All of the Things

Never one to really pay attention to the news or politics before, for the last few years now our nights are filled with news and TRMS. I had the distinct feeling, the other day, that we have become my parents as I can vividly remember them doing the same thing during the Ross Perot days. It's a little shocking to realize we are now the ancient age they were then. I'm not sure how that happened.

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My mil was diagnosed with dementia several years ago, and while she and I have never been close, it is still painful heartbreaking to watch someone experience this journey. The decline hasn't been linear, so we never know how she'll be impacted from day to day. 

Family dynamics are often a challenge during good times, so it isn't surprising that when things get hard, the cracks will show. And they have--oh boy have they. As much as I wish it didn't, it also brings out some resentment on my part. There is a part of me that resents the attention mil now requires after a lifetime of her having little to do with us...when my own mother devoted so much of herself to us and in the end received so much less. I so wish she were here with us.

It will be two years Sunday.

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One thing about my boys’ school district is that they do really well celebrating those who excel. They invite kids to board meetings and have big ceremonies and such. These kids get t-shirts and hats and certificates and praise on a regular basis. Kids can flourish in that kind of environment. I have a kid who is celebrated at every turn. He is so, so smart, so it is nice to see that others recognize that, too! If I only had kids who excel, I’d likely be very impressed with their district.

The thing is, not all kids excel or find school easy. Some struggle...and it is with that population that I’ve found their district is woefully ill equipped. The kids who give it their all, yet still fall short of the upper 10% seldom get recognition at all (and certainly don’t from the district itself). Kids plugging away and being their best selves can be ignored. Kids with learning differences who need a bit more than others to make the learning field accessible and fair can be pushed aside. I also have a kid who struggles, who works harder than any kid I know. He is so, so smart, and it's heartbreaking to see that others fail to recognize that in him. Getting what he needs has become a costly battle—we are in due process with the boys' school district. After years of trying to do what I could to get the school to accommodate my kid, we ultimately hired an advocate in 2017. It has been a continuous back and forth for the district to ultimately say they'd no longer agree to anything without litigation. The lawyer is now doing his thing. But honestly? Why should it take thousands of dollars to get the school district to do what they should have been doing all along? It isn’t because we want for our kid to have better than everyone else. It’s because we want “accessible.” And if it is this hard for some with a MA (in administration even!) to get what her kid needs, what is it like for those without a background in education? I know the answer to that.

It’s easy to celebrate the creme de la creme. I think to impress me, there needs to be a push beyond that. To impress me, there should be more done for those who struggle the most—not because they are forced, but because they know it’s the right thing to do. To impress me, all kids should be given what’s needed for them to flourish, and it shouldn't take a lawsuit to get to that point. 

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House hunting in our area is not for the faint of heart. We've been looking, although not aggressively right now since last summer. Apparently I have expensive tastes. lol. Hopefully the right place in our budget will reveal itself soon.  

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I've been dreaming a lot lately, which for me to both remember what I've been dreaming and have it reoccur over is unusual.

People have been chasing me as I desperately try to run away. 

I'm running through sludge as I try, unsuccessfully, to chase my kid as he saunters down the street away from me. (And it isn't the kid who would be sauntering that I'm chasing. Just saying)

I've had to get somewhere important only to end up sitting in my car, snarled in a traffic jam, watching the clock tick down to the appointment time. 

Each night the scenario is slightly altered, yet the feeling is always the same. I need to be somewhere/do something yet can't do what has to be done. 

Dr. Go.og.le tells me that I am feeling powerless or lacking self-confidence. Wonder why? Sigh.

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Alone

The boys have been so funny lately. Challenging, too, for sure, but funny. Last week, they had done something that made me chuckle. Without thinking about it, I reached for the phone to call my mom. She'd chuckle about what they did, too.

It took longer than it should have, I suppose, before I remembered. She isn't there to call. No one is now. Yes, my brothers are out there (although we communicate via email if at all). My aunts, uncles, and my grandmother are there. Even very dear friends I consider more like sisters are in my life. It just isn't the same, no matter how much I love them. No one cares about my guys the way their dad and I do, accepts them without a second thought, or listens to the mundane details of our day because they care about it all. I am alone while surrounded by people.

The people I belong to are no longer here. 

It's a humbling thought. It still shakes me to my core. 

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We keep on keeping on around these parts. Not much else to do, is there?

Ten

Yesterday was the 10 year mark for blogging. It seems a bit surreal to see that number. I started this space the day I started stims for the cycle that brought me my boys...

So much has happened since then. I don't think the me of ten years ago could even fathom how different life would be right now. I can't even fathom it, and I'm living it. Sigh.

Anyway, while I don't blog here as much as I used to, I do still care deeply about this place and all of you who have been here for the journey. Thank you. For everything.

Stac

Keep On Keeping On

It's been 6 weeks. An entire month has passed without her in it. Sigh.

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I'm on spring break right now. Instead of relaxing and regrouping for the last 43 days of school (yes, I am counting down), I've been spending my time at my mom's house packing up her belongs and starting to prepare her house for sale.

It's a heartbreaking thought, really. Aside from the memories and people who love and miss her terribly, her life has been reduced to the contents of a 1500 square foot house. The task has been both infinitely harder than I expected and simultaneously easier. It's...

I don't know.

