I am a daughter of a Parkinson’s Momma. I am not a medically inclined person, in any way shape or form. I have been an Insurance Claims Adjuster for about 15 years, and then followed my true love of food, and been a waitress, chef, and manager of a restaurant for about 7 years. This was all before I gave it all up, because My Momma had Parkinson’s.
On a wild day, when the Farmer was a little over whelmed, I made the comment I could come and help him, and take care of Momma, and give my job up, but I had one problem. I had just bought a new car (well…new to me) and the Electrician while he makes good money, did not need to be saddled with bills I had incurred. The Farmer and I made an agreement, and so it was born. I would give up my job, (although to be totally truthful here, it was either be fired or quit, because I really do have an alligator mouth that over rides my rabbit ass.)
So, it came to be, I would be Momma’s Caregiver. At first, it was a walk in the park. Momma still had her facilities about her, and only needed help with maybe getting up and taking a bath, and maybe washing her hair. While the Farmer is my Dad, he was not as fastidious, not my Momma, about keeping things clean, so I busied my days with cleaning house and taking care of both of them.
The Electrician was on the road at the time, so time I spent with them, and was not giving up any time other than being by myself. The electrician came home on the weekends and the only thing he asked of me, was please, be home at that time. Piece of cake.
unfortunately for me, Momma had a really BAD spell, this was after the Electrician had finished his time on the road and was home. You see, I didn’t just take care of Momma, I took care of Cam-Man. I can remember this clearly in my head like it was yesterday. I picked up Cam-man, and his Momma had told me he didn’t feel good. The next thing I knew, I was down and out, so was the Farmer and Momma too. I recovered sorta, and went over to the Farmer’s. I puked at Momma’s state, and knew, we had to call an ambulance.
Momma spent 7 days in the ICU unit, and was released up to the fourth floor. Next thing I knew, I got a call and Momma had stopped breathing and I rushed to the Hospital, full of prayer, and crying the whole time. Momma survived that experience. I don’t think I have ever been so scared in my whole life.
Momma was accepted into a Nursing Home (Thanks to the Nurse, who worked there and spoke to the DON). Momma started therapy, so she could return home to us. She went through 4 months of therapy, and was finally released. She came home. The whole house was re-arranged to accommodate her new “life”.
With momma’s ‘new life” there were so many changes we had to make. We hired “Caregiver’s” simply because the Farmer and I could not handle it on our own.
THAT was almost 2 years ago. I have been Momma’s full time Caregiver, and also taken care of the Farmer too. It is with deep sorrow, that I can no longer do that.
To anyone reading this, for the first time. I ask you, Could you do that? I have been torn two sides of Sunday and then some in between.
I am me. I puke at the sign of snot, anyone who blows their nose in front of me, I will probably puke. Anyone who coughs up anything, I will puke. Blood? do not get me started….I was never inclined to be anything other than I am. I love food, and cooking. period.
The past few years, I have accepted and done what I thought a “good daughter” should. I have made family members suffer from my “absence”. I never thought it would affect me like it has. This is not about my family members, this is about me. period.
I’ve tried to explain to the Farmer and also the Electrician. I have had many conversations with many people, but at the end of the day, it comes right back to me.
Forgive me for being selfish at this point in my life. Don’t get me wrong in any way shape or form. There are people who are on this earth to go through what I’ve been through and they can do it. I’ve reached a point, where I cannot.
I had a very long conversation with someone who is special to me today. She answered some of the questions I had, I also had a very long conversation with a family member today, and she gave me the same answers.
I give……period. This is a painful journey, and I have to cry “I’m done” at this point. I can no longer give up the personal sacrifice, nor can I do what is expected of me at this point.
Have I hurt peeps at this point, oh yea, I have. But when you are in survival mode, you have to give up something. I cannot go down with the ship. Will I be there, HELL YES, but I cannot lose myself in this thing anymore.
So my confession is this. While love the Farmer and Momma too, I cannot do this anymore. There I said it. I am ME. and Momma knows this, she gave me the words yesterday. This whole situation is killing me softly, and everyone and relationships around me. While it is a daughter’s duty to do this, I give. Because simply, I am me, and I give……
I want my old life back. i want to be free again. I don’t want to have to worry about the things I have been worrying about. Trust me they never go away, but when Momma told me yesterday, “I am ok, go and do what you NEED to”, well it hit a chord in me. Momma knows me, probably better than most.
