Embrace The Suck

This is going to be sung on Tuesday at my dad's funeral. It is one of my all time favorite songs. Just found this video. Love it. Enjoy. May your cup runneth over, Merry ME

For Saturday, January 29, 2011 cacoethes \kak-oh-EE-theez\, noun : An irresistible urge; mania. My genetic cacoethes to run far away has kicked in. Lacing up my shoes. Not sure what direction to go. Anywhere but here. not so merry me

When I peek my eyes open in the morning to see if it's a new day, I instantly become aware of no sounds from across the hall for the entire night. Then I remember. It all happens in a second's time but sets the tone of the day. Oh yeh, now I remember. My father is gone. And with him all my excuses for why the things around me are in such a state of disarray. I want to be up and moving, cleaning, organizing, getting things - anything - done. I roll over and go back to sleep. I know. I know. There are no shoulds. Give it time. This is grief. LaLaLaLa What do I do now that the focus of my life is no longer around? Where do I look for me? If I go into his room and tear it all apart, go through drawers and move furniture, give stuff to the Goodwill and load a trash truck with the crap that's left over, will I feel better? Or should I turn the pile of papers on his desk into a shrine? I could spray paint it gold and add some incense. A dove sits on the telephone pole outside my w

And just like that, it's over. It's kind of like waiting for Christmas to come if you're a kid. Once all the presents are opened and colored paper covers the floor and you discover Santa forgot to put batteries in your stocking there is a natural melt down period. Nobody can keep that state of excitement for long. Or if you're the mom, aka one of Santa's elves, after all the shopping, wrapping, and assembling, there is still the colored paper all over the floor to clean up and a festive dinner to prepare. It's not that the waiting was awful (though it can be hard work) or the object of the waiting not what you expected. It's just that when it happens it sort of feels like "okay, that's done, now what's next." Well, for me, the what next is a funeral, the sorting, the cleaning, the packing up, the giving away, the busy-ness of the days to come so I don't have to think about life as I've known it for 15 years. I know there is griev

"To bring the sublime into the mundane is the greatest challenge there is." Pir vilayat Inayat Khan I lie in the cot beside his bed and listening to my dad - grateful for the rhythmic breathing. He was restless this morning with some bouts of apnea. A couple of times I had to sit up to see over the bed rail and check the movement of his chest. I figured out a way I could hold his hand through the bar. I wanted to crawl into bed with him. I wanted to hold his head in my lap and rock him. I decided it was better to let him find whatever comfort he could in the bed by himself as I'm just not sure there is enough room for both of us. Didn't know how I'd explain to the nurse that I dropped my father on the floor. A great doctor came by today. She put dad on a morphine pump so he gets medicated on a more equal basis over the course of 24 hours - no ups and downs as the meds are injected. I think this was a good plan. He's been very comfortable. I've been think

Disclaimer: I haven't had much to say lately that didn't involve my dad's dying somehow. I guess this is as good a place to journal the journey as any. If you think it's too depressing it's okay to move on to another fun blog and maybe come back later. Have you been to 1000 Awesome things ? It's, um ... awesome. My fear of Dad coming down with the pneumonia bug was not unwarranted. As I began to recover his throat started hurting. Followed by a cough, which was followed by a chest wracking, wheezing that was hard to stop. Things began to go downhill from there. Dad hasn't eaten anything of substance since Friday. He takes in very little liquid. He continues to pee with surprising regularity. He's also been quite restless though not in an excessive amount of pain. It all makes for long days and nights for both Dad and I. Since Dad is the one whose body is shutting down I dare not make this about me. But it's really the only point of view I have. As a

"Dying is one thing. Knowing you're dying and having to sit there and wait on it is another. And having to sit there and watch someone who's having to sit there and wait on it is yet another."* Charles Martin I just discovered this local author. He writes a pretty good story. This quote said what I've thought of saying but couldn't find the words. My Boy Cat has been spending a lot of time with me next to Dad's bed. He's no Oscar the Cat of nursing home fame, but this morning he wouldn't let us alone. Do you think he knew Dad and I were having trouble communicating so he just plopped himself down so we could both pet him while he purred the purr of quiet contentment? Whether he knew or not, it worked. May you be calmed by the warmth of a four-footed friend, Merry ME *Where the River Ends, Broadway Books, NY, P. 310

