| This has been a truly tough week or so and I sit here after a crying jag after glancing left to see my Dad's smiling face in the photo by my bed. He hangs onto the ladder in a bright blue pool, and his smile is genuine, and that is rare, to see an uninhibited grin. Dad loved everything that water touched; sports, boating, swimming, fishing off the beach, sailing a catamaran in the ocean or lake, diving, the "rocks" in his drink, teaching Jim and I to swim, and then teaching the grandkids, Gregg and Andrew. One of his water teases, was catching us unawares, by cupping something in his hand, and having us come look into the opening... ooops! he'd spray water from his shell-shaped hands, and somehow, we fell for it over and over, no wonder it tickled him. On his day off, simply driving along the shoreline, typically with the top down, was his joy, as was mine, was the smell of the ocean air, and the fog horn lowing in fog or storm ensuring boats making it to port safely, and the sound making me feel safe as well; I miss him so acutely and so deeply. I wonder if there is some freudian slippage that I am now living on an island, surrounded by water? In water, ocean or lake or swimming pool, if only you could've see him do the "crawl", he was brilliant and beautiful to behold, a water dance, his strokes so strong, while sneaking a breath under his arm using a minimum of movement and each muscle moving deliberately. And that is how he was to his family, always strong and brilliant to behold. Looking through the murky or chlorine stinging waters to keep us safe, he loved us all so much, and I miss that kind of energy pervading my life. And I am afraid that I'm letting him down with my Mom's choices and care. Crying into his photo, I begged him to help Mom not be alone or afraid, and to please guide me and make sure that what happens, or what I choose is what is best for Mom's well being. I know to most folk it is a ridiculous thing to do, not even a "prayer" to a "god /dess", but asking my Dad to be powerful, still; it's a request borne of my desperation, fearing my decisions are not good and I'm hurting my Mom. My Mother truly knew only one great love, and that is my Dad. He was the man who could make her feel safe, seemingly put order in her universe. I am so far from that now despite the efforts, and the intent. I wish I could do more for my Mom. I am chasing my tail and I've not caught up with it, or barely caught sight of it.... So, maybe Dad will get a message to Mom in her dreams and give her comfort, so that next sleep, she won't be talking and arguing and working so hard, like what we witnessed the last visit, as we awaited Kim and Doug's incredible journey to rescue us from WSH. [the Jeep gave up and overheated driving down to visit with Mom, front brakes and calipers DOA, about 1 exit north of 129, our exit to WSH. There was a gent there, Tom, who had us follow him to Les Shwaub, and since I wasn't prepared with any meds etc., we had to get home v. "enjoy" the potential adventure. So, Tom dropped us off at WSH, so we could still have a visit with Mom, and we phoned Kim and Doug so late at night, yet they came down with bells on -- what friends I have, yes? Color me blessed....] But we got to stay past the 8:00PM end of visiting hours, and poor Mom was not resting when she napped /slept? She spoke and argued and shook her head, and fingers twitched, and she had Restless Leg Syndrome, and she spoke, as she does when awake, in her very own language that is not understandable, unless if someone concentrated and spent lots and lots of time with her to decipher it. But she's currently fighting a lung infection with the rest of the floor, and she had a lot of pain, so much so that I reminded her to take the drink they made up because her pain medicine was in it. Her hands were palsied, her walking very stopped over, her depth of field sort of ebbs and flowed, but she was shaking and crying and hurting and couldn't even hold her utensils. Poor Mom, she still has enough sense of self to be feeling awkward about how she looks, i.e. her actions, spillings, even stains on her clothes. Once she misses going to the bathroom in time, she sort of loses her spirit somewhat, no matter how I try to encourage her to go with the flow, that the clothing is made for it, etc etc, but I don't have the "tools" or sensitivity to make here feel better. Driving home from Dr Waite's, there was a noisy bird overhead, and I look through the sunroof, and voila, a very excitable eagle flying with, talking to us, and my heart soard for a moment, my belief, or superstition, about Dad's messengers being Bald Eagles, So it was a delight to be escorted