I do know that here I am going through the things she collected over the years while trying to figure out what they meant to her or why she felt like each particular thing was worthy of keeping. I know so many stories behind the things...but there are so many I do not know. How could I have spoken to her every single day, spent countless hours at her house, and yet know nothing about so much?

There are things I've found that have made me laugh. Her insane amount of undies in her drawer, enough where she could have gone months without washing had she wanted. 

Yet, she had gotten rid of so many of the clothes in her closet that she had 12 shirts and a few pairs of jeans she cycled through regularly. Not much else was in her closet clothes wise. I wonder if that was restraint on her part. I know she worried about money. Did she not buy clothing for herself because of that? It makes me sick inside to think that could be the reason.

It has made me think about what my own children will find when they go through my belongings once I've gone. Will they wonder why I have so many damn jackets and purses when I always use the same ones over and over? Will they look at the set of pregnancy tests I've kept and be grossed out rather than sentimental like I am? Probably. Sigh. 

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My intention was to do the probate of mom's estate myself, saving a substantial amount of money in the process. I purchased a book that told me how to probate an estate in 132 easy steps. At least it seemed that way. I started the process. I completed several forms, but I was just so stressed about it all that I decided my sanity is worth more than saving money. I went to a lawyer - where I found my paperwork was done correctly, thank you very much - and turned it all over to him. The hearing is in May; I'll be moving forward with selling the house once I've been named executor. (I continue to fly solo on decisions, despite the fact that both my brothers live within a mile of her house. I sure hope that changes, but I don't know that it will.)

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Both of my parents requested to be cremated. Their current happily ever after location is my kitchen table. It's somewhat surreal. I'm not all together comfortable with that location, but I am not sure where to put them. They didn't exactly want their ashes spread anywhere, and I'd have to admit the conversations about cremation never extended to what would happen after. So, there they sit.

I did decide that I am going to have a cremains necklace made for myself. (Funny that the thought of wearing their ashes wigs me out so much less than finding a place in my house for their ashes.) I've also decided to make memorial necklaces for the grandchildren as a gift. Of course, to do this will mean I will have to open the urns to extract the ashes, but I am trying to not think about that part.

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We are all still processing the loss. My knee jerk reaction to call my mom whenever something happens or to just talk has lessened some. It is a little scary to realize that something has happened and that desire to talk to her about it didn't come like before. I miss her terribly, but the tears have stopped (for all of us) for the most part. The sadness isn't quite as crushing as it was a few weeks ago. Progress, I suppose.

Ja.son has selected some mementos from mom's house and has put up several pictures next to his bed, which seems to bring him comfort. He, too, is now able to talk about memories and fun times without the immediate welling of tears, although he still does well up from time to time. 

Ja.ck's concept of what is going on has been harder to gauge. He is still so young (just turned 6) and he wasn't as close to grandma as his brothers were. He knows and says that he misses her, but we haven't got a lot more out of him than that. 

Sh.awn is the one I am most worried about, in particular because he does have an expressive language delay and it is hard for him to articulate the thoughts he has. He has also never cried, even though, he, too, talked to my mom almost daily, and I think feels this loss on a much deeper level than his brothers because of that. When she first passed, any time we talked about it or mentioned her name, he would suddenly state he wasn't feeling well and needed to go to the doctor. Thankfully, that has passed. Now, he will randomly ask where she is, even though he knows the answer, and tell me that he misses her. He even pretended to call her on the phone the other night to talk. That just about broke my heart, I have to say.

Overall, though, we are as good as you could expect in this kind of situation. We're doing lots of talking, lots of snuggling, and we keep on keeping on.

Numb

My mom passed on February 24th...man, that is still hard to write. She passed peacefully while listening to a video of my Shawn singing "You've Got a Friend In Me." I hope that brought her some comfort...

While I know with every fiber of my being that she is no longer here-how could I not with this permanent ache that I have-I think I'm living just this side of denial for the time being. Maybe that is okay? Or maybe it's not? I don't know, but for now, I am able to keep getting up and doing what needs to be done. Because really? There isn't anything else to do. 

Children still need to be cared for. 

Bills still need to be paid. 

Things I would rather not have to do have to happen.

Like it or not, life continues. There's no pause. No stopping. It just continues, even during those times you wish desperately that it wouldn't.

Hospital 2

They called me this morning with news that she has had a heart attack. They took her down for an angiogram where they found a tight blockage of her main artery. They placed a stent. The procedure went very well.

We are now hopeful that this will allow her to oxygenate better and focus on improving. She was starting to show some signs of responding to the treatment for pneumonia before the angiogram. Now we can hope for even more of a positive response. She is still very sick, though. 

And I am still really worried.

Hospital

If you could keep my sweet mom in your prayers, I would greatly appreciate it. She was hospitalized on Wednesday with bilateral pneumonia. She was doing okay. Oxygen levels were lower than they'd want, but she was hanging in there. This evening, I got the call that they needed to intubate. She has been through so much...she refused. Was adamant. I went to the hospital to convince her to keep fighting. Finally, she agreed to be intubated.

My gut said that after everything she's been through, this isn't going to be the thing that takes her. I told her that. Now I'm questioning myself. Is my "gut" nothing more than some stupid Pollyanna reflex, and I'm full of shit? Denial? I don't know. 

I do know I'm shaken. She is very sick. This could be very bad.

Now we wait and pray her body and the meds are able to do what they need to do so she can heal.