Stomach pains and bravery

Since my mother got sick, I have not slept well and my stomach has been hurting, so I really can't eat well either. The stomach issue has been a problem because, no matter how inocuous the food I eat, however bland it is, at the first bite, I have terrible stomach cramps. I'm sure it is because of the stress of the last couple weeks. I have been dealing with the pain. I now know for certain that my mentally ill friend is manipulative. For the last few days, when she called, she has been sounding depressed. We set up a luncheon date where I take her to lunch and then to the grocery store. Last night she called and guess what? She doesn't sound depressed any more! She suggested that we add trips to the library and fabric store for canvas and needles. I told her that lunch and grocery store are enough, that the head of the group home could take her to the library and fabric store. I am annoyed with myself for giving in to her manipulations and I don't want to spend money at the fabric store. I am already paying for lunch and snacks and it is expensive. I could kick myself for giving in to her manipulations. My mother was very brave. She was a big woman and she had mobility issues. Every morning she would say, "I guess it's time for me to get up now." She would wait a few more minutes and then repeat herself. She would sit up on the bed and someone would help her stand. She walked with her walker into the bathroom and then into the living room to her lift chair. We would turn on the lamp by her chair. I would see light in the shade as I drove by and know that it was on for my mother. It took so much courage to walk because she was afraid that she would fall. And she did fall a few times and dad would use the hoyer lift to help her to into her wheelchair and then into her lift chair. She had to take several medications. A lot of big capsules. She would try several times to swallow these pills and I could see that it was difficult. But she kept on trying. Many of my mother's brothers and sisters wrote notes about the compassionate care that my dad provided for my mother so that she could stay at home. I feel the weight of trying to write thank you notes to all the people who shared this sad time with us. It's difficult because I have words in my head but I can't transfer the words to paper. I re-read what I've written and the words don't make sense.

Headstone designed with love and thought

Today my dad and I drove to the monument company. He had drawn a picture of his idea for the monument and tucked it away in his wallet. The monument will be light gray granite on the same color base. It will slope. The surname will be on the top in 3" letters. My mother's and dad's first and middle names will be in smaller letters with the years of their births and deaths. My dad noted that both his and her names have the same amount of letters. In between is a heart with the date they were married. In the left corner is a cross with a single flower and leaf and on the right side is a rose. It is beautiful and a wonderful tribute to this couple who loved each other so much. And instead of making me sad when I see the picture, I feel comforted, because my dad made it with such love and thought. The foundation will be laid soon. It takes the monument company 10 weeks to make the headstone. Should be in place by Jan 1. My dad and I spoke to the sales associate at the monument company about my mother and showed her a picture. I will blather about my mom to anyone who will listen. My husband and I went to his hearing test today and to try some hearing aids. He is trying behind the ear, but when he returns in a couple weeks will try some in the ear. I didn't ride today because my teacher was ill.

Days are getting shorter

I was taking an order today for flower delivery and the customer said that I was cutting him off. Not on purpose. His conversations were delayed and I didn't know when he was finished talking. First time in the 12 years I've worked at the flower shop that someone said that. And then when I answered the phone later, a woman said that I sounded like a robot. To avoid cutting anyone off, I will hesitate before speaking to make sure the customer is finished. I don't know about sounding like a robot. Glad that I have two days off. After work, my dad and I did errands for most of the afternoon. Tomorrow he is coming to the farm to see me ride and on the way home, we are stopping at the monument company. I like when my dad and I converse about my mother. It is good to remember. My mother's aide is coming to visit my dad. She has worked for my dad and mom for five years. My mother's death was such a life changing event for her. Sunshiny day here with warm temperatures. However, dark falls early and my dad and I both dislike it.

Balm for my soul

I've come to realize that the woman who lost her baby is not going to acknowledge my mother's death or the flowers I've sent, in any way. Even though we are both traveling down the grief journey road, she is not going to write me. As long as I've given up my expectation for any kind of sympathetic comment, I can move on. And I don't plan to write any more about my mother on her site, because it is about her and her baby. I also realize that it is the support of family and friends that is helping me through this sorrowful time. I need wisdom from the Holy Spirit so that the acknowledgment notes that I write are honest and true. My friend said when she writes she prays, "Lord, I will take care of the quantity. You take care of the quality." It is so hard for me to thank people when my heart is bruised, my mind isn't working, my balance is off, and stress is making my body act strangely. I haven't seen my dad and his dog in over a week, so plan to stop and visit with him after work. I called him to make sure that he didn't plan to rest at that time. I walk my dogs every day around the field because the beautiful green trees, sun, peaceful setting soothe my soul. Had to wash Maui's vest last night because she rolled in something awful before I could stop her.

