If It Feels Good, Just Do It
You probably don’t realize because all you read from me anymore is sadness, but I hate it. I hate…
You probably don’t realize because all you read from me anymore is sadness, but I hate it. I hate giving you my grief and my sadness.
Shouldn’t a writer be able to transfer himself into another pair of shoes and write from their angle? Shouldn’t I pick-up on the wonderful posts that are heavily perfumed with happy signs?
I laugh when I read Maxine. She is hysterical. For a few moments I forget where I am and get in her mind of laughter.
Or I would like to post about the wonderful day I had today. A day at the park. Watching kids swimming and running. Playing in the sand.
I want to, I really do. But my mind and body are tired when I think of getting in my car. Heading out to where people are. I see them chatting, lovers holding hands, eating together at restaurants. And the crowds of people mulling around the clothes racks and I just can’t deal with it.
I love God. I believe in him, but I am lacking. I still think of my own feelings. Maybe I don’t weigh heavily like I should on his word. Maybe I am too selfish or too human. Maybe I can’t move forward or behind.
It feels like I am stuck right in the middle. My life is moving around me. I am the one in the middle watching it go without me and yet my feet are frozen to the ground. I am too full of what is happening in my own walls.
I try to move out, I try to move ahead, but it is difficult. Without your prayers Lord only knows where I would be. There are parts of me that just want this over. Slam the door shut. Write the chapter out, close the book, but I can’t, or don’t know how.
I know that yesterday when I took my memory trip I realized that this town I live in has nothing but sadness written all over it. My parents are from here and they are gone to heaven now.
Family that I loved and trusted are no longer in my life and they are too close in distance, and my heart is too delicate.
I am not into sports so there are no ballgames for me to attend, my choice, of course. I don’t swim because the lakes are too unsafe anymore. My best g/f lives out-of-town, and my daughter is out-of-state.
Now don’t for one second think I am on my own pity trip here, because I am not. I am sorting things in my mind. Finding priorities that make me smile. Doom and gloom have filled my heart and soul for so long.
I need to break a way. My life will change when Al is no longer here. And I say that lightly because if God wants me this moment, I will be gone before him. I can’t live like this if he goes before me.
I can’t keep digging the hole of sorrow deeper, I will drown. I knew yesterday that some parts of my sadness are brought on by myself. I make my life what it is. So I have made a decision. I don’t care how much money I have or don’t have. I am not staying here.
It was great when family was here. It was wonderful when family spoke. But now, it is a terrible place for me to live. I want to move a way. Move to where the sun shines more and snow is less. I want to be where I am wanted. I want to see tons of trees and hilly land. I want to be where people talk whether I am a stranger or friend. I will move. This is my goal, my yearning. I need to live, breathe, laugh and love again, and in this city there are too many memories to do this. I want to start writing a new chapter in my book of life.
What Would You Do?
What would you do? I have had plenty of sleep and therefore I have plenty of open space to think.…
What would you do? I have had plenty of sleep and therefore I have plenty of open space to think. If you knew that you were going to cause physical pain by allowing Al to continue to go to Day Program would you let him go? Would you take him out to eat on his good days?
Would you keep him home and bed bound pretty much? Would you consider as I have what that will do to his emotional state of mind?
While he has been at the Hospice House he had been bedridden. His tremors have slowed down with a new medication. He continues to sweat but not as bad. The doctor says he can’t get the sweating or tremors to stop permanently.
He is considering when sending Al home with some sort of pump for medication. He states that when Al is active he is going to go back to the way he was this past weekend.
I am not able to make a decision because I can see how I would be if I was pretty much stuck to a bed.
To me there is more involved here than his physical state. I can not ignore the fact that he is slipping a way. So what do I do with the time he has remaining. Let him live? Consider his mental capacity that he may not quite understand that he will suffer?
After my blow out of emotions earlier today, and writing my new stories, I did something I never do, I turned the computer off. I wanted to shut the whole world out and just try to sort out my feelings. Al had finally fallen asleep on the couch, and so I took the other couch to lie down on and think of what I can do next to help this situation. Before, I knew it, my spent tears landed me in sleep land. When I awoke, Al was up. There was no emotion coming from him. I believe it was the last of the sedative wearing off. He did say he was hungry though, and I always look at this as a plus sign. If you are feeling hungry, you are feeling better. I got up and got him a bowl of ice-cream. He ate it very slowly, but finished every drop. I sat back down and tried to go back to what I was trying to do earlier, before falling asleep, which was think of what I needed to do next, but my mind was still dazed. I thought about Al’s foot and what the dentist had said. The spot on Al’s foot is not a good sign. He needs to be checked. I know a dentist is a doctor, but they know teeth, not circulation as well as other doctors. I called the primary care doctor and explained the cold foot, the dark gray toenail, and the soft pulse. They want to see him tomorrow afternoon, so I am going with my gut instinct, and taking him in, and not waiting until next week like the dentist suggested. If it is what I suspect, there is nothing I can do, but work harder at memorizing every facial feature, every word out of his mouth, hanging on to these memories as tight as I can. If it is not that, and something else, than that is less worry for me by a whole week. Al and I watched some stupid television programs, based on entertaining you if you have no brain and time went on by. There was no organized supper tonight, as I wasn’t going to sit and eat supper in front of him, and have to explain to him why he didn’t get any, so he ate more ice-cream, and then later on I fixed him his first soft meal, scrambled eggs with cherry jello. I could tell by the way he ate, that he was very hungry. I don’t want him to lose anymore weight. Finding out this morning that he has lost another 11 pounds is something I don’t want to continue, so eat Al, eat! I fixed myself the same meal so he didn’t feel left out. I finally turned the computer back on, wondering if I was going to see any more cut remarks. I know that I am emotional, and maybe too emotional. When I love, I love, giving all of me, and when I am hurt, all of me hurts. I was blown away at all the comments I had waiting for me. I have so many wonderful friends on here. I have always thought if we all only knew each other in person, but that is a dream, but after reading everyone’s comments, I have learned that you all are truly friends to me. You don’t have to live in my back yard to have a connection. I want to thank BIRD for scolding me. She may not have thought of it as this, but I did. It was a wake-up kind of scolding. She was telling me it is alright to be myself, that I don’t need to pretend to be any other than who I am. As I went down through the list of comments, the tears did fall, but not from pain, but from joy, knowing God has answered yet another prayer. I am not alone. It is alright that mom and dad are not here, you are. I needed to be talked to like this in order to understand that what I was thinking was wrong. I can say this and not even feel ashamed that you will take it in any other way, that I love you all. I love you for accepting me for who I am, for the type of writing that I write, for sometimes repeating myself, as my days seem to go the same each day for a while. I will be weak at times, tired at others, but it is alright. Thank you, everyone. You are truly a blessing and part of an answered prayer.