learning how to grieve

I've been a very bad blogger since my mother died, and I guess its because Im overwhelmed with things I need to express. I'm unable to cry, though i frequently feel the need to. Rarely do I sleep more than 2 hours at a time. My body is breaking down in the process, and the house isnt as well cared for as it was a month ago.

I'll try to hit some of the "high points" before my brain simply shuts down and refuses to let me think about it. The whole thing is a mess - both the facts of what actually happened, and what I'm feeling. None of it makes a damn bit of sense and really sounds more like a Lifetime movie.

My mother's sister died on the 12th of a heart attack. She'd been on methadone for pain and other painkillers, and cared for by her father and stepmother. On the 15th or 16th, the stepmother offered the remainder of the methadone and pills to my mother. Yes, offered methadone toa a drug addict. My mother was high as a kite on the evening of the 16th, and her husband didnt know why (didnt know she'd been given such dangerous medication). She was found dead on the 17th. That methadone, in combination with other sedatives, has been determined to be the cause of death. I'm livid, and following up with the police. My mother was using again, but if she hadn't had methadone in the house, she would have at least seen the next morning.

It's strange how life goes on afterwards. The facbeook comments stop, people who know stop asking how you are when you talk to them, and everyone forgets. Except me, her husband, and maybe my sister. I feel guilt for my role in limiting our relationship, especially when I pushed her away recently because I was dealing with other things. I'm angry at her for the way she lived her life, and the decision to take the methadone and ultiamtely use it - and then Im guilty for that. Im full of regret for the relationship we can never have, the answers I can never get. The wondering why, what made her start using again, did it have to do with me? Confused by the woman with  angelic singing voice, who could be so caring and kind and good with kids, but could also abandon her own children repeatedly and tell cruel lies to them. I'm sad that she made it this far, was off the drugs for awhile, went to rehab 3 times (but never stayed) and noooow finally succumbs...and because a family member provided her with the means.

we had a memorial, informally...it was a mess. some relatives on that side are not good people. there was no real funeral, no grave...and for me, i think that makes things feel even more left undone.

i never had real experiencce with grief before. grandparents died only after being sick for a long time; some of them were so far from themselves that the death was a relief. nobody close to me has died suddenly, and certainly not like this. im not, by nature or as a result of having been abandoned as a baby, good at letting go of anything really, certainly not a figure this important in my life. i keep thinking "oh, she'd like this song" or wanting to talk to her and remembering I cant. I want to ask her questions about what happened for a moment before remembering i cant. its horribly uncomfortable, and i dont know if ive ever felt this kind of alone before.

Divorce

I was thinking this afternoon and I realized that my dad and my stepmom are the only people in my family to be divorced (not counting my mother's side...then the numbers change a lot).

My grandmother lost her first husband to war, but then she and my grandfather were together until his heart gave out, at least 25 years later. Their marriage was never happy, but they stuck it out together.

My aunt, my dad's sister, and my uncle (who was discharged from the hospital this week) have been married...forever. I'm pretty sure it's been at least 40 years. Their daughter has been married 14 years. My dad's brother never married, but has been seeing the same woman since before I was born (she's a Jehovah's witness, and he's not, so they can't marry under her religion).

My stepmom's parents were married for at least 40 years when her father died, having suffered a stroke some years earlier. I'm not sure how long my aunt, my stepmom's sister, was married before her husband died of a brain tumor, but it was at least 12 years.

My dad and my stepmom will have been married for 15 years in May, and have been together about 7 years prior to getting married.

It's weird to think about being with someone that long, about everything that changes, in yourselves, in the marriage, and in the world, over a long period of time. I hope that we're as lucky as most of my relatives have been.

Updates

My uncle officially had a massive heart attack. Thank God he's doing better than expected. We don't know what will happen next, with the surgeries he needs but is too weak to have, or when he'll be released. But so far, so good. That's as much as you can as for.

