of time, and the average tour of duty is only about half the two year period claimed here. Like most servicemen, Tomb guards may live either on-base … or off-base in housing of their choosing.

…[they] cannot drink any alcohol on or off duty for the rest of their lives.
Snopes says: Incorrect. There are no restrictions on guards’ off-duty drinking.

After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on their lapel signifying they served as guard of the tomb. There are only 400 presently worn. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their lives or give up the wreath pin.
Snopes says: Incorrect. The badge is worn on the pocket of a uniform jacket, not a pin worn on the lapel.

The shoes are specially made with very thick soles to keep the heat and cold from their feet. There are metal heel plates that extend to the top of the shoe in order to make the loud click as they come to a halt.
Snopes says: Incorrect. The shoes are standard issue military dress shoes.

The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone nor watch TV.
Snopes says: Incorrect. “A Tomb guard’s behavior is not so stringently regulated that he is prohibited from speaking to anyone for a full six months (someone seems to have confused the Old Guard with a monastery!), and guards may do whatever they want (including watching TV) during their off-duty hours.”

Every guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for guard duty.
Snopes says: Correct.

POST SCRIPTUM FROM SNOPES

Although serving as President of the United States qualifies one to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery, only two former Presidents are interred there: William Howard Taft and John F. Kennedy.

POST SCRIPTUM IN THE EMAIL

The email I received went on with a further tribute:

In 2003 as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, our US Senate/House took 2 days off with anticipation of the storm. On the ABC evening news, it was reported that because of the dangers from the hurricane, the military members assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of the Unknowns were given permission to suspend the assignment. They respectfully declined the offer, “No way, Sir!” Soaked to the skin, marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding the Tomb was not just an assignment, it was the highest honor that can be afforded to a service person. The tomb has been patrolled continuously, 24/7, since 1930.

In any event, while there are some inaccuracies in the email, the intention is good. This post is my small little tribute to the men and women who serve and a special salute to the guards.

By the way: The word TOMB appears 21 times in the article above!

This entry was posted in history, war, WWII and tagged 21 gun salute, 21 steps, Arlington Cemetery, Jeopardy, Jeopardy question, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Tomb of the Unknowns by minterdial. Bookmark the permalink.

Downsizing Dad's life to a few boxes

So I'm back to NOT running again.

I've been trying to clean out the house. I didn't realize how much shit I have! And my dad! His den is almost done. Gotta disconnect the cable *sigh* and give the TV to Kelly and take the recliner into the other room. WE ARE keeping it. Not them.  No one bought it for him, so I am keeping it. She's wants the TV, the truck, and his bedroom furniture, I'm keeping the goddamn recliner. He sat in it EVERY DAY. Bugsy would climb on his lap; Maddie would, occasionally Tessie would. Everyone but Tessie would nap with him on that recliner. I'm keeping it. Try to argue with me, I will shut you down.

Yes that's my mood. I've been so freaking moody its not even funny. Oh gosh its horrible! This has been the worst fucking year of my life, besides last year. I swear to God 2016 better be worth it!

Some good things happened this year. I had a life changing surgery, I'm learning to run and bike, and I'm losing weight that will never come back again. I did make a difference in my mother's life, and I'd like to think I made a difference in my father's life too. I have been a devoted daughter, I've sacrificed to make their lives better. For that opportunity, I am grateful. I know that sounds weird, but some people don't realize that to care for someone is a privilege. I'm a nurse, thats how I see it. I kid a lot about hating my profession, and I am really discouraged with it and the place I just finished working at. But if I am able to continue in this profession, I think I'll be able to look at it differently then I used to. I really just want to start over in real estate. I want to prove to myself and the rest of the world I can do something like that. Plus I feel like I will enjoy the process. So why not? Remembering that life is short, this makes sense!

I've met some really nice people this year too. Some of them have made lasting impressions on me that I'll never forget. I look forward to keeping their relationships. They are special to me.

My bike is ready, so we can pick it up tomorrow. Tomorrow we have to make a trip to the Good Will. I have to clean out my dad's closet. His suits are in there :( Some of his old shirts, nothing really special. My sister already stole his Aaron Rodgers jersey the day he died; the other 2 Packer's jerseys are safe with my brothers who deserve to have them. I have some of his things are sentimental to me. And perhaps in the future, they will lose that value and I'll give them up. But for now, there's only so much I can handle with throwing out his stuff.  How do people handle this shit? Its gotta be the worst thing ever---going through a loved one's things and trying to figure out what to do with it all. thankfully my mom didn't have a ton of stuff. I'm keeping some of her clothes and I will wash them and I have a project for them--you can make some of the articles of clothing into pillows. Or a blanket. I'd love that. Lord knows when I'll get to that project though!

