Sorry about that. 2015 was jammed packed with changes and some I rolled with and others, well grief is never over.
I honestly don't remember where I left off so I'm going to do a quick 2015 recap....
Jan 15- My mom entered end of life hospice in our home. She lost 25 pounds in two months and was not "with" us more and more. She had me as a friend, but her daughter was a spoiled self-absorbed twit. Her husband was her constant and she missed him deeply when he was at work- to the point of tears at least twice a day.
Jan 29- Mom turned 71, we didn't make it a big thing as she was slipping away already.
Jan 31- Mom was taken to a hospice care center so I could get some respite time. It was a very nice care center and the staff were amazing. Dad and I visited when we could.
Feb 6 at 8:30 am- Mom went home to Heaven with Tony as her guide. Dad and I were with her and held her hand as we cried and wished her well on the next journey. Prior to her death by a month or so, she told me that she "wasn't going to live much past 71". She told me this on numerous occasions before she started slipping away and talking much less. I guess she just knew when she'd be headed home.
March- A visit from my daughter from another mother was a much needed distraction after mom's passing. Hugging her and simply being with her was splendid. I often wish she was mine all the time as she is a true delight to have around. She's the daughter I have always longed for.
April- The school system we had our son in continued to drag their feet to get him the help he needed and deserved. After months of not them doing anything about him failing all his classes, we made the difficult decision to move him back to Texas with his mom and step-dad. I miss him every day. He is a life force that can not be denied. His comedic timing is just about perfect and his hugs, though few and far between, gave my soul the boost it needed.
Also, we (dad, W and I) went home to WI for a visit. W fell in love with my home state quickly and we decided with mom no longer needing me, it was time to come home permanently . We tried to talk Dad in to coming with us, but he refused and kept working.
May- Purging all of the things... and I mean ALL. I never knew how much junk we had until I started going through all the boxes and totes. I found old coupons from 1992, new towels that had tags still, music boxes and trinkets that mom had packed up in 2006 and never unpacked, at least three complete sets of cutlery that didn't include the two we were using, random notes mom made over the years, pictures- totes full, clothes that went out of style in the late 90's, stuff that I had packed up after Tony died and I couldn't bare to give away at the time and copious amounts of paperwork from mom's days of being a paraprofessional at the middle school in the early 90's (seriously I found detention slips for most all of my friends in the mix). Weekly van loads of donations were made to the local charity run thrift store, a few sales happened, a boatload of items were put on the curb for free and yet somehow we still ended up moving a shit ton (also known as a metric ass load) of totes and boxes to dad's new place as well as with us to WI.
June- Moved Dad in to his apartment. Packing sucks and I am rarely done with it when it comes time to actually move. Thankfully dad's apartment was only a few minutes drive from the house we were renting. W and I got him 90% unpacked and set up before we left town on the 30th. It was a heart breaking goodbye to have to say. I am and always will be Daddy's girl. I cried for the first 30 minutes of our drive. Yep we drove the moving truck to WI- well W did and I followed in my minivan which was loaded with TV's, guitars and essentials (toilet paper, paper towels, paper plates and plastic silverware) for starting out at the apartment.
July 1- W and I moved into our apartment in my home town. We have my family here, but I miss dad. Thankfully we hired two guys to unpack the 24' truck as our apartment is on the 2nd floor and there was no way I was helping W carry up all that stuff. I would've become a unicorn faster than I was willing to even entertain the idea of unpacking the truck by ourselves.
August 15- Dad came home to lay Mom and Tony (finally) to rest at the cemetery. The grave plot is next to mom's beloved Aunt Mamie and I was able to choose a beautiful bench as the marker- I can go out and visit them anytime and have a place to sit. I thought I'd cry hardest over putting Tony in the grave, but it was Mom that had me breaking down as if she'd just passed a few days prior. I wrote both of them a letter and put it in the grave with their urns. In the letter to mom, I not only forgave her but filled her in on a few things I'd kept from her. By forgiving her I let go of resentment, guilt and hatred that was no longer needed in my life.
September- W started attending one of the UW branches to get his art degree. He's an amazing artist, his brain processes items and ideas so beautifully that he can bring them to life on paper. His final piece of artwork in his 2D drawing course was to paint a self-portrait. I may be biased, but it's the fascinating painting. I have to say, it's quite magnificent to know him. While W is at school, I got time to myself. I finally realized how bad my anxiety was becoming and how it was changing the way I live. I couldn't even drive myself anywhere without having a complete meltdown, it wasn't pretty y'all!
Oh I turned 39 on the 16th- which I think I may just stay at from now on.
October- W worked for a local haunted house. He loved it. He will be out there every fall from now on. He has a flare for the scare.
This month brought the start of changing meds... up the dosage, down this dosage, change this pill, try this one. The nightmare continues today.
I went to CO to visit Dad over Halloween. I enjoyed being out by him and sucking up some serious sun while he was at work. It was horrible to leave him after my week was up.
November- Thanksgiving and the beginning of the Christmas season for me. W and I had Chinese food delivered and had a lazy day. I was struggling to get in the holiday mood.