I simply cannot deal with what SHE has been given. So while it breaks my heart, I’ve removed myself from the situation. It doesn’t mean I won’t still be there checking up on everything. It just meant, sometimes things are so painful you have to remove yourself from a situation and re-evaluate what you have.
I love my Momma, but it has become to painful for me to be there. While it may make sense to some, it really does not to me, but it is something I have to do.
I’ve had a rough couple of days lately. Not just because of Momma, but some other issues as well. I decided, I needed to clean out my purse and wallet, because it has become a little heavy lately. I take my purse with me every where, I even changed my purse lately from my “winter one” to my “summer one”. I have to laugh, though. Simply because I went through and demolished Momma’s closet, and drawers. That was a 2 day affair.
In the past few years, I’m not sure what my Momma was thinking, because I have slowly made my way through the house, and cleaned a bunch of stuff. It took me 3 hours to go through my Grandma Ruth’s writing desk that my Mom had taken over as her own. It is a very fine antique, that has a pull down desk with slots like the old-time desks, then it has 3 drawers in it. I cleaned it out and went through everything. I smiled, I giggled and I cried over things I found, and things I truly cherish. After filling up a trash bag, seriously, who really keeps old batteries, and cards from forever ago. I found pictures, that brought smiles to my face. I found letters, I had written from years ago. I found letters Momma had written but never sent. I found My Grandma Ruth’s picture book from the 1920’s through 1950’s, I don’t know who some of the people were, but I could find my Grandma and my Grandpa and also my Dad in the photo’s. Then I found my Grandma Ruth’s funeral book. It tore me up. My Grandma Ruth was a very main figure in my growing up years, she was my Mom so to speak. It broke my heart I could not attend the funeral. But when I found the book, with pictures enclosed. i felt a warm feeling that I can’t explain.
With the desk cleaned out, I moved onto Momma’s room, and went through her dresser. Now I don’t know about you, but I usually keep clothes in my dresser at home. Not my Momma. It is a 4 drawer dresser with a marble top that slides. (It’s heavier than you can imagine) I pulled out the drawers two at a time and dragged them into the living room. I went through everything, and became amazed at some of my findings. I guess Momma, did not want to keep clothes in her dresser, because out of 4 drawers I only found 5 t-shirts, but a bunch of everything else. I found more pictures, that I smiled, laughed and cried about. To me, these 4 drawers were a memory stash.
If you ever wonder if your parent truly loves you, go through their stuff. I found things I had sent to Momma years ago, and she had saved. I also found pictures, and one drawer was dedicated to simply books on tape. I had the living room torn up, and finally weeded out the stuff that could go, but saved a bunch of treasures.
I then moved onto the top of Momma’s closet. With things going the way they are, we needed more room to store momma’s supplies to keep her going. I pulled out everything from the top of the closet, and again the front room was torn up. I do have to giggle though to the Fed Ex driver who is a regular visitor to our house. He arrived, and I had Momma’s favorite hat on my head, and things thrown all over the front room when he made his delivery. He smiled at me, and told me “nice hat”, I had forgotten i had it on, and I smiled and said simply “cleaning out clutter.”
I’ve lived a lifetime of memories the past few days. I’ve remembered momma at her best, when things were “normal” whatever that means. I can see the things she treasured, I’ve kept the best of things, and even brought them to my house, when the Electrician looks at me and says, “What’s this?”. I simply look at him and say, “This is my Momma’s and I’m keeping it.”
The Farmer and I have gone through a multitude of things lately. We have shredded stuff, and giggled, and hugged over the past. Momma is Momma, but she was the glue so to speak. I found a bunch of pictures, that I have taped to her closet, simply so she can look at something when we need her to stand up, so I can finish cleaning her. I will not explain that statement, you can draw your own picture.
I have learned a bunch of things over the past few days. I’ve had some highs and some definite lows. That brings me back to what I originally waned to post about. I cleaned out my wallet today, and I found something I have carried in my wallet for about 22 years now. I would like to share it with y’all.