I hate to say it but I'm still really sad that my siblings are so disconnected from me. There's not much I can do to fix it this week, and I don't know if it will ever change. I know thats part of the reason why I'm not strong and I'm struggling to get through this house stuff. I don't know what to do to fix it yet. Darcy says pray on it; I do but that's like psych meds: it only works 40% of the time. I don't plan on giving up, but I find it difficult to put much hope into at this moment.

The garage is completely empty, by the way. We joked that it hadn't been like that since they week my parents moved into the freshly built house! Sadly, its the truth. But its so weird to see it empty. You can say not to dwell on things, but we just threw out the man's life. Into the dump. It wasn't savable stuff, but at the same time, it was his STUFF.  I hope if I get older and have kids, own a house, and so on that my STUFF doesn't get thrown in the dump. I hope that I don't have a lot of STUFF to begin with. I need to downsize some of my stuff thats boxed up in the basement. I worked on it for 2 days, I have one more day of a few boxes to go through. The rest of it is my STUFF. I'm 35, I have STUFF. If someone thinks that because I've only rented for 10 years that I wouldn't have accumulated things, they are crazy. My one sister has an entire house full of STUFF. Moving for her someday will be a nightmare. And guess who's NOT helping?? :) I'm not going to extend that offer since it wasn't extended to me. In fact, nobody ask me to help them move....ever. I'm never doing it.

Hopefully when we move out of this house we can afford to hire movers because lugging the boxes from the basement around to the front is torture...its up hill coming out...and its all uneven grass. Ugh. Nightmare. And Its my stuff mostly, so Travis isn't thrilled about schlepping my shit to yet another holding tank. (Re: Apartment.)

I couldn't imagine moving across country! As much as I adore my family out there, I'm not sure I can do it because a) parents are buried here b) I want to sell real estate here and c) I'd have to move all my  STUFF! So maybe lots of visits if I can make some good money someday.

I'm not sure how many more times I can possibly play "Blank Space" by Taylor Swift or "Shut Up And Dance" by Walk the Moon but I've probably got a record going. Where were these songs 10-15 years ago when I was young and in that part of the game?? :) I mean, I'm no Taylor Swift and certainly wasn't back then but that was sort of how I thought of dating. I always felt like it was this game, and I was on top of it. (HAHAHAHA couldn't be further from the truth, but thats a girl's ego for ya!) It brought back memories going through my boxes--finding all of this stuff from my first 2 jobs when I was young and dating and "partying" and playing the game. Young and reckless was a good way to put it. It seemed like I had blank space to write some of those names in. "Boys only want  love if its torture" is kind of true at times. As for "Shut Up And Dance" thats just a catchy tune, reminds me of an 80's hit. And we all know the 80's were a happy time for us 30-somethings. That was before life was complicated. Plus it describes how I wish I could just find that special person and go out with them on and dance the cool summer night away and just laugh and have the best time of our lives. For that one night at least.  Like, shut up, don't talk, just enjoy the moment. Live in the moment, be on the same page! I crave that sooooo much. Thats how I know that there isn't going to be a wedding, there isn't going to be a forever. We just aren't on the same page. Unless that changes, I can't do that. Even though my family loves him and he has been through some serious shit with me and my parents, I just don't think its meant to be forever. I'm just not happy. I feel like right now isn't the time to break up. Too many life changing things this year, you don't add to it purposely. At least I can't. Not only that, we are financially dependent on each other. We also just can't quit yet. It hasn't played its way all the way out yet. So, maybe next year? Who knows.  I don't like changing my routine, but then again, what routine? A shitty one that I live every day hating? Makes me think.

