What happened? A lot in the last seven months. Frankly, most of it hasn't been good. Bear with me a moment, for those of you who don't know the whole story. There is a moral to it.
Shortly after my last post, I managed to fall on my elbow walking Mario on icy sidewalks (as opposed to my ass, which would have been better) and shatter it. Surgery followed and I can safely say that it hurt worse than being in labor. So there was that. No skiing in the winter. Boo.
January went without much event, just healing up from the surgery but February started off with a bang. Right before Big Bit's birthday, my Dad was diagnosed with terminal leukemia, a month from turning 65. Those of you that have read the blog know that Dad had his battles with cancer, those being smoking related, but this apparently was not. So much for me and my bitching about his smoking.
Strike one.
A week to the day after this became news, Big Bit called me hysterical. He was at his Dad's and had gotten on to Facebook, only to see that TH's niece had posted she had to go home because her brother had committed suicide. Yep. Our nephew. Brad's sister's kid. I was even more shocked because we knew nothing. I got through to TH while he was teaching a class. The fact I did that warned him it was bad. Indeed, he reached his sister as I reached our niece and the worst had happened the night before. They'd had no time to reach us due to logistical issues. We assured them finding out the way we did wasn't anyone's fault. It damn sure was a shock though. I think I'm even more glad I quit Facebook.
Strike two.
So, we're going to a funeral for a 17 year old, two weeks short of his 18th birthday. A beautiful boy, who'd gone through his struggles but seemed to be on a good path. We'd seen him at Christmas and he'd been delightful. Played with Little Bit, chatted, was much more the boy I remembered than he'd been for years. Perhaps this was a sign. We didn't know. I've been to enough teen aged boys' funerals in my life. I didn't need to go to another one. Big Bit was distraught; he and his cousin were a year apart in age and quite good friends when little.
So that passed. The only humorous part of the week was when Big Bit and I were texting each other after the funeral about the obnoxious stepmonster in law - who was in full form.
Another Friday went by with no bad news. Whew.
And then.
My mother called with the news that my cousin's 19 year old, again a great pal of Big Bit's when younger, had killed himself. At this point, kids, I was numb, I was reeling. I was beyond belief that our lives could suck as progressively much as they were getting to, as well as being devastated for my cousin and her husband, great parents, as I had been for my sister-in-law and her husband, who are REALLY good people.
Big Bit was more stoic at this funeral, but for the second time in a month he got to see his boyhood plastered on a wall in the form of a slide show. Was it good that he was in their lives enough to make the final show? Sure. But I'm also sure it was very hard for him.
So, we're going to a funeral for a 17 year old, two weeks short of his 18th birthday. A beautiful boy, who'd gone through his struggles but seemed to be on a good path. We'd seen him at Christmas and he'd been delightful. Played with Little Bit, chatted, was much more the boy I remembered than he'd been for years. Perhaps this was a sign. We didn't know. I've been to enough teen aged boys' funerals in my life. I didn't need to go to another one. Big Bit was distraught; he and his cousin were a year apart in age and quite good friends when little.
So that passed. The only humorous part of the week was when Big Bit and I were texting each other after the funeral about the obnoxious stepmonster in law - who was in full form.
Another Friday went by with no bad news. Whew.
And then.
My mother called with the news that my cousin's 19 year old, again a great pal of Big Bit's when younger, had killed himself. At this point, kids, I was numb, I was reeling. I was beyond belief that our lives could suck as progressively much as they were getting to, as well as being devastated for my cousin and her husband, great parents, as I had been for my sister-in-law and her husband, who are REALLY good people.
Big Bit was more stoic at this funeral, but for the second time in a month he got to see his boyhood plastered on a wall in the form of a slide show. Was it good that he was in their lives enough to make the final show? Sure. But I'm also sure it was very hard for him.
Strike three.
Oh, and just for good measure, Little Bit was diagnosed with Aspergers in February. Not totally unexpected, but another thing to manage.
We ached through March, we suffered through April, and lagged into May. The weather didn't help. Boise decided to have its wettest, cloudiest spring in recent history. The sun? It wasn't coming out. At all. Ever, apparently. Little Bit struggled at school, and Big Bit did too.