It is a small square with a cross, that has been stitched into a pocket, and in that pocket is this:
So, my scanning skills are lacking, but it something I have tried to do over the last few years…. God is watching over me, and he knows just how much I can handle, and what lesson’s I need to be learning….. I’ve learnt a bunch the past few days, and I’m still learning.
Some people get uncomfortable about this, but I’m ok with it. Simply for the fact. I Am Me. period, end of sentence. Whatever is thrown my way, I will deal.
I have been doing some cleaning around the Farmer’s lately, and I wanted to clean off the bulletin board, right next to the phone. It has all of the important stuff on it. A calendar, so Caregiver Beth and I can keep track of our days. It has Momma‘s med schedule on it, so we don’t miss a dose. It has Momma’s script for her monthly meds on and let’s us know when to call in for refills. It has phone numbers on it. I will admit, when I left this past February on my cruise, I wrote down EVERYONE’s phone number and Caregiver Beth added her’s to the bunch. I went through the business cards on it, and scaled them down. After all, I do not think we need the phone numbers to Momma’s Cancer Doctor anymore, since she has been Cancer free now for over 10 years.
I did some housekeeping on the bulletin board, some of the things on there had been there since 1995. My wedding announcement was still hanging up there. In my housekeeping chores, I came across something that made me wonder. It is a newspaper clipping ( I have a couple of those in my wallet, so this nut doesn’t fall far from the tree). I saw it, read it, and then kept it.
I gave the bulletin board a new cleaner look, that we all can follow. But this newspaper clipping has just hit me, and hit me hard. The reason? Simply, this is Momma and some of her philosophy.
I don’t know if I have ever mentioned, but my Momma is 1/2 Irish. Trust me, it shows, and while the Farmer and I know this, other’s do not. She can show her Irish when you least expect it. That’s why I found this newspaper cutting so fitting and it has given me some understanding and also a little insight into her.
This is how it goes:
Take time to work,
It is the price of success.
Take time to think,
It is the source of power.
Take time to play,
It is the secret of perpetual youth.
Take time to read,
It is the foundation of wisdom.
Take time to be friendly,
It is the road to happiness.
Take time to love and be loved,
It is the privilege of the Gods.
Take time to share,
Life is too short to be selfish.
Take time to laugh,
Laughter is music of the soul.
It makes sense to me why Momma needs to giggle. it makes sense to me all of those other things to. This is MY Momma. I feel a better understanding of her. Some of you may not know, this is my step-Momma. To me, she is My Momma. Her and I have so much in common including our names. We had similar things happen to us at certain times of our lives. She made me happy when she married the Farmer. She gave me her best, she thought she would never be a Momma, and trust me folks when I tell you, she has been the BEST.
When I look back at things her and I have shared, and the fact, she believed in me when I did not believe in myself. That’s a Momma. Momma has been with me through the worst of times and the best. Guess what? I will be too. But I now understand the need for giggles. They are music to the soul, guess what? We will find them and giggle them, because…that’s what daughters do.
I’ve asked myself this question, quite a bit lately. All the things, that I know, seem to be upside down. I seem to go through my day, as norm, but things that used to make me happy, well…they still do, but it is like a sadness has fallen upon me and I don’t quite know how to handle it.
Things with Momma? They are painful. I hate to see how she is now, and I question, the modern medicine. Yes, she is alive, and Yes, we enjoy her company, most of the time. But where did her quality of life go? The Momma, I know today, is not my Momma. There I said it. The woman I see before me today, is NOTHING, like what I know. Between the Parkinson’s, the Parkinson’s Dementia, and just plain old “stuff”, this is not my Momma.
It hurts me to the core, when she cries, because her mind has given her a scene that she thinks is real, but it is not. It hurts me that she cannot swallow, so she drools worse than a 2-year-old teething. It hurts me when she tries so hard to stand and walk, and she gets scared, because her limbs are gripped in the stiffness, and she cannot make them work the way she wants them too. It hurts, because her neck is full of spasms, and she cannot hold it up. It hurts me because she is in pain, and full of “things” in her mind, and I cannot help her. There, I said it. I. Cannot. Help. Her.