This morning I had this flashback memory of the moment we realized back in January that the Packer's weren't going to the Super Bowl, and I cried. And my sister texted me saying she cried too. I remember my dad watching it saying "I don't believe it!" and then of course his phone call with his brother. *SIGH* (That was a big one.) It dissolves into tears. I hate these flashbacks. They seriously kill me. I've been having them since my mom died; for her and now even more for my dad. WTF? Is it like a way of torture? It's working! I had this vision when I was coming home last night from Whole Foods...I was driving past the pool and about to turn to get to my street...there will be a day when I won't go that way, and it won't be our house anymore. I won't have a reason to even be in that area really, other then to visit my friends on the street. I felt a serious 5 seconds of sheer panic. So when that day comes and we move and sell, there won't be any amount of $ that will take that melt down away. I will seriously melt down. It's going to be meltdown day. I'm going to need a serious batch of meds for that day.  And originally, at the beginning of this whole death thing this year, I figured one way to combat this stress would be to run. It usually makes me feel better. And what am I doing? Sitting on my ass, on my laptop eating garlic bread and NOT running lol. My reason and logic is that it's storming, which it is. Pop up storms the rest of the night. I can't safely go do a run. So fine, no biggie. Maybe I can tomorrow night. Who knows.

Sorry Ruthie, I didn't run again this past week. Sorry Daddy, I had to throw out a lot of your stuff. Please forgive me!!!

Repost of My Recap of August 2014, last days with my mom before she moved.

From Friday, August 29, 2014, reposted here from my old blog. Its been one year or so, give or take a few weeks. I could hardly read this without all of the moments and flooding of tears hitting me all at once. 

The Next Phase.

It has been probably the most difficult and stressful summer, besides the summer of 2008. (we all know what was going on in Sara's world back then.)

After my mom got sick the first week of July, spent a week at HCGH, then about a month at Encore for therapy, she was discharged home to us. Oh.my.God. 

Let me preface this all by saying a few things. I love my mother more then anything on this planet. She is my flesh and blood, she birthed me, raised me, and cared for me like any wonderful mother would. She didn't know she would someday end up with one of the most challenging diseases out there. She lived her life and loved her family. She tried to be a good person, she spoke the truth, and she took care of me as best as she could. And knowing that she needed me more then ever, I was able to get through the most difficult 2 weeks of my life. 

The reason it was so hard is because my poor mother with late stages of Alzheimer's needed 24/7 care. Couldn't leave her alone, had to do everything for her or with her. And being a registered nurse you would think this would be easy for me. WRONG. I knew what to do, I knew mostly how to do it, but finding the strength and the energy and time to do it all with 100% was the challenge. Its even more difficult taking care of your own mother; when it's a stranger and you can leave after 12 hours it's a different ball game.

It started off with just me watching her; then Travis had to help because, I had to sleep...so we took turns staying with her downstairs. My 2 sisters didn't do anything to help in the home--Kelly would come by afterwork for a couple hours if that and just sit with her and basically be annoyed that she had to do it. My other sister didn't even come out to visit until I had to tell her I needed help. After all, I got FMLA granted for me to excuse me from work while I took care of her. I was out of work most of August. Without pay after a certain point. MAJOR sacrifice. We also had to cancel our week long vacation to Williamsburg that we set up back in January; we didn't get any money back from that. Meanwhile both of brothers were able to go on their summer vacations mind you...

 I had a huge fight with my dad about this, because he didn't seem to get it that it was exhausting me mentally and physically after 36 hours of doing it, and we needed help from our friends at Visiting Angels. He took his usual stubborn stance of not wanting to pay money for help; he seemed to have this idea in his head that a caretaker would be $50 an hour. Its obviously not, its $21/hour. And the V.A. pays for 10 hours a week free. He seemed to think I would only need a 10 hour break every week...for however many weeks this would go on. Well thats another ball game right there. Long story short--we were able to convince him it wouldn't kill his bank account to get me some help. We were able to set that up; was it worth the horrible fight in which I let him (verbally) have it? No, not at all. I regret saying some of things I said; he said a lot of hurtful shit too. But we survived, got through it, and it should literally be the last fight we'll ever have. There's no reason to yell at each other like that at his age. My brother Mark was extremely helpful and got me to calm down and see it from his point of view.  Thank God for that. 

So meanwhile, my mom is being herself; lots of repetitive questions--usually the same 10 over and over....
"Where are my shoes?"
"Where is my bed?"
"When are we going home?"
"What do we do now?"
"My legs are cold!"
"What are you going to do?"
"How do I turn the TV off/on?"
"Where is Bob?"
"Where's the dog?"
"Where's my address book?"
"This isn't my home!"
"When are we going to get home?"