They've built a new wing at the hospital, so my dad and aunt didn't have to go to the same ICU where they essentially lost my grandmother. I also was concerned that this might remind my dad of his father, who had several heart attacks which ultimately killed him. Luckily, that hadn't occurred to my dad. Hopefully I didn't get the idea stuck in his head.

We put up our tree tonight. Well, I did, with M and his mom giving input. It's blue and silver, in homage to my Jewish stepmom, and looks lovely. We managed to get a few shots of Loki in the antlers. In past years I've sent out Christmas cards with Buck in antlers, but he won't play along this year.

M's mom is leaving tomorrow, which is sad. We had a nice little productive day today, running some errands, putting some photos in frames printed off the computer (they look great!) and getting the tree up. I'm feeling a little manic now and thinking off a bunch of thigns I want to do, but I'll be off to bed soon.

M's fishing buddy's family had invited M to go to the Gator Bowl with them, being hardcore FSU fans. As long as M spends the night before with me and doesn't have to shell out a ton of money, I can't really complain. I'll miss him during his brief stay in Jax, but it'll be really nice for him. The game sold out in two hours, so he's lucky. I wish I could go to Pasadena!

I go back to the surgeon tomorrow. Hopefully it'll be all good news. Wish me luck!

There's something about Mary

I had some photos of my mom from when I was little that I wanted to scan and include, but in the chaos that is my house right now, I can't locate them, so this is going to be pretty text heavy.

My biological mother, Mary, was 17 when she married my dad and had me.  9 months later, she left us...for the guy down the hall. She got her divorce, then had my little sister, who never knew I existed until she was an adult. I grew up with my da d, who raised me to feel sympathy for my mother's rough life (he was her second marriage, her parents were awful, etc) instead of hating her. Even when she stole money from us...twice. Even when she told him she wanted to get back together, only to go out for a bit and never come back. Even when we learned she was a drug adict, stripper, and prostitute. After a time in 5th grade when she called because she first wanted to get back together with my dad (no dice, we were about to move in with my stepmom and my dad knew better than to trust Mary now), then needed to "borrow" from my college fund and my dad to drive her all over the place so she could get from Virginia to a guy in Florida, we didnt hear from her again. In Florida she managed to rack up multiple felonies before moving to the west coast and getting a few more. She moved on to her 5th husband, and we didn't hear a peep from her until I was 23.

That year, my little sister found my father and we got in touch. We'd met once when I was about 4 and my mother actually showed up for a visit. She put us in some guy's truck together and told me this was my sister. Very confusing for so young a child, and my sister was too young to remember it at all. So we started a relationship. A few months later, my sister heard through other family members that our mother was within days of dying from liver cancer and wanted to see her. My parents, my dad and my stepmom, hired an investigator and found Mary for me. We began to talk, and my sister and I made plans to go to Oregon and see her. My sister, who had already been abandoned by our mother twice, ended up bailing, and I went alone.

I went to see my mother 3 times, I think, and we talked al the time, on the phone and on the internet. Though I was very sick at the time, being hospitalized twice for migraines that I couldn't get rid of, and I ended up losing my job and having to sell my house and move back home, Mary kept up the story that she was on death's door. She was very involved in my life, sending me stuffed animals at holidays and my birthday, getting upset if I didn't return her calls promptly. I became horribly depressed, not knowing if my migraines would get better and believing that I finally had a relationship with my mother only to lose her to liver cancer. At my dad's house, I started getting better and moved to Alabama for law school. My mother stuck around for a month or two of school, about a year after we "met", before disappearing again. Abandonment #2.

I still don't know what happened. My best guess is that she knew the jig was up; it was pretty hard to believe that she really had end-stage liver cancer when she wasn't getting treatment and was still drinking. She'd gotten off the crack and heroin and pain pills and whatever else, but she was still falling over drunk a lot and slept most of the day during my visits. It' makes me unable to believe all the answers I thought I'd gotten from her about why she left and the reasons for the way she'd lived her life since then. I know that a lot of things she said were wrong, others were flat out lies. She frequently confused me and my sister, and was adamant that things that had happened to my sister had happened to me. She'd claimed that she stopped calling because she'd been told that I'd died in a car crash and my sister had been murdered. I do believe that my sister's dad might have made up a lie to protect my sister from her, but I don't believe he would have included me in that lie. I do believe that my mother's addict brain honestly believes a lot of what she said, or maybe she just repeated the lies so much they became the truth to her. I'll never know.

Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's all passed in 2006 with no word from my mother. Her internet presence disappeared. She stopped calling. In January, I happened to catch her online, and she acted like nothing had happened, like we'd been talking just the day before. I was dumbfounded. Then, she fell off the face of the earth again. Meanwhile, I had met relatives on my mother's side, cousins and an aunt, who are still a part of my life. Word would come to me that my mother had died; for awhile, I'd been able to laugh off the rumors because I was talking to her, but now, I didn't know. In the fall of 2007, I heard again that she had died, and been dead for awhile. I panicked  because I didn't know. I ran internet searches. I called the police station, asking if her name had come up. It hadn't. My dad called, trying to find out for me. She claimed that she didn't have my phone number after I'd moved (which had never changed). My dad gave her my number again, and she promised she was going to call on Saturday. Of course, the call never came.

The holidays and my birthday passed again once, then twice. Still nothing. I graduated law school. I got married. My sister was there, as was my cousin, who is the daughter of my mother's brother, who had passed. Her mother, who had been a good friend of Mary's, was supposed to come but was ill. My "aunt's" son, who at 16 had visiting my mother and been offered heroin, never RSVPd. My stepmother fulfilled the motherly duties at the wedding, as she had earned the right to do.

After the wedding, it felt wrong to me that so much had happened - the wedding, graduation, 4 surgeries at that point - and my mother had no idea. So I called. She was angry at me for calling at first, playing the victim and accusing me of trying to make her feel bad. I guess she was drunk. She called me again the next day. We were in contact for a week or two, then she said she was going to rehab for three months. I called around a month later, and low and behold, she was home. She said her insurance had forced her to leave rehab after 13 days. She said she had a card for me. It never came. Months later, she emailed me, saying she wanted to tell me the truth. I emailed her back, and then she balked, saying that if I wanted to talk to her, I needed to call her. I didn't, not knowing how to react but being sure that I couldn't stay calm through a conversation. And that was it. I haven't heard anything else. I tried calling her last night, wondering if she even realized it was my birthday. She didn't answer; maybe she was out, but it seems more likely that she didn't want to talk to me. She hasn't called back. I called her again this afternoon, and again, nothing.

I know all the obvious things - it's better that I grew up with a relatively normal father and stepmother, who are protective and honest. I know logic says I should just let her go and stay away, but I can't. I can't bear the thought that she won't know when she's a grandmother, that I won't know if she's ill or dies. I hate that I don't know what's true, and that maybe I never can whether I have a relationship or not, because she doesn't know. She's an addict, and she clearly thinks like an addict. I don't know what her games are - why she came into my life, only to cruelly pretend to be terminal when I was going through so much, and only to walk away yet again. I don't know why she read from a webpage of mine that had jokes from college between my friends and I, to my father and told him he should look at it himself because she was concerned, when she had told me the page was hilarious. It was full of the kind of stuff you don't want your dad to see. I don't know why she told me she wanted to talk to my dad, who is a recovering alcoholic, because he was the only one who would understand what she was going through, only to yell at him instead and accuse him of trying to keep her away from me. I can't understand her motivations.

And it sucks that she's chosen not to be a part of my life. Whether or not Im better off for it, I have no doubt that these decisions are about what's best for her, not what's best for me. She's never given me a choice.

Here's the people that have chosen to be my family and be in my life. I love them all. 

My sister, brother in law, and cousin from my mom's side



I guess I'm still trying to earn my mother's love, and I don't know how, and it's dumb because the woman that has always been my mother, my stepmom, Suzie, loves me unconditionally. But the heart wants what it wants...and if you're reading this, Mary, all I've ever wanted is for you to stick around.