Oh sure, I can give her a bed bath, and scrub her head, so she stops itching,, I can clean her up after she goes on the potty. I can hold her hand and just sing to her and she smiles and sings too. I can hold her hand and talk to her in soft tones, and tell her stories of our past, they seem to comfort her. I call the Farmer in on particularly rough moments, so he can back me up, so she will believe what I am saying. Momma is tired. I know this. Heck for that matter, the Farmer and I are tired too.
It is not all doom and gloom. There are moments, when Momma shines through and it is truly a joy to see, but they are coming farther and farther in between. It’s okay though. Truly it is. What will be will be.
I haven’t written on my blog for a while, simply because, when I started this blog, it was about my life with Momma. Life with Momma has been painful lately, and while it is hard for me to write this, I owe it to myself to see it through. I’ve been contacted by so many people, that have the same disease as Momma. Parkinson’s Disease. I’ve made a lot of friends through this blog as well.
While it is painful for me to share with y’all these things, I will do it. If only to let y’all in on my world and let you know, or simply just to educate others.
I really just wish I could find my Happy Place about now, and trust me I will.
I have always looked at my Blog as a place to put my feelings into perspective. To try to share them with all of y’all, and make sense of them myself. The funny thing is, I seem to have lost my way, so to speak.
Sometimes, I re-read what I have written and I feel what I was feeling at the time I wrote them. I go through every emotion and every feeling that I had at the time. I look back, and I laugh, and I cry, I cry hard, because there are so many things I never said.
I really am not trying to be depressing, I am trying to figure out some things in my mind at the moment. I made a post a few times about the “Que Sera Sera” effect. While it still rings true today, it has a different meaning.
I’ve noticed some things lately, they are not happy things, they are things, that make my heart give a big “uh oh”… They are things that I have watched over the past few years, and while Momma is “still here”, she is not “still here”.
I had a “first” this past week, Momma did not know who I was. That truly hurt my heart. I knew it was coming, but I never thought I would react the way I did. It hurts, inside, but you cannot let it show outside.
We also had some good times, where Momma knew who I was, she always knows who the Farmer is. We talked about it today, when she mentioned that she was “old” when she got married,. When I reminded her of the fact they have been married for 31 + years, she smiled and said yes, it was a good thing.
Momma was mad today. She was mad, that I had to wipe her butt, when she had an “accident” and that she could no longer control, her body. She was also not to happy at the fact, that I made her get out of bed today. When I woke her up and told her it was time to get up, she was just plain old mad.
Forgive me, but that was a good thing. Because, I made her move and get her muscles moving, and proceed with the day, she got mad, at me. I will not let her just sleep 24/7, I will not let her just give up. Maybe I should, some of you ask?
Nope, that is not my Momma, my Momma is tired, and I know it, but I will not let her go down without fighting. Maybe, I am selfish,maybe I am fighting a never-ending battle, BUT until she tells me it’s over, it ain’t over, and there is not a fat lady singing….
Hey Y’all…How are all of you doing? While I have had my blog going on 3 years now, I used to post daily. After the first year, I still posted daily and was a proud member of the Post a day, I did it for the first 2 years of my blog. Somehow…life seemed to get in the way, and I quit laying down all the words on paper (so to speak).
Somewhere along the way, some things got to painful for me to write down anymore. You see, if I write them, that makes them real. Maybe I have been running from them, or maybe I just don’t want to “share” that part of me. I’m not sure of the answer.
Lately, I feel, I have been on “overload”, and no one seems to understand it, least of all me. I’ve been mean to my husband, I’ve been mean to the Farmer, and I’ve cried buckets. Sometimes, I feel so torn in every direction, that somewhere along the line, I “lost” me.
Yes, I am the daughter of a Parkinson’s Momma, yes, I am the Farmer’s daughter, yes, I am the Electrician’s wife, Yes, I am Momma to the kids. Yes, I am “Jo” to Cam-man. But lately, I’ve wondered, who is Jo?
I had kind of “AHA” moment this morning at Church, and the sermon filled my heart. But after hearing it, I went on and was mean to the Farmer, of which I apologize for.
Sometimes, things hit me and I do feel on “over load”, there is so much I feel compelled to do, and not a lot of people understand it. I don’t understand it, and it’s me.
I feel guilt in my heart, for things I’ve done recently, and I don’t want to be the nasty person I am and can be. I can only hope that the Farmer and the Electrician can understand me, they know me the best.