This would go on the entire time she was awake. These ideas and topics were very worrisome to her, she just couldn't help it. Although sometimes I know she did it just to have something to talk about and get attention for. She can't help it, I know. But, for the past 3-5 years, these questions were generally asked multiple times during any interaction I had with her. So yes, it gets really fucking old hearing it over and over and over and over again. It tries your patience. You can't get anything done when you leave the room because she will sit in her recliner and scream these questions until you answer. A normal human being wouldn't mind answering these questions a few times, but after awhile, your answers aren't good enough because they aren't being remembered due to the obvious short term memory loss. So as a caretaker, it was the biggest challenge of all.

Due to her fall risk and being on Coumadin, we wouldn't let her ambulate on her own, hence the need to watch her 24/7. Travis invested in a really nice video cam so we could keep an eye on her while we left the room and she was alone. Most of the time she was good; she'd attempt to stand up and successfully did it twice without falling, but we'd usually dash into the room and tell her to stop. Also, while she was sleeping we could watch her, I could go upstairs and shower or rest or do stuff in the kitchen and keep an eye on her---it was viewable on a website, so I watched her on my phone and on our laptops. Brilliant idea. We'll just keep the camera for when we have babies. 

The second challenge was the foley catheter she had in since she was at HCGH. (It was the third or fourth one.) Supposedly the Rehab nurses did "voiding trials" and she wouldn't/couldn't pee. So the cath stayed in. Brought her home with it; no one wanted to empty it but me. My sister acted like it was poison and that irritated me because she knew it pissed me off that she didn't even try to empty it and she didn't really care. So at least the first 10 days or so we didn't have to run to the potty all the time, and I could monitor her output. The Flomax must have helped, she'd been put on that at the hospital.

We had home healthcare from Hopkins following her and my dad, so they came to the house frequently; PT, OT, drew her blood for the lab work, SW, etc. It was helpful. Sophia the RN was excellent and thank God for people like her that do that job.  (During all of this, my dad had her as well because he had a Pleurex Cath installed in his right rib area to drain the fluid build up and help his pleural space close up more. So he got a lot of attention at the same time.)  Within a week of her being home my brother convinced my dad that Assisted Living was the ONLY option for my mom, so my job was to find one. I pulled out the books that a case manager at HCGH gave me and started picking AL places with Alz care out and calling them. Most of the time the residential homes are the best options because they are more intimate, better quality, and cheaper. I lucked out by finding Carolyn Caswell at Country Gardens Assisted Living in Highland, MD. She had 2 or 3 beds open; Travis and I went 2 days later to visit. (We visited another one but it clearly wasn't for us.) So I got the paperwork, had Terri, Mike and Kelly visit it a few days later and my dad agreed and signed the contract. In order to get her in, we had to get some stuff filled out by her PCP; I had to get a MOLST form done. Another seriously painful thing to do, picking what options she would have if she went into cardiac arrest, etc. I got through that meeting with Dr. Gibbons without crying, so I'm proud of myself. I cried and sobbed quite a bit during my baby-sitting time; so many emotions and memories and thoughts.

Before she moved in, she had to see the eye doctor since it had been forever; come to find out she has bilateral cataracts. (OH lovely!) The next day I took her foley out and prayed that she would pee on her own. Sophia ordered straight cath kids just in case; I wasn't thrilled about the possibility of cathing her, I did it once as a practice and its as easy; I of course had made it into a big deal that it really wasn't. After a night of diarrhea, she was able to pee in the potty without issue. Halleluyer.  The bedside commode was the best invention ever too, btw.

Sunday August 25, 2014 we packed my mom up and set out for Highland, which is 15 minutes door to door. The saddest part was when we were getting ready to walk out the door and my mom looks at me and says "Where are we going?" Innocent enough question.
It literally knocked the wind out of me to hear this; she had no idea where we were going and why. Knowing that she is so vulnerable and dependent on me/us is incredibly hard. I had to walk out the door and get in the car and let Terri take it from there. The house she lived in for 43 years would no longer be her only home--now she would go to Ms. Carolyn's house and live there. Its so lonely here without her; when I stop to think about it I usually tear up. 