Mid-may came, and Big Bit was finishing up his last semester. We were starting to get some equilibrium, I thought. We'd been to see Dad frequently, and I'd talked to him on the phone, but one could tell he was getting progressively more sad and more weak. TH and I went to see him, and when I got there he was so bad that he basically needed to sleep all the time so that he wouldn't hurt. If he woke up, he was in pain. I saw him for probably two minutes that weekend. I was a chicken. I couldn't face it. I am pretty ashamed of myself for that. Thank God for my stepmother. If God didn't send her into Dad's life, I don't know who did, because apparently I wasn't going to be able to take care of him. The last time I saw him, he was asleep, finally peacefully, and I didn't want to wake him up. I still wonder if that was the right decision.
We went home, as it didn't seem he was at "that" stage. In the middle of the night my phone rang. I HATE middle of the night phone calls. Nothing good comes of these calls, ever. They're either death or drunk dialing and there's nothing positive about either. Yeah, big shocker, Dad was gone. I was glad in a way, because he really was done with all of this at the end and I certainly couldn't blame him. But it was sad and horrible that all he wanted was to get outside, maybe go fishing or at least drive in the hills and the fricking weather wouldn't permit it. I will never understand that.
So...more numbness. Getting one foot in front of the other, much less getting up, has been hard. Big Bit went to his Dad's shortly after the funeral and apparently has decided to unleash his very unattractive passive aggressive side for no reason on us. It's been a month since I've talked to him, other than one rather unpleasant test exchange. Gosh, 19 year olds are fun.
So...color me devastated.
But here's where it gets better.
I am glad the Packers won the Super Bowl. In the grand scheme of things, yes, this seems unimportant. But my Dad watched it. And was as excited as I was. We talked afterwards and it was so nice to share something happy right after the bad news. I also was able to get him a signed SB XVI hat by Korey Hall, the Packers player from Glenns Ferry, ID. Dad and I had a personal point of pride about Jerry Kramer. It was there for Korey as well.
I am glad that our nephew was as interactive as he was and allowed us to enjoy his company over the last months of his life; he played with his much younger cousin, showed his sweet side, and I wouldn't trade that, even with how things ended. He hadn't been that way for a long time. It was nice to see that sweet little 1 year old I met so long ago within him again.
I am glad that Big Bit was important enough not only in our nephew's life but in my cousin's son's life that he featured in these slide shows. It's been a long hard slog to make sure that he was plugged into the family. I think he still doesn't always feel like he is, but that's a universal problem. We all wonder where we belong sometimes, I think.
I am glad my Dad and Mom had me so young, as much as I'm sure that complicated their lives at the time. I wouldn't have had 44 years with my Dad, even with the ups and downs, if he hadn't been 20 when I was born.
I am glad that I finally had the light go on in my head regarding my relationship with Big Bit. The last 17 years have been rewarding, but tough. I love him. I have busted my ass and bought my attorney a Corvette trying to get him with me. I have spent thousands of dollars in plane tickets to ensure I saw him frequently. I spent thousands of dollars in child support as was my obligation, and I didn't begrudge that. I saved a full year of child support that I got and managed to come up with 1/2 the amount his Dad gave him for college. Who didn't need the money. But I digress. My point is that I have done everything, everything that I could have done. People have things they regret and probably would re-do if they could. But given how things came, I've done the best I can. I hope he knows how much I love him, and I hope he decides to be more respectful. But I can control how I react to the disrespect.
I feel strong, stronger than I have for some time. I have a wonderful husband I met 17 years ago yesterday. I have a wonderful son who I love, even when he's exasperating the hell out of my by not going to sleep as he is tonight; who will figure out how to deal with Aspergers; and I have a son with a lovely soul who I think will remember who he really is and how much I love him. I have my Mom, my family and my friends. I have people in my life who sent a beautiful flower arrangement to my Dad's funeral even though I won't meet any of them until October when I go to Green Bay - my blog family at PocketDoppler.com. Jerry Kramer has read a blog post of mine and liked it. Jerry Kramer!!!
This litany has sounded extremely depressing, I'm sure. Don't send the police, or the psychiatrist. This is a way of me letting all of this out, and apologizing to those of you to whom I seemed to fall of the face of the earth. I care about you guys. I just was trying to get through the day. That's getting better.
I am lucky. I am alive.
Even though I am devastated.
Oh, and just for good measure, Little Bit was diagnosed with Aspergers in February. Not totally unexpected, but another thing to manage.
We ached through March, we suffered through April, and lagged into May. The weather didn't help. Boise decided to have its wettest, cloudiest spring in recent history. The sun? It wasn't coming out. At all. Ever, apparently. Little Bit struggled at school, and Big Bit did too.
