Untethered....

Loose strings...Don't pull, cut them!  That's the rule.  If one pulls a loose thread, the edge of whatever the thread is attached to will unravel. Then what?  The edge may slowly, or quickly, fray.  

On the other hand, when given a helium-filled balloon, one holds tightly to the string.  Sometimes, the string is circled around, and around something, before being tied securely, and anchored down.  Time and again, strings for balloons work their way lose.  They either aren't secured properly, or they slip through fingers, whose owner was sure they had a tight grip.  Once untethered, helium-filled balloons drift, higher and higher.  It is believed they reach a certain height and then explode, shattering into many tiny shards, before returning to Earth.  

Lately, I have felt untethered.  When my marriage ended, I was left with most of the responsibilities we had shared together.  A major part included the family pets.  One was a diabetic and needed shots twice a day.  Never mind the cost of her medicine and needles, she required a lot of time management. I was tied to her by time constraints.  The other responsibility was the family dog who was 14-years old.  The typical lifespan of his breed is 10-12 years, which makes me realize he had a purpose for coming into our family. Dogs can't be left for days without human interaction.  He needed companionship, food, fresh water, and walking.  So did I.  I was tied to being home for him each night. New, to the full-time work force, and as a first year teacher, I couldn't spend as many long hours as I would have liked working in my classroom.  I'm sure that was a blessing in disguise. The end of my family pet responsibilities happened when both had their lives come to an end, within three months of one another.  The emotional fallout from their loss is still with me. It's only been a few months.  Sitting near Lily as she took her last breath in September has seared a spot in my brain, and on my heart.  I had no partner to be by my side.  For better or worse... I had to do that night alone.  I am capable.  I can do alone, and I did.  In early December, Winston started having troubles.  He was a large dog, and Lily's passing was so fresh in my brain...I knew I couldn't handle him dying at home.  Again, I had no partner to help make that decision.  I had to do that night alone too.  I am capable.  I can do alone, and I did, again.  But something broke in me that night.  The ties to my past life were suddenly gone.  I was set free.  I am untethered.  I am drifting.  I wonder if balloons can look down and see the beauty beneath them? Actually, I wonder if there is beauty below?  I search the Internet, I see pictures from satellites of planet Earth...Is that beauty an illusion?   I am not seeing the beauty yet beneath my untethered self. 

When a person is married, there are constraints.  Expectations.  Roles to be filled.  Different people perform different roles.  As I grew up, I believed the roles to be more defined.  Nowadays, the roles are neither defined nor are they gender specific.  I believe marriages today need to be more like partnerships. I don't believe my ex and I were very good examples of a true partnership. There was give, and there was take.  But there was not real give-and-take. Narcissists are incapable of giving without taking.  I look at my adult children and know they will find someone to share their lives.  They will likely grow with that person. At least that is my hope. I hope they form wonderful partnerships. I know, that won't happen for me at this stage. I think at my age, I'm not sure I can grow with anyone. I am fairly well defined as a person. I am more than capable.  I can do alone. I am responsible. I can take care of myself. I can pay my mortgage and bills. I can cook for one, although I have experience cooking for many.  I can manage my yard. I can work full time. I can go wherever I want: traveling, the movies... whenever I want... and I can do it by myself. I don't need to be taken care of.  I can solve my own problems, although I am grateful that I have friends I can call when I need.  Calling on others for help is not something I am used to doing.  For 27 years, when I showed weakness...and needing help was weakness...I was made to feel there was something pathetic about me.  So, my being able to ask for help...that's a big deal.  