Another difficult aspect of Alzheimer's is seeing your loved one mentally decline and deteriorate back to almost an infant in some cases. Your mom, the one who was your boss, your rock, your advice-giver, your first love, was now gone, even though her body stood before me.  I still have a really hard time remembering what she was like mentally before she got diagnosed. I was young and naive back on 2004; I didn't realize the severity of her illness and what road we had ahead of us. If there is one thing I could do over again is I would have spent more time with her and really tried to live in the moment with her.  Now that I'm 34, getting married (sometime soon I hope), thinking about babies, wanting to do other thing in life---you know, things you would want to discuss with your mom. Get her advice, her opinions, hear what she went through, share the excitement with her, etc. That is one thing I will never get to experience. I'm sad for this, and mad that this fucking horrid disease has done this to us.  My siblings all got to experience this stuff; the last really great memories I have of her and I being together was when we painted my purple bedroom and decorated it in the summer of 2000. I remember when she would take great pride in ironing my nursing uniforms (those hideous white tops!) and all of the awesome things she took the time to pick out and buy me from QVC. I still have some of them; she was trying to prepare me for the day when I would move out on my own. Thats what mothers do, they help their kids with that...they take pride in guiding their kids through those phases in young adulthood. For that I will be forever grateful I have a few memories, its better then nothing at all. I just wish she was still "here" to help me right now. I know she would really enjoy Travis, and I know she would really enjoy hearing about where I work and what I do. I just wish I could pick up the phone and call her in the evening and say "look at the Cook's Essentials on QVC right now! I'm going to order one of those..." or "look at that pretty Diamonique necklace!"  I would love to cook with her, back with her. Pick out a wedding dress, pick out baby names. Tell her about my patients from work; tell her about the books I read; anything. Anything besides the answers to "Where are my shoes?" So to me the cruelest part of Alz is the tease of having them physically with you, but almost a total shell of the worst possible form of their former self.  Even  from the start of the diagnosis, you have that fear and in the back of your head that something bad is going to happen, you just don't know when and how. And thats sort of how this disease has gone--didn't expect earlier this year that this summer would be so rough for her. I did the whole "I should have done this...should have done that...should have known" game; I have a lot of guilt for not helping her more then I did. I had a lot of anger towards my siblings for not caring or not doing as much of the grunt work as I was doing. Its easy to come up for 2 hours and take her to dinner; try bathing her, putting her to bed, taking her to an appointment, helping her just get on the bus to go to the Senior Center. Giving her medications to her, picking out her food, cutting it up, hoping she will eat it, etc. Those are the things I did a lot of. Cleaning her house, that she once cleaned and took care of. Keeping her safe and out of trouble, keeping her occupied. Helping her stay calm and happy.  The type of stuff that is difficult to do on a daily basis; I just needed some help with that. Support. Moral support, anything. I felt alone a lot of times. Like when my sister would have the task of bathing her on a Sunday because Monday she would go out with her Visiting Angel's companion Louise, and then Winter Growth on Tuesday's, etc. and she would just not do it, not call me, not tell me, and I'd find out at the last minute before I was driving to work that it didn't get done. That was the most frustrating thing ever, and having it repeatedly happen and no one correcting it, and then getting pissed at me...that was the last straw for me. Fortunately this is all in the past. I don't have to do a lot of that stuff with them anymore; working with 2 disorganized and irresponsible people is hard for me. If I know something has to be done and I can't do it, I make a plan b. I don't just let it go and pretend it's not happening. So that being a thing of the past I can at least put that energy into myself once again.

I'm not saying that my sister didn't help and didn't try to do the best she could do; I really don't know if she did the best she could, but at least she was there and could help lighten the load at times. Some people have no one. I think people that have a hard time taking care of themselves that are thrown into something like being a caretaker for a loved one is a lot harder then for someone like me who is a nurse, who is relatively organized, and relatively able to plan a week ahead of time. One thing I would do over again is get Visiting Angels in sooner to help. Regardless of what my dad thought, we needed it a few years ago. Now I know that my brother is the key to getting stuff like that accomplished. But that is also in the past.

So from hear on out, it's the next phase. Is it the last phase? I don't know. Is there more then one phase ahead of us? I don't know. But one thing I can do now is try to reclaim some of my free time to help myself so that I don't end up with early onset dementia/Alz.

That and getting married, buying a house, having babies, changing careers, keeping my dad alive, etc. Those are the things on my plate now that I'm free from caretaker daughter.

Since I am planning to have bariatric surgery again early next year, I have to really focus on that. Which means following the program, exercising, etc etc.  If I can't get my weight down and start becoming a healthier person, I won't be able to get pregnant and have babies and carry on in my life. I am very interested in disease prevention--not curing--all of the horrible stuff that happens to us as we age and if we are overweight. I don't even want to go down the high blood pressure road; the type 2 diabetes world; the arthritis road, and especially the dementia road.

So here's to the Next Phase in life, may it be better than the last and make progress towards my goals.