Fiasco up north

There was some kind of fiasco with my aunt and uncle and their daughter the day before my mother's funeral. She drove 250 miles to bring them to the funeral. My aunt has dementia and she began screaming, "You don't tell me anything!" I am not sure what happened then, but my cousin refused to drive them to the funeral and left. So, the day of the funeral, my 90 year old uncle drove 250 miles to the church. Thank you, big, big safety angels for keeping them safe! Not safe for my uncle to drive back home, so my mother's brother stepped in. On Saturday, the younger brother would drive his sister and her husband back up north. His wife would follow in their car. I feel that my cousin is wrong in arguing with her mother. Though very difficult, one has to remove oneself from the sarcasm, mean remarks, misunderstandings and step back. I know the heart hurts but the head knows this is the disease talking. Two of my cousins are not treating my aunt with respect, honor, compassion or understanding. And because they are not honoring their parents, I have lost respect for these two cousins. When my aunt kissed my mother at the church, she said, "I will be next." My mother's brother and his family had orderered a gorgeous pink rose arrangement for my mother. He asked that I give it to his sister. She smiled and was so grateful when I brought it over to their table. I was thinking that next week, I will order some roses for my aunt and have them delivered to the assisted living home. My emotionally ill friend is trying to manipulate me to take her to lunch. She says that she is depressed and wants to see me. She is depressed, but I don't want to be the person she steamrolls over to get what she wants. Am going to stand firm and put off until later.

I get upset when my sister calls

My husband had an eye appointment yesterday and the doctor suggested cataract surgery. My friend had eye surgery earlier this year. And he has an appointment for his ears next Tuesday. Imagine how good life would be if he could see and hear! Haven't read a new post from the mom whose baby died from the chromosomal disorder. Nothing yesterday or today which is odd. Normally she posts every day. My friend suggested that I see a psychiatrist or attend grief counseling. My mother's funeral was a week ago. I got so upset when my sister called me at work today. Always at work, never at home. She said that my dad breaks down in tears. Well, yes, he has known my mother since she was 16 years old. He is camping at a nearby state park with my brother. She also told me that she and my brother want to write thank yous to their friends. Great idea. My dad wants to take down the ramp in the front of the house. She said that my dad feels conflicted because of my mother's quality of life the last 5 years and that he couldn't do anything because he had to care for her. I took my mother to the nail salon, the grocery store, to a concert. She read and did exercises with her home aide. We played word games, read the paper and watched TV. We laughed and joked together. We went camping at a state park over Labor Day. Is everyone forgetting what she could do? I feel sad that few remember what she could do. It is true that my dad's free time was limited to the time her aides were at the house. My sister said that dad should have gotten mother in hospice earlier, so that her last days would have been more comfortable. Dad was processing, hard to make decisions when you're dying inside. I knew he was working it out, when we told Dad to keep mother in bed and he said, "She can't eat or drink or take her pills in bed." No, she was transitioning to heaven. My sister wants to keep the wheelchairs in case my dad needs them. I told her, "Keep them. I don't care."

A Bad Night

I cried a lot last night. I miss my mother. I miss making her dinner on Tuesday afternoons. She enjoyed hamburger with onions, mashed potatoes and green beans. I liked playing scrabble with her and watching 'Wheel of Fortune' and 'Jeopardy' or the news. We would read the sales flyers together and find good deals. We would laugh together and I would kiss her and tell her that I love her. I am still reeling from her illness and death. How quickly she left us. She stopped walking about 2 weeks before her death, but she could still stand probably until a week before her death. And she was semi awake the entire time. On September 2, dad told her he was leaving the hospice center and that he loved her, and she passed away the next morning. A week ago today, we visited with friends and family at the funeral home. Out of the blue, a former friend that I knew 25 years ago left a message on my answering machine. I don't think I have the strength to call her back even though I am curious as to why she is in the area. I have been working through my mother's passing in this online journal and with certain friends. I write and talk to try to make sense of this new normal, a life without my mother, a big hole in my heart.