Untethered.  Will I drift higher and higher until I shatter into a million little pieces?  What will happen after that?  Is this the time when I need to embrace myself for whom I am?  Learn to love myself?  Give myself a break?  Oh, my heart is so broken.  Maybe it's all ready shattered.  I want to be brave and let someone else in to help me piece my heart back together. I need someone who is farther along on this journey.  I need someone to enter my life who has what I have, but maybe he has even more.  I need someone who has more to give; someone who enjoys the things I enjoy, and can offer me new experiences. I need that person to not only help me see the beauty, but want to experience that beauty with me by his side. Yes, I want to be swept off my feet. I want to be romanced. I want to be wowed, and wooed. I am drifting. I am not ready to shatter.  I've done old married couple, and I don't want to repeat my past. I'm not saying I don't ever want to be married again. I just know I need more now.  Looking back, I feel I let myself be made to play a certain role in my marriage, I was being put into a well-defined box.  I no longer see myself as fitting into any box.  As Laura Petrie found out when she opened a box delivered to her house, once out, it's hard to stuff something back into a container that is so confining.  (view video from 20:35, for fun.  From: The Curious Thing about Women episode of The Dick Van Dyke Show. Air date: January 10, 1962) 

If asked, my defense mechanism is to say that I've had my chance at love. My heart doesn't really believe that, but I am so scared of being hurt again.  Maybe, I'm just not healed enough yet. Time...please work your magic. I do feel very untethered right now, in this place and in this time.  

~Lisa Kroll

        untethered, wanderer, animal and nature loving, romantic, adventure seeking soul, who cannot be contained...still eating, praying and loving, but working on loving me these days as I continue to find my voice. 

lily

letting go

tonight

i sat

and stroked the head of our old, diabetic cat

i knew

her end was near

i cried

alone

i prayed

alone

i ran interference for my daughter
she didn't need to see this

so i did it

alone

the heavens above

released with me

phone calls made

daughter is in shock, but on her way over

she needs to say goodbye too

what do my daughter and i have to share now?

another tethering cord has been cut

i am numb

i can only listen to the rain

ten years

twice a day insulin shots

no more

lily is finally at rest

Memorializing thoughts on Memorial Day

Last night I rode in a van for an hour with my in-laws.  We went up to Indy to have a celebration dinner for my MIL's 83rd birthday.  

The evening was beautiful.  We ate dinner outside and on the water front as the sun was setting.  

Our ride home was full of interesting conversation.  As my in-laws friends age and pass away normal taboo topics rise into our discussion.  My FIL will be 85 in October.  Both my in-laws are in good health.  My MIL is very aware of having her final wishes in her life being honored.  The conversations we had last night are normal ones WE'VE had before.  The WE'VE is my husband, myself and his mom and dad.  My children are usually within earshot, but never seem to add their comments and last night had their iPods on their heads.  When the time comes, and being one who certainly understands that the time will come, I too realize that the honor of carrying out my MIL and FIL's wishes will heavily fall onto my husband and myself.  My husband's brothers will not be excluded, it's just that living next door and riding to and from places and having the opportunities to have these conversations happens to us more than to them (the brothers).  

Last night we chatted about gravestones.  

I don't find it offensive or surprising to have these conversations.  Instead I find it fascinating and enlightening.  My MIL would like to have a big ornate, obelisk type stone at the head of her grave.  My FIL would like to be cremated.  Cremation brings another thought, conversation and potential posting...what to do with those ashes.  

I only faintly recall, from my childhood, my own mother and grandmother heading to the cemeteries on the weekend on Memorial Day to lay flowers and check on the deceased members of the "family."  I more vividly recall those two ladies going to the cemeteries after both my father and grandfather died.  These memories are of a sad event, full of self-pity and tears.  

Living about four hours away from my parents and grandparents grave site does not give me the opportunity to stop in as often as I should, as my Grams and Mom would have done.  On the times I have been, I find that tears can't help but seep from my eyes.  I never get that 'I'll feel good that I went later' feeling that one may get either.   

Grave sites.  Places to memorialize lives lost.  But not the only places to memorialize lives lost.   

I do not limit my memories of my parents to just the cemetery.   I don't want my children to limit there memories of me, when that time comes.    

Still dealing...