December- I didn't decorate one iota. That was a HUGE mistake. I couldn't fake the holiday joy. Those close to me saw it and tried to rescue me. I couldn't bring myself to send out a single card or package- which was highly unusual for me! I got distressed over simply thinking about going through all of mom's Christmas decorations. Our annual family party was nice, I got to spend time with those I love and to see a niece I haven't seen or spoken with since I moved to CO. I faked it to make it. Christmas day we got together with Scar and her family for a few hours. I was in pain- physically but mostly emotionally. I wasn't dealing well with not having Dad home for Christmas. In my 39 years this was the first one we weren't together. It broke my heart.
New Years Eve- we hung with Scar and family for an overnight gaming party. Scar and I made it till about 12:30. Scar's hubs and W made it until about 8 am. We played Apples to Apples, ate, played video games, ate, colored, ate, giggled and talked. I did mention we ate, right? Scar is a phenom in the kitchen so there was no end to the delicious treats. It was a great way to bring in the New Year.
Jan 1, 2016- Tony's 43rd Birthday. I cried a bit, but mostly just missed him. I was tired from the festivities the night before which probably helped me not get lost in the grief again.
Jan 7- Belle my 10-11 year old pug mix went to play with mom and Tony. Her age caught up to her and I had to do what was best for her. It was devastating to face, but I held her the entire time and felt mom come take her. That feeling is what kept me from being overwhelmed with grief for her loss; knowing she's with grandma who loved her as much, if not more, gives me a peace I need.
Jan 11- Our furnace broke over night and the apt staff had it fixed by 11 am. Other than being a little chilly (55 degrees inside) it wasn't as awful as it could have been. W and I built a fort. It's MY fort. I have books, a chair, the cat's chair, my woobie (afghan my mom made for me in 1995 for my freshman year in college), my topiary which I display ornaments that friends have sent me on, pictures of my pups through the years, drawings from my favorite artist J (he's 5 and too cool) and other mementos of this life I live. My fort is where I can go to read, chill and just be when I need to. Yep I'm 39 and have an awesome blanket fort, don't hate me, too much.
Jan 18- Roxie became ours. Thanks to perfect timing, we were able to adopt her from a family that no longer could keep her due to allergies. Roxie is 4 year old Pembroke corgi. She is adorable, stubborn, laid back, silly and makes me get outside for a 3/4 mile walk twice a day. I had just gotten in to the routine with Belle when she passed. I felt myself slipping back into the couch potato I didn't want to be. Rox has attributes from all of my past pups so I know that Belle sent her to me. And who doesn't smile watching a corgi walk in front of them? For me it's the adorable way her butt tries to catch up to her head that has me giggling.
Today, Jan 24- W is sleeping (well not any longer as I'm on my third edit) and I'm trying to get out all the words running laps in my head. I am nauseous and in pain, higher than my preferred 4 on the scale. The nausea is a new side effect that I'm trying to determine if it's caused by the new meds or the lack of a dose of an old med or simply the cheese curds I ate on Friday. It all started Friday evening and I've been trying my best to fight back and not let it sideline me. Last night was the worst and I ended up missing a ladies game night at my aunt's house. I had been looking forward to it for weeks. I wanted to be there to see my aunts, cousins and friends of the family. We hadn't had a game night in months and I missed it. There will be others, but missing last night sucks. Once again my brain and body aren't on the same page and it royally pisses me off. Scar understands because she knows how it goes and doesn't make me feel guilty for not being up to activities. However, I look at how hard she works to fight through her pain and discomfort to make sure she is at planned events, and I feel like a slug. She has three kids, a husband with a chronic illness and goes to college full time- she doesn't cancel if she can help it. She inspires me on one hand and on the other has me feeling like a slug. All because I do end up cancelling more often since it takes too much out of me to fight my body. I don't have a child living with us that demands me to fight through for his sake. I don't have classes to attend to make me push when I shouldn't. I can't work per dr's orders, so pushing through when I shouldn't isn't required of me on a daily basis. If any of those things were different, I'd be pushing myself so hard that I'd end up worse off. I cope with my pain in one of three ways- I read, I play Candy Crush and those type of games to give me something else to focus on or I sleep. With all the damn med changes I'm being tortured with, sleep is my best ally. I get up at 5-ish every morning, nap at 1-ish for 2-3 hours and am in bed and out like a light by 9:30-10 pm. Some days it's later on the get up, longer on the nap. Did you add that up? I sleep, on average, a minimum of 10 hours a day. If I don't, my pain goes higher, which makes sleep harder, which makes the pain stronger, which makes sleep damn near impossible. It is a unending cycle that I'm trying not to keep falling into. It's frustrating and depressing and it's the hardest to fight through. I'm making changes to my daily routine, small steps to enable the best of me to be available at the right times. Night activities are almost impossible for me to handle as I've used up all my energy and drive by 6 pm. I'm a morning person, always have been. If we could do game night at 10 am I'd be there. To demand that everyone change their schedule to accommodate me is not only presumptuous and conceited, it's plain unreasonable. Instead, I will miss game nights and school performances that I desperately want to attend because my body can't manage it. Those nights that I am up to the fight, I'll be there. I pray my friends and family will remain understanding and be just as ecstatic to see me as I am to see them those nights.
My journey continues on....