It’s not an easy road I walk, I try to balance everything and everyone, and do the best that I can. Sometimes I fall short of everyone else’s expectations. But I guess I will say to them, I am me, and I am doing the best I can with what I know.
I do know in my heart, I am meant to take care of Momma, and give her peace, when peace is sometimes hard to achieve. There are times, when I could just curl up and give, but I won’t, because Momma needs me right now, and I’m sorry to the rest of my family, that may have to do without me at certain times, and may have to do things for themselves. But honestly, we are all in this thing together. All’s I ask, is that you work with me.
I have joy in my day, at different times. But I have also learned the hard way, I need time to myself, to just be me, if that means staying in my p.j.’s all day and not doing anything, then that is what I need. I, as a Caretaker, am really good at taking care of everyone else, but taking care of me? Nope, not so good at that. I’m not complaining, really I am not, I am just trying to explain to those around me, (and they read my blog), that maybe, I might need a little bit of extra care, or maybe even just a “Thank you” and some appreciation. Goodness, knows I appreciate all of y’all.
Sometimes, being a Caregiver is a hard thing, but sometimes, the Blessings outweigh the bad, and maybe I am just going through a rough patch right now, who knows.
Sometimes, I am so confused by the roller coaster of emotions that I go through on a daily basis, that my whole insides are overturned and then some. Some days are a giggle fest, other’s are a crying fest. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and yes, while I am learning a bunch, I hurt a bunch too. I’m trying my best not to be a wimp, and maybe my reflex is to be mean, that’s not right either.
Someone told me the following: “Sometimes, the hardest lessons hurt the most…” True. And they often teach the most.
I’m learning a bunch right now, but that doesn’t make any less painful……
Hey y’all. Yes this pic is an old one, simply because our “big” sister, hasn’t taken a new one and she fell back on the oldies but goodies reel.
Our “other sister” Ms. Baby has gotten to post on the blog, so we felt we should be able to as well. So here, goes.
I’m the one on the left, and my name is Goldie, although recently Momma has called me Ginger, (which should have been my name, but well what can I say?) My Momma named me, as I am technically her kitty. The one across from me ( my bigger sister), is named Spice, and she is the Farmer’s kitty, aka spoiled rotten.
Things around our house have changed lately, and we wanted to add our pawthinking into the mix. This is our Momma’s chair, that we are both guarding. We do it well don’t we? When our big sister first came around, me and Spice were not to sure about her. Yea, she saved us that cold night and begged the Farmer to put us into the shed. Which he did, simply because she had a cat at HER house, named Ms. Baby, But the “big house” was ruled by someone named Toots… Apparently,
When we first came to live in the “big house”, it was new and things were strange. We’ve gotten over that, and now WE own the joint.
Some odd things have been happening lately though, and we need to let y’all know. While our Sister, keeps cooking the bacon and eating it, Wednesdays are our favorite. You see, Dad goes to his Wed. thing, and Sis watches us and Momma, and at the end of the night we get chicken.
Our Big Sissy, is such a sucker, she cooks stuff and always gives us whatever she has cooked. But on Wednesdays, the Farmer (aka Dad) brings home Lee’s Fried Chicken, and Sissy is such a sucker, she gives us at least one of her pieces of chicken. Hey, we are not complaining.
Lately though, me, (Goldie) has taken a liking to hanging with my Mom, in the chair, in the bed, just wherever she is at. My sis Spice freaked out my big sissy Jo today, simply because, we were all over Momma today, we both loved on her, and sat with her, and slept by her side.
We love our Momma, and know she has some problems, but we are here with her and it is all “purrfect”. We like “The Big house” but we love Momma even more….
Sometimes, when you have dealt with something for so long, the days just melt into each other. Some days are good, some days are bad, and some days just stand out. Sometimes, you just get up and deal with the day, as normal. But sometimes days are not normal, they are unique. I don’t know everything, trust me here. I am basically flying by the seat of my pants.
While today started out normal, it changed into a unique day for me. Not much was out of the normal scope, but I have learned to adapt. I’ve learned to look for the little things, and find something special about every day.
I am Blessed by the amount of friends that I have and the amount of support I have. When I look at my situation, I have come to the conclusion, I can either wallow in self-pity, or I can look at everything with different eyes, and learn to cherish things.