I realize I am still dealing with my mom's death, almost 2 1/2 years later.  

I was listening to my favorite Public Radio Station late on Monday afternoon.  I heard a comment about their weekly piece called This I Believe.  It caught my attention because I recall hearing the original piece back in early December of 2006.  It would have been just after my mom had passed away...and it touched my soul then.  

The piece was about the lady who authored that December 4, 2006 segment, Catherine Royce, she passed away on March 30, 2009.  Ms. Royce had been diagnosed with ALS and in her This I Believe she talked about the disease taking over her body and the active choices she could make.  Click here to listen to her 2006 comments: Catherine Royce, I Always Have a Choice

I felt a mix of emotions on Monday.  I do miss my parents more than I think I should.  I am an adult after all and have been on my own for many years, with my OWN family to boot.  I think I am jealous because living right next to my in-laws my husband can go over and see his parents whenever he wants; everyday.  After my husband came home from work that day, he went and saw his mom and dad for a few minutes.  It was in those few minutes that I heard the NPR piece.  As jealous as I am/was, I felt proud too; proud of my own mom.  I think she made some very good choices as her life ended, and I was honored to be able to have been with her for so much of the end.  Maybe we helped make those choices for her.  

Still, I cry...but life continues.  

Thank you NPR for connecting me to the rest of the world.  

Tagged!

I've been tagged!  So basically I am one of six people who are "it".  I am suppose to tag six "other" people who blog.  

My challenge is this:  One of the six I would have tagged passed away a year and a half ago.  He had the same BC that my mom had, but he was just a few years older than me.  I got to know him through that bond.  I was hoping he'd be one to beat the odds, one to find a clinical trial that would work.  He had daughters around my own children's ages.  Tough stuff.  

Another blogger I would have tagged was known as deathmaiden

She was a renegade nurse who wrote about life and death.  Morbid, but fascinating.  She stopped blogging over a year ago.  

Two of the people, I all ready have linked on here, are under 18 and I just can't bring myself to encourage them to bare random facts about themselves on the Internet.  With that stated, I hope Stella and Tigerluv WILL NOT do this!  

The other people I would link to, have all ready been tagged.  :)   Almost everyone else who reads my blog is too chicken to pen their own, let alone leave comments on mine!  ...except for my sister, who has a blog, reads mine but doesn't comment.  So, I'll tag her.  She has lots of cute pictures of my nephew on her site, but she doesn't update things often enough.  She has barely anything on there of her daughter, my little, cutie-pie niece and her house pictures have snow in the shots!  Did I mention she owns a photography studio as her business!?  

So here are the rules:  

1.  Link to the person who tagged you. 

2. Post these six rules on your blog.

3. Write 6 random things about yourself.

4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them.

5. Let each person you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog.

6. Let the tagger know when your entry is posted.  

(At least) Six random things about me

a.  I wanted to be an astronaut when I grew up, that didn't happen but, I got a cool telescope for Christmas last year!  

b.  Classical music is my favorite, especially piano and violin, I LOVE Joshua Bell and listen to Public Radio all day long.   

c.  I also love hard rock!  My favorite singer is Sammy Hagar and I am still sad he's not with Van Halen anymore.  I'm glad I have a retro-son who loves 70's & 80's rock!  

d.  I secretly would love to find a stray puppy with my daughter, the zoo keeper!  

e.  I believe in spirits, fairies, elves, etc. 

f.  I held my mom and step dad's hands when they died...five weeks apart and it will probably always affect me in all I do.  My dad died when I was 21 and I try to always live like today may be it.  Life is way too short.  

g.  Who's counting...I NEED MORE FRIENDS!  

If you'd like me to tag you, please leave a comment.  

People I am tagging:  

1.  Bean

2.  your name here

3.  your name here

4.  your name here

5.  your name here

6.  your name here

Who tagged me:  

Esmerelda...check out her Amy's Community Column link.  She's an awesome writer and a sweet friend!  