Some boys pointed out the box floating out on the water, then left me to satisfy my curiosity by getting closer. Inside the box was a big feathered something. A bird? A duck? A swan? It was hard to tell because it was kind of in a ball, wrapped around itself in a defensive, protective posture. It appeared to be hurt, but I couldn't tell where or how. It looked up at me, with sad eyes. Eyes that asked for help. I must have left for something, maybe to get help. When I got back there were small white eggs hatching. Little baby puff balls huddled up close to mom. Some lay still, not moving or breathing. I moved in for a closer look, stuck my hand in the box. The mama bird that had looked near death sprang into action with a high pitched cry and a beak that was made for hurting things. I was stunned by the strength she possessed, but knew that's how a parent reacts when its children appear to be in danger. I awoke from the dream, with the weight of worry on my heart. Like the b

At the risk of tooting my own horn AND being redundant, I would like to say I was quite pleasantly surprised to turn on my computer this morning to find that I am this week's winner of a $50.00 prize in the Eldercare Share Your Story contest. I think everyone who has voted probably already knows this - thus the redundancy! It's quite nice to be singled out among some many really touching stories. I am grateful. BUT .... (Sweetie hates it when I say that) I must say a great big thank you to all my voting public. You guys, known and unknown, have done your job repeatedly and well. It makes my heart feel good to have so many people rooting for me! That said, it looks like I'm staying steady in 6th place. If I'm going to catch up with or pass by the leaders, I might have to stand out on the street corner and wave at people as they drive by. On second thought, I'll just ask that you keep on voting for the next week. Please know that I really appreciate it. I didn't e

I love my Sweetie like nothing else. He is my day and night and everything in between. I'd be lost and unhappy without him. That said, I also have an almost uncontrollable crush on Mike Rowe of Dirty Jobs fame. For some reason the dirtier he gets the more I swoon. Sweetie knows that if Mr. Rowe ever drives into my driveway in a Ford pick-up truck, wearing blue jeans and that cutie pie smile of his, I'd be gone in a heartbeat. Oh, for sure I'd come back, but to spend time getting dirty with Mr. Rowe is right up there at the top of my fantasy list. So where, oh where, was the Dirty Jobs man when I needed him? As distasteful as the subject matter might be, when I write my book about the life of a caregiver, it is going to have to have a chapter on "Poop Control ... or lack of." Yesterday was just plain nasty. There's no one to be blame or be angry at, one just has to put on her industrial strength rubber gloves and deal with it. But first, 0f course, I have to

How do you spell when it rains it pours? Walking Pneumonia. The good news: The cough held off until my sister arrived to help with my dad. Since the doctor said I was highly contagious until the antibiotics kicked in, I donned my paper mask, closed my bedroom door and went to sleep. Sleep is a good thing. Sleep is my friend. Just wish I didn't have to be sick to refuel my tank. Thanking God today for my sisters and Sweetie who came to my rescue. Wishing for you good health, Merry ME

I got this email today from Women for Women International. I'm doing what they asked, passing along this information and asking you to pass it on too. This weekend Sudan faces the possibility of a historic transformation, when southern Sudanese will vote in a referendum on whether or not to split their nation into two separate countries. In our latest video our Sudan Country Director Karak Mayik explains what this vote means for the country and the women survivors of war we serve. Our hope is that the vote will be a peaceful process, but sadly Sudan has known little but violence, displacement and loss of lives for the last 40 years. The women of Sudan are strong, but they need our support. We invite you to watch our video (see the web page) and share it with your friends and family. As the vote moves closer visit our webpage dedicated to standing with our Sudanese sisters for ways that you can help and for updates on the situation. This is your chance to use your voice and be a

"Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better." Albert Camus Instead of making resolutions (and not keeping them) some bloggers that I follow have a New Year's tradition of picking a word to guide them into the year ahead. I believe it is a way to set an intention for the kind of year they want to have instead of just letting fate take over. With all the words in the world it must be kind of hard to pick just one. I guess that is where spending some quiet time meditating about the last year, what changes you'd like to see or what joys you'd like to continue. I barely find time to bathe or brush my teeth, so even though meditating is probably the best thing I could do for myself, it is also the last thing I think of. I pour myself into bed, begin a prayer of thanks for another day and fall into a coma-like sleep. Plus I've never been very good at meditating, although I have found peace in guided meditations that take me to a deserted beach on the Hawaiian i

Well, I've done it. I've gone and entered a contest. It's not really a writing contest, though it did make me tweak my writing muscles as it limited my entry to 300 words. I've been known to write sentences with more than 300 words. I stretched myself for the writing experience as well the possibility of winning a day at a spa. I don't think there is a caregiver alive who wouldn't give their right arm for a day away. So here's the deal. In order to win, I have to get the most votes. And in order to get votes I have to ask you, my friends and family, to go to this site and vote for my story. Actually I think you go here, then hit the share why you care header and that brings up a place to vote. You will notice that as of this moment I have one vote. I decided it was okay to vote for myself even though it feels a little cheating. Apparently you can vote once a day. I think the contest is over near the end of the month, so every day when you turn your comput