Birthdays

Today was my birthday; Tuesday is M's. I have a longstanding tradition of crying on my birthdays. This year is apparently going to be no different. I thought it was going to be relatively unimportant "crying" - being upset at how the Redskins game ended (we were robbed!) but really, nothing big in the scheme of things.

Then, my stepmom called. She was on the way back from the hospital (immediately, I thought something was wrong with my dad). My uncle, my dad's sister's husband, had a heart attack and had be medivaced from one hospital to a better one. He's been supposed to have heart surgery for awhile, but has been too weak to survive it. He and my aunt both have a lot of health issues; I feel so bad for them. They did an angioplasty I guess and cleared some of the blockages, and now it's waiting for the cardiologist tomorrow. I assume he's in the same cardio ICU where my dad and aunt's mother went when she had her heart attack, that was essentially the same as a stroke; she languished in a nursing home for a couple years before dying, never recovering. My poor family, going in there. My aunt's son is several states away and not in a job that he can easily afford time off; her daughter is at a conference on the other side of the country and they haven't been able to reach her yet. I hope my uncle recovers well. The one upside to this is that it might help bring my dad and my aunt close again.

After I got off the phone and had a little time to think about it, it made me think about my future. One day, M or I is going to get really sick. I might have to take him to the ER with a heart attack, and spend the night in the hospital praying I get him back. Or he may be praying at my bedside. If we're lucky, we'll both stay free of serious, life-threatening illness until the other person is too senile to know it.

I'm also generally feeling sorry for myself today. Half of it is because of the surgery recovery; I'm still bleeding/leaking exudate constantly, to the point of having to change clothes repeatedly over the course of the day. This is expected and I know it means I'm healing...but it still sucks. Two weeks down, another month and a half or so to go. *sigh*

The other half is because of my mommy issues. The short version is she abandoned me as a baby, came back into my life several years ago, then proceeded to abandon me again. And now is acting like she's a victim. She's been around for exactly one birthday; she's been gone for 27 of them. And yes, I know I'm better off, that the way she's lived her life would have been toxic for me, and I have a stepmother that's been around since 1st grade who IS my mother. But my heart just can't buy in to what my rational brain knows.

Of course, lots of things about this weekend have been nice (not the least of which is Bama beating UF. ROLL TIDE!). My mother in law is here, and she and I went to Target Thursday and bought a lot of stuff we needed for the house, as well as birthday and Christmas presents. It's not about how much she spent (a lot) but the fact that she wanted so much to do things for us (and me, who isn't her blood and hasn't produced a grandchild yet). My father in law also called, as did my sister in law. Lots of friends and acquaintances wished me well. So there's lots of good...but right now what's important is my uncle.

Get better soon, Uncle Bob. I love you.

Best09 - Day 2

 
  
    
  
 

December 2 Restaurant moment. Share the best restaurant experience you had this year. Who was there? What made it amazing? What taste stands out in your mind?
This a tough one for me. We eat out a lot, but it's not usually anything special. All the fancy meals I quickly thought of, aside from our wedding reception which wasn't at a restaurant,  were actually last year. There was a candelit dinner on a pier on our honeymoon, but that meal was actually a bit disappointing. So....hrmm...aha! I just found an answer, and sorry, its going to be another cheesy newlywed dealie.

When M and I got engaged at the beginning of the year, I knew his dad reasonably well, having spent Thanksgiving at his house twice, one of which was just M, his dad, and me for 4 days, plus we'd met him a couple times when he was passing through town. But I'd only met his mother once or twice for a much shorter period of time. I knew his dad liked me, but I didn't feel like I'd really won her over yet; she's a lot more reserved and takes longer to get to know. So a couple weeks after the engagement, I took a trip down to the panhandle, where M's brother and mom both live. I stayed with his brother and sister in law, and had a good time, but I made sure to get a chance to have lunch with his mom to get to know each other better.