Mid-may came, and Big Bit was finishing up his last semester. We were starting to get some equilibrium, I thought. We'd been to see Dad frequently, and I'd talked to him on the phone, but one could tell he was getting progressively more sad and more weak. TH and I went to see him, and when I got there he was so bad that he basically needed to sleep all the time so that he wouldn't hurt. If he woke up, he was in pain. I saw him for probably two minutes that weekend. I was a chicken. I couldn't face it. I am pretty ashamed of myself for that. Thank God for my stepmother. If God didn't send her into Dad's life, I don't know who did, because apparently I wasn't going to be able to take care of him. The last time I saw him, he was asleep, finally peacefully, and I didn't want to wake him up. I still wonder if that was the right decision.
We went home, as it didn't seem he was at "that" stage. In the middle of the night my phone rang. I HATE middle of the night phone calls. Nothing good comes of these calls, ever. They're either death or drunk dialing and there's nothing positive about either. Yeah, big shocker, Dad was gone. I was glad in a way, because he really was done with all of this at the end and I certainly couldn't blame him. But it was sad and horrible that all he wanted was to get outside, maybe go fishing or at least drive in the hills and the fricking weather wouldn't permit it. I will never understand that.
So...more numbness. Getting one foot in front of the other, much less getting up, has been hard. Big Bit went to his Dad's shortly after the funeral and apparently has decided to unleash his very unattractive passive aggressive side for no reason on us. It's been a month since I've talked to him, other than one rather unpleasant test exchange. Gosh, 19 year olds are fun.
So...color me devastated.
But here's where it gets better.
I am glad the Packers won the Super Bowl. In the grand scheme of things, yes, this seems unimportant. But my Dad watched it. And was as excited as I was. We talked afterwards and it was so nice to share something happy right after the bad news. I also was able to get him a signed SB XVI hat by Korey Hall, the Packers player from Glenns Ferry, ID. Dad and I had a personal point of pride about Jerry Kramer. It was there for Korey as well.
I am glad that our nephew was as interactive as he was and allowed us to enjoy his company over the last months of his life; he played with his much younger cousin, showed his sweet side, and I wouldn't trade that, even with how things ended. He hadn't been that way for a long time. It was nice to see that sweet little 1 year old I met so long ago within him again.
I am glad that Big Bit was important enough not only in our nephew's life but in my cousin's son's life that he featured in these slide shows. It's been a long hard slog to make sure that he was plugged into the family. I think he still doesn't always feel like he is, but that's a universal problem. We all wonder where we belong sometimes, I think.
I am glad my Dad and Mom had me so young, as much as I'm sure that complicated their lives at the time. I wouldn't have had 44 years with my Dad, even with the ups and downs, if he hadn't been 20 when I was born.
I am glad that I finally had the light go on in my head regarding my relationship with Big Bit. The last 17 years have been rewarding, but tough. I love him. I have busted my ass and bought my attorney a Corvette trying to get him with me. I have spent thousands of dollars in plane tickets to ensure I saw him frequently. I spent thousands of dollars in child support as was my obligation, and I didn't begrudge that. I saved a full year of child support that I got and managed to come up with 1/2 the amount his Dad gave him for college. Who didn't need the money. But I digress. My point is that I have done everything, everything that I could have done. People have things they regret and probably would re-do if they could. But given how things came, I've done the best I can. I hope he knows how much I love him, and I hope he decides to be more respectful. But I can control how I react to the disrespect.
I feel strong, stronger than I have for some time. I have a wonderful husband I met 17 years ago yesterday. I have a wonderful son who I love, even when he's exasperating the hell out of my by not going to sleep as he is tonight; who will figure out how to deal with Aspergers; and I have a son with a lovely soul who I think will remember who he really is and how much I love him. I have my Mom, my family and my friends. I have people in my life who sent a beautiful flower arrangement to my Dad's funeral even though I won't meet any of them until October when I go to Green Bay - my blog family at PocketDoppler.com. Jerry Kramer has read a blog post of mine and liked it. Jerry Kramer!!!
This litany has sounded extremely depressing, I'm sure. Don't send the police, or the psychiatrist. This is a way of me letting all of this out, and apologizing to those of you to whom I seemed to fall of the face of the earth. I care about you guys. I just was trying to get through the day. That's getting better.
I am lucky. I am alive.
Even though I am devastated.