My Momma is Stage 5 Parkinson’s and it ain’t pretty in any way shape or form. I’m learning that sometimes, the best times are the worst. Don’t get me wrong here. I’m not promoting bad times, I’m simply saying that this is a debilitating disease, but I have learned strength, and grace. I have learned this through my Momma, who has shown, while this disease is robbing her of some of life’s most important things, she has shown me Grace in accepting them. She has shown me strength by trying with everything she is to over come them and still find a moment to giggle at circumstance.
God gave Momma to me, and I’m still trying to figure it out, but I would not ever turn my back on this journey. She is teaching me so much, and I am teaching her at the same time. She has learned my voice, (after 32 years, you would think we both would figure out, God gave us to each other for a reason). She gets upset at so much these days, and between Dad and I, she calms down.
When I get her up and bath her and then Dad comes in, her face lights up when he says ‘Hi”. then the conversation turns to the 3 of us. My heart is Blessed so much and there are times I could just lose it, simply for the love in the room.
This is by far the hardest thing I have ever done, but to know that I have God on my side, and also, the support of all of my family and friends makes it bearable. When God wants to bring Momma home, so be it. I can only hope her days on earth have brought her happiness and comfort.
For me? My journey still continues….there is so much I thought I knew, that I didn’t. I’m still learning. The lesson’s still continue, and I have an open mind and heart.
Sometimes, the hardest lessons hurt the most…..
Today was not my normal day to go over to the Farmer’s to help with Momma, but Caregiver Beth had something she had to do, so, I did it. I did the normal Saturday stuff at my house and then went on down the road. When I got there, I did some of the stuff I normally do, and then went into the kitchen to make the Farmer lunch. I noticed something right off the bat, and went into the front room to question the Farmer.
Now, I have to back track a little. A few weeks (ok so it maybe a month or so) ago, I “borrowed” the Farmer’s Kitchen aide mixer .
I kinda fell in love with it, simply because I make cookies every week, sometimes twice a week (batch for the Electrician and 1/2 a batch for the Farmer and 1/2 a batch for Caregiver Beth). Plus, I’ve made some cakes and bread too.
The Farmer asked me last week, if I would please bring back his mixer, and his mixer wrote the Farmer a note, it said ” Dear Dad, Please don’t worry about me, I am getting exercise, and I have a prestigious position on my sissy’s counter, I am enjoying my time here, and sissy says she will bring me back home soon. Love, Your mixer”.
I seriously had good intentions to bring the mixer home this week. But when I noticed everything re-arranged in the kitchen, I asked the Farmer what gives? He told me he had a surprise and I would have to wait until Monday to find out what it is. Pfft…..SERIOUSLY????
I quickly informed him, I would bug the $hit out of him until he told me what it was, and I did too. Amid a bunch of giggles, he finally gave in and told me, the mixer could stay at my house. WOOHOO, double back flips. Apparently, the mixer had expressed it’s desire to stay at my house, and The Farmer, complied. Although I will not tell the mixer, it’s been replaced, by a “newer” version. I don’t want to hurt its feelings.
In all honesty, Thanks Dad! from the bottom of my heart. I’ve grown quite attached to the “mixer” and I really did not want to bring it home. It’s found a new home on my counter. I’m sure, your new mixer will find its new home a happy one, and I will use it and so will you.
Momma today was surprised to see me, although I had told her yesterday, I would be there to get her up. She rallied and was full of giggles when I finally got her cleaned up and ready for the day. It was fun for me to see her on a day I normally would not.
I did have to laugh, when I was getting ready to give her a round of meds and she was “reading” the paper. I asked her about the story she was so intensely reading. She told me about it, funny though, the paper was upside down. Hmmm, I had already read the paper, and she was correct in her telling of the story. Can people read things upside down? I don’t know for sure if they can, but Momma did.
All in all it’s been a good day for me, and I’m so thankful for those. Sometimes, its little things that our parents do for us, and we do for them, that are the best.
Love ya Daddy, and Momma too. Just so the rest of my family does not feel left out, I love y’all with all that I am, and then some……
Have you ever had just one friend in your life, who is your go-to person? Someone who has known you the longest? As a military “brat”, who transformed into an Overseas “brat”, I made friends, but left them behind each time we moved. We moved a bunch too, until we arrived in England.