 ~Lisa  :)

No news...

No news is just no news when you are waiting to hear what is happening to a loved one in the hospital. You wish you could make time speed up, but then again, you think maybe I don't want time to speed up. And the worst part is not being able to do a darn thing except wait.

Patience...I wish I had more, or better handle on my lack of.

I wonder if those closest to the situation really know how much I care or how upset/worried I am. Do they know how much I want to be there to lend support but don't want to over step my bounds or step on their toes? Do they know how much I wish they'd call me several times a day with an update, yet I fear my ringing phone. Do they know how much I feel I need to be strong but don't think I can face death so up close and personal yet? I know I am still dealing with my emotions from last October and November. I really do wish that all the people I know or will come to know never had to die. Wouldn't that make things easier? But life is not easy and it's certainly not fair. We build relationships only to have them succumb to the reality of life and this world. And, I know that those closest to the situation really have no control of things either. They are just closer to the situation and probably feeling just like me.

I need to get out and walk. I will play my music loud and try not to think about my waiting to hear any news. No news also builds patience, I think.

Paranormal Activity, Spirits visit us and What time is dinner in Heaven?

On November 10th, my mom suffered a very long seizure in relationship to her brain cancer. It started at about 4 pm and lasted until about 6pm. She was given valium to try to help relax her. Our hired helper, Follie, had instructions from Hospice. My sister showed up shortly after the seizure started, she was there with her father-in-law for the evening. He's from VA and wanted to visit with mom.

Mom wouldn't look at Bean and she wouldn't talk, or couldn't. Hard to tell. I was on the phone with Bean a lot of the time offering my opinions about things. Mom had told both of us that she wanted to stay at home, not go back to the hospital. We were hoping the valium would work that was in the "care kit" from hospice. If we ran out and she wasn't responding we'd have to send mom to the Hospice House for as bit so they could help manage this situation.

fortunately the at-home meds worked. Bean went home for the night and I made plans to come the next day.

I arrived Saturday, Nov. 11, late morning. Mom was still having lots of small seizures on her right side. I didn't realize what they were at first. It took a visit from the hospice nurse to enlighten me. She called them baby seizures. Mom had not eaten or drank anything since Friday morning. She couldn't swallow her pills. We needed to start giving her her anti-seizure meds via rectum. Not fun, glad we hired Follie so we could let her "do the dirty work".

Mom was fairly unresponsive on Sat. & Sun. I didn't even think she knew I was there. It was so hard to tell. I held her hand a lot, stroked her cheek and told her I loved her again and again. My Aunt Pam arrived from Virginia on Sunday early afternoon. Bean was able to come back on Sunday evening. Mom seemed to "wake up" once Eileen arrived. She started to try to talk a little. We all got very excited. We called all mom's brothers and put the phone to her ear so they could talk to her. Then we called our brother and had him talk to mom too. I had called him several hours earlier and asked him if he was sure he didn't want to be with us. He assured me he couldn't go through this again. He said he was fine staying away. When we called him to have him talk to mom I confessed to my Aunt and sister that I had all ready called Larry and asked if he didn't want to come. I also told them his answer. My Aunt got on the phone, told Larry she didn't think mom would make it through the night and he needed to get there. He arrived at 1am.

Shortly after he arrived the power went out at the house. It was out for two hours. That wasn't so bad except that mom was on a microfiber air mattress bed. It deflated quickly. We checked on her every 15 minutes. She slept through it all. Just before the power came back on we tried to go back to sleep. I was sleeping in the recliner by mom, AP was on the floor on cushions and Grams was on the couch. Larry was on a couch in another room and Bean was in the back bed, as was Follie - in her own room and bed. AP and I head someone talking just before the power came back on . I told her I thought it was Grams talking in her sleep and she was saying "I love you". The next day AP told me that's not what she heard. She heard, "I am the holy spirit."