We went to a popular place in town, at least for the retiree set; I don't remember the name. It was good, nothing fabulous, and that's not why I remember it. What was important was the one on one time with his mom, getting to know each other and just as importantly, showing her that I care about getting her approval. I remember talking a lot about her church; she's Catholic though attending a Baptist church, and I call myself some weird mix of Episcopal and Jewish. We were married by a Unitarian Universalist. She asked me about my religious beliefs, and though I'm sure if it were up to her, I would have been more religious, but she seemed to accept my answers. We talked a lot about M, and our relationship. I think it was really important to make that showing to her that I wanted to be a part of the family, and get to know everyone. And it was really the beginning of she and I having our own relationship; after that, I would sometimes call her on the 6 hour drive between Tuscaloosa and Tallahassee (remember that I lived in Alabama while M was in Tally) and she would call me as well. It was the springboard to a lot of other discussions, even some where we disagreed, as well as making both of us more comfortable with one another when M isn't around. She's coming to town tomorrow and really wants to take me shopping; I'm not sure that without that initial step, to make sure I got a chance to go out to eat with her and get some one on one time, that this is something she'd be comfortable with.

"The first year is the hardest"

I think having gone from a long distance couple to a married couple living together is much more difficult than it would have been if we lived together before or at least in the same town. Things we do that annoy the other person now happen every day, instead of a couple days a month. The house is both of ours, so we both have opinions as to how things should work, where things should go, etc, where before whoever was visiting just respected the "rules" of the other, since it was that person's place.

we're still trying to figure out who pays what - we treat bills we already has as individual bills, butu I also pay the medical bills I'm accumulating, which is difficult without a job. M still hasn't finished moving out of his old place, and the first mortgage payment is due next month, so I guess we'll be paying for two places when money is already tight, not to mention two power bills, the cable is still on over there, yada yada. We also treat the dogs as really belonging to one person, and thus making one person responsible for vet bills. Buck is overdue for his shots and exam, and Loki (M's) has a mass on his ribcage that really ought to be checked out. There's a lot of stress.

We're both kind of irritable right now, M because he's stressed (but then, he always is) and me because I'm physically in pain and feeling kind of neglected and frustrated. So we grate on each other, making us more irritable, in a vicious cycle. A friend of mine got married a few weeks after me to his live-in girl, and marriage has been a breeze for them despite economic stress. They sorted out all the little daily details of who does what, how bills get paid, visions for the future and whatnot while they were living together before marriage. I guess that's why I'm seeing a difference with us and thinking that nto having that opportunity before is making things more stressful.

I don't want to be Negative Nelly. I love M with all my heart and there's a lot of great things about our life together. It's just not the fairy tale I expected to have as soon as we walked down the aisle, and I guess that's my fault for having unrealistic expectations about it.

M's dad is popping in late tomorrow night before we head to the brother-in-law's for turkey day. It's nice to have him around; I get a little isolated here sometimes. And he'll help a lot with things that need to be done, which there's still a lot of. We still have blinds and curtains to hang, shower rods to put up, and I'm always willing to accept help with cleaning. He really wants to use the time wisely, which can be a little stressful when I can't keep going going going all day like he can. But I enjoy being around him, and in a couple days I get to see the rest of the in laws and spend time with my little nephews, who are 1 and 5. Then my folks are driving down for Christmas. Plus, our birthdays are both about a week after Thanksgiving, and M's mom wants to come for that. We've got a busy month ahead with a lot of guests and time with relatives, many of whom we haven't seen since the wedding in June.

I check back in with my surgeon tomorrow. I think I'm healing pretty well, but I've still got a long road ahead, even in the best of circumstances. I'm getting used to doing what I have to do to care for the wound (which I wasn't sure I'd be able to do, and M is pretty sure that he couldn't, so I'd be kind of screwed). I guess that's just how I operate, I find strength I didn't know I had when I need it. I like to think I'm stoic and independent, but I know I'm really not. I require frequent hugs.