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The gloomy weather has had a few windows of dryness and brightness such that some mowing occurred and lunch in the yard went well today. (More later). But i just scampered in because of a downpour and was able to greet a sopping Christine and Carrie with a towel.
It's intriguing how a bright sunny day in March produces as much solar power as a mostly cloudy day in June.
Today is the anniversary of Mom's passing one year ago and Christine's father's passing twenty two years ago. Dad posted to the whatsapp chat "The OB (Original B---es)" with him, myself, and my siblings at 3:25 am
He called me mid-morning in a fluster about Pages and his Mac. Then he arrived at my house at noon, followed shortly by my sister, and we sat in the back yard for a picnic lunch of pizza he brought and cake my sister provided. We had a nice visit, no hagiographic reflections but reflection on her judgemental parents and how that was manifest in her, how she struggled with mental and emotional issues but could not manage to get help for herself. We did find out my father had also gone to therapy at my mother's behest when we lived in South Carolina (one of a number of times my mother wanted Dad fixed because he was the source of all her problems, and Dad obediently went). We also wondered for how long Mom had struggled with the dementia decline, and how she had angrily pushed tasks and responsibilities on Dad. It's hard to know which ones were because they'd gotten beyond her, which ones were because she was sick of them.
We're pretty sure she had ADHD and was anxious and insecure. Anger came out of that frequently. (But she would have never ever admitted to anger; it was a long time before i realized just what an undercurrent of anger she carried with her.) We all think there was grace and a blessing in Mom receiving care day in and out from my father: a message to her that we would care for her -- and i know she did not think we would or cold.
It turns out that a few days ago, on the anniversary of her major stroke, he woke to find her standing at the foot of his bed. I guess i missed the import of that as we ended up focusing on the fact that no, he had not told me this, first i had heard of it.
Dad describes being in a horrible place, but his roller coaster emotions -- the grief crashing over him and then him being reflective or theorizing or enjoying beauty -- are a sign of health, i think. He's experiencing the pain but not stuck in it nor running from it, so much.
I assume all my moodiness is that i am grieving in my own way, although well, it's all mixed up with change at work and the whole surgery-recovery and everything else. The loss i have is the loss of the mother who could have been. The eleven year difference in age let my sister have a better mother, but one still with so much baggage.
I am glad that Mom and Dad had the three years of his care giving and her reduced anxiety and anger. The first major stroke took away some of her bitterness, and it was a gift for them to have so much love together those three plus years. But i am also glad that the second major stroke came before we had to struggle with getting her in some sort of care. I'm not sure where we would have found care for both dementia and her physical inabilities, and being apart would have broken their hearts.
--== ∞ ==--
On Tuesday i had a happy conversation with the yoga instructor from this January. It sounds like we will have a good fit. Financially and scheduling-wise, i think this will work out well. I have paused the CoPilot app, expecting that i will cancel. We'll see! I've transitioned two of the routines from CoPilot to an app called "Seconds Pro" and have added some breathing routines there, too. It occurs to me that i will have more flexibility in what i do, too. If i want to fiddle with some other program on a whim -- like the 5 min yoga stretching program i just saw linked off of someone else's practice -- i can, without making arrangements to adjust the CoPilot accountability tool. I have my own records, so there's that.
It's intriguing how a bright sunny day in March produces as much solar power as a mostly cloudy day in June.
Today is the anniversary of Mom's passing one year ago and Christine's father's passing twenty two years ago. Dad posted to the whatsapp chat "The OB (Original B---es)" with him, myself, and my siblings at 3:25 am
The devils hour, trying to think positive rather than negative, I know That Marie would want us to have our chins up and have that we can do anything attitude . I keep wanting to think she is free rather than lost. It is a tough day and know that it for all of us, yet for me I get to see her in each of you…for me a priceless blessing….pa
He called me mid-morning in a fluster about Pages and his Mac. Then he arrived at my house at noon, followed shortly by my sister, and we sat in the back yard for a picnic lunch of pizza he brought and cake my sister provided. We had a nice visit, no hagiographic reflections but reflection on her judgemental parents and how that was manifest in her, how she struggled with mental and emotional issues but could not manage to get help for herself. We did find out my father had also gone to therapy at my mother's behest when we lived in South Carolina (one of a number of times my mother wanted Dad fixed because he was the source of all her problems, and Dad obediently went). We also wondered for how long Mom had struggled with the dementia decline, and how she had angrily pushed tasks and responsibilities on Dad. It's hard to know which ones were because they'd gotten beyond her, which ones were because she was sick of them.
We're pretty sure she had ADHD and was anxious and insecure. Anger came out of that frequently. (But she would have never ever admitted to anger; it was a long time before i realized just what an undercurrent of anger she carried with her.) We all think there was grace and a blessing in Mom receiving care day in and out from my father: a message to her that we would care for her -- and i know she did not think we would or cold.
It turns out that a few days ago, on the anniversary of her major stroke, he woke to find her standing at the foot of his bed. I guess i missed the import of that as we ended up focusing on the fact that no, he had not told me this, first i had heard of it.
Dad describes being in a horrible place, but his roller coaster emotions -- the grief crashing over him and then him being reflective or theorizing or enjoying beauty -- are a sign of health, i think. He's experiencing the pain but not stuck in it nor running from it, so much.
I assume all my moodiness is that i am grieving in my own way, although well, it's all mixed up with change at work and the whole surgery-recovery and everything else. The loss i have is the loss of the mother who could have been. The eleven year difference in age let my sister have a better mother, but one still with so much baggage.
I am glad that Mom and Dad had the three years of his care giving and her reduced anxiety and anger. The first major stroke took away some of her bitterness, and it was a gift for them to have so much love together those three plus years. But i am also glad that the second major stroke came before we had to struggle with getting her in some sort of care. I'm not sure where we would have found care for both dementia and her physical inabilities, and being apart would have broken their hearts.
--== ∞ ==--
On Tuesday i had a happy conversation with the yoga instructor from this January. It sounds like we will have a good fit. Financially and scheduling-wise, i think this will work out well. I have paused the CoPilot app, expecting that i will cancel. We'll see! I've transitioned two of the routines from CoPilot to an app called "Seconds Pro" and have added some breathing routines there, too. It occurs to me that i will have more flexibility in what i do, too. If i want to fiddle with some other program on a whim -- like the 5 min yoga stretching program i just saw linked off of someone else's practice -- i can, without making arrangements to adjust the CoPilot accountability tool. I have my own records, so there's that.
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Grieving is difficult and complicated. I'm glad you're able to process some of your thoughts and feelings here.