Mom did make it through the night. She also made it through another 10 days. She went 12 days total without food or water. It was very hard to watch her waste away. My brother did not stay past Tuesday of that week. He could not handle it. My Aunt and I were there for the whole time. We needed to be there for Grandma. Bean was back and forth, she did have to work a bit.

During the next 10 days many unexplained things did happen. Mom told us on that first Sun, Nov. 12, that she saw my dad and Art but not Grandpa, her dad. She told us it wasn't time for her to go yet. We thought she left us on two or three occasions. She told us, Bean, Larry and me that we scared her all being together. Previously she had said that she knew Larry would only come visit her if she was dying. Bean and I blamed her fear on him! He deserved the blame, he couldn't mentally come and be with her like we could. We understood, but it still made us mad and sad. Bean and I were fine with Larry leaving. During the next days we tried rotating who was at home. We'd announce who was going out, who was staying, when "the coast was clear". We all knew mom was dying and felt she was waiting for something. Did certain people need to be there or away? We kept telling her we loved her and it was all right if she needed to go. We wanted her to be at peace. We told her she was a great mom, friend, daughter, etc. We told her we'd miss her, but we'd always have her in our hearts. We tried toasting mom, we told fun stories from her past and talked about what she had accomplished in her life. We did make funeral plans. We planned the church service, picked out flowers, worked on her obit and picked out her outfit. Morbid? Probably. Necessary? Absolutely. The "we" who toasted and laughed with mom were Bean, AP(mom's sister), Aunt Tammy(mom's sister-in-law) Grams, Follie, Carol (Dad's cousin), Colleen (Carol's daughter) and Angie (long time neighbor and friend). There was a lot of female bonding that happened. We laughed and cried together. We drank wine, mud slides and ate ice cream together. We all hugged on mom A LOT! In fact one of the hospice nurses told us that maybe we were being too encouraging to mom. She politely told us we stimulating mom too much. After day 10 we 'low-keyed' things more. The lights were turned lower and we were much more quiet. We tried not to touch mom when she was sleeping. Letting go is very hard for the living and the dying.

More paranormal things happened...

One night the TV turned on and off by itself. It was the night we were toasting mom. Grams turned to me and asked why I turned on the TV. I pointed out that the remote was about four feet away from me, and everyone else for that matter, and that I didn't turn on the TV. I did pick up the remote and turn towards the TV only to have it go off BY ITSELF! We all looked at each other and said, "Art is here!" It was creepy, but good at the same time. When I was sleeping I felt someone pull on my upper arm three times. It was like they were trying to get me up. No one was around me. All in the house were asleep. AP and I heard three voices whispering by mom one night...Not just one single voice. We were sleeping just 10 feet away! I could feel the hairs o my arms raising up a lot. It was actually a very comforting feeling. At my mom's house, which is just two miles from Grams, the TV in Art's former bedroom kept going on and off my itself when Bean and I would be over there. We'd just start talking out loud to Art. We'd keep telling him that he needed to come and get mom. We were going to be okay.

On Sunday morning, November 19th, mom woke up at about 10:30 and she seemed very alert and clear. She was counting, "50, 51, 52, 52, 52, 53, 54, 55, 55, 55, 56, 57. 57." I asked her 57 what? She looked at me and said, "57 people." She had only been barely answering our questions lately. She hadn't started any conversations in weeks. Just eight weeks ago or so I was at physical therapy with her and she couldn't count to 5. I asked her where the 57 people were and she said, "Here. 57 people are here." I asked her if they were people or angels? She looked puzzled and didn't answer me. I asked her if I would know them. She told me, "I don't think so." I asked her if my dad, her first husband was here? She looked around and smiled and said, "yes, he's here." I did get excited and said, "mom, I know dad!" I asked if Art was there and my Grandpa, her second husband and dad. Again she looked around and said yes. I told her that grandma would be pleased that Grandpa finally showed up. Truthfully, I was thinking he'd been down in hell, he was that sort of