In the first 18 years of my life, I believe I lived in England the longest. If y’all follow my blog, then you know I went to a boarding school. To an only child it’s like having about 100 brothers and sisters, who have never left me.
I’ve been dealing with some personal stuff lately, with one of my kids. It has been a Mother’s nightmare. Just because a child grows up, and is 30 years old, when they come to be on a “suicide watch“, it is a very scary thing. This is not the first time with this son. Hopefully it will be last time. It is a very heartbreaking situation, and I am praying so gratefully for the outcome.
My son’s father committed suicide, and when my son gets overwhelmed, or in general just feels he has done so much wrong, and cannot be forgiven, and so far down in that pit of deep despair, he feels this is his only answer.
I have clawed, prayed and fought for him. He deserves it, and he is very loveable. But sometimes he makes very bad decisions. He knows right from wrong, and he is not a bad kid. Kind of like that saying ‘When I am bad, I’m bad, but when I am good, I am great. Good kid, wrong crowd, and BAM, trouble. (Uhm, bear with me I do have a point, but I am working my way to it ok?).
I have been on a roller coaster all weekend, this past weekend being Father’s Day, and stuff, and it hit my kid hard. I kind of felt guilty in a way that I was having so much fun, while he was in such despair.
I posted on Facebook to everyone I knew, to please pray for him. I started prayer chains all over the place. Friends of mine, started prayer chains for him to. People who did not even know him, prayed for him.
I breathed a sigh of relief today, after a pretty heartbreaking discussion ( might I just say, my kid is not in the same State as I, and is also in jail and our only contact is phone and letters), My son was crying and hung up on me. He was not happy with what I said. About five minutes later, he called again, and it was as if a light switch had went off in his head, and he told me “I get it Mom. I love you and Thank you for never giving up on me, I won’t be selfish anymore, I’ve made mistakes, and I get what you’re saying. Just please, do not ever give up on me, I’m ok now, I’ve got a lot to think about, especially what you have said. I would never hurt you for the world after all you have done for me, and I was not thinking about how what I would do, would affect you. You are right, there is more to this life than what I’ve done, and I am on the way up. After all, I’m in the bottom now, and like you said I can only go up from here. Thank you Mom. I Love you, ”
After typing this, it brings tears to my eyes, simply because I was fighting with all I am, for him. Now mind you, while I had this conversation with him, I was giving Momma a bath and washing her hair, and doing what I normally do. I finished up getting Momma up and doing all the stuff I do, and headed home.
When I walked in the door, the first thing I do is check my phone. I had 3 missed calls and 2 voice mails. After by-passing the missed calls I went to the voice mails. I started laughing, belly laughing at one of my voice mails. I couldn’t help it.
One of my “former” room-mates from about 35 years ago, had left me a voice mail, that I had to laugh over. I dialed up her number and spent the next (cough) (okay, I’m busting myself out) 1 1/2 hours on the phone with. Her and I giggled, talked about life, both of our stuff, and also the reality of our situations..
She told me, that whenever she reads something on Facebook that I put out there, I am real. (Well duh, it’s life and I’m dealin), but other’s put stuff out there to make them look perfect. We discussed a bunch of stuff and have figured out that no one is perfect, but we are ready to accept and deal with what we have.
I truly spent an enjoyable time this afternoon, and the Electrician was laughing at me, because when he arrived home (I was talking on the phone baking cookies and not really paying attention to anything but my phone call), he walked in and said ‘Uhm Hello?” When I came around the corner he asked me if I knew the Air conditioning was on and the house was opened wide up. Oops….Thanks P…..
I give serious Thanks to those peeps, and ALL of you, that have helped me make it through this weekend, with my son. But I have to give a special shout out to my girl “P”. Who knows me better than most, she knew when I was ready to talk, and talk we did.
To my friend P….HOLLA….girl I love you…To the Farmer…Thank YOU for all you have done, and once again…uhm…we got a phone bill. To the Electrician, just a quick HOLLA….you know what I mean. To my son, who will not read this until about 4 years from now, Your Momma loves you with all of her heart, and I hope and pray, it will be okay….