partially home and seeing the vigilant eagle gave me a soupcon of hope. I had a very tough appointment with Marilyn on Monday, and physical pain is taking my life over yet again. There also is the emotional me that just can't get the handle on how to make life easier for Mom, easy for her to progress. While talking to Dr Waite, he indicated that our visits are probably as effective as any and everything else she gets from the MDs, RNs, care-givers and specialists. I just needed a bit of love, our family's love, the way we do it...our quirky, creative, dysfunctionally way. That is missing in my life, and will always be gone. And crying "uncle" doesn't work - my life is what it is now, not the prettiest one, but Im so far from any ability to figure things out. And, I recently "gestalted" realized that I am so wound up tight, that I need a lot and lot and LOT of work to unwind me so I can give the upcoming work on my body a chance, to stop the muscles from cramping everywhere...and the shot from Dr Fuhs, my hand surgeon, still isn't taking...dammit. I know that if I can't get it resolved quickly through the acupuncture, nor massage therapy, nor CPT, I have to allow the surgeon to perform surgery PDQ. It'd in-patient surgery in his office, 22 minutes, but the time to heal, not so quick. Speaking of pain, Candi, the kids' Mom, is doing well after her back surgery in Swedish. She's even home already, and is getting "less pain every day" [knock wood] which is so exciting -- to be without pain in her (near) future. Yes, there's hard work ahead of her, but oh, the rewards she'll be blessed with. I hope our fleurs helped brighten up her surroundings and let her know our hearts and thoughts were with her, are with her still. OTOH, I had a brush with greatness on Saturday past...I met some Desert Lynx at Beverly and Ken's. They are good little kitties, good warm smart beautiful -- the breed, Desert Lynx, is considered an exotic in the feline world. Bev literally was midwife for these 2 bundle of joy. Momcat was way too small, so Bev worked hard to help Momcat by actually placing her healing hands in, and helping Bartholomew first, and Bubba II needed help with the afterbirth. Bev is truly part cat one life. The offer to let me have one of the two is so special and amazing beyond words, ever. She loves her cats, and to actually offer one of the two that she literally brought into this world, the idea of her offering me one of the cutie-pies, well it honors me so. Her love is one that is not "in your face" so our styles do mesh in that regard, but dang, she offered me one of the 2 cutest boy kitties, and I'm so excited, these guys are truly special. My vet's office said that the kitty would need certain injections to ensure my 2 kitties will still stay healthy and strong. I had my suspicions, so I phoned them on Monday, but until tonite, I didn't have the guts to pop the kitten bubble until now, a little bit o' fantasy can help, yes? But, tonight, I took the plunge and phoned Bev about the Vet office suggesting the beasties get inoculated before moving in. I phoned Bev and said that I had been dragging my heels about calling, because of the strong suggestion from Was because she's truly into a holistic care of all living things, minimizing "western medicine such as pills, etc] so I had to make sure that she is ok with this option. Gordy seemed pretty confident that she'd say, Kewl. Bev, the good and bad news, said she'd let me know, and I don't blame her. I look forward to her reply. I need someone to love me so completely, and with surprise and joy, and the closest to that treasure, is my furry feline friends. They always "get it" and are known to be pretty consistent to comfort me when I'm unwell, or unwell emotionally. I crave the feeling of being important and special to someone, and that my being with them is considered fun. I love my kitties. "Please sir, could I have some more"? BTW, Candi phoned Gordy, and she has moments of less pain!!! The surgery went very well, they didn't have to take it as far as the thought, and she was let home on Monday!!! Congrats Candi -- ah, a future without pain awaits her. Wow. Well, I'm beat and my body is tensing so hard, it feels like it just may snap, and I end up doing a rumpled piece of paper impression. I will know when Bev feels strongly about this east meets west medicine complication - a microcosm of the world medicine, eh? Pshaw! Still more stuff to catch y'all up on, but this is it for now. I'm hurty and tired and fuzzy-brained and, well, hey, SNAFU, right? Happy 4th of July - sign the petition if you feel ok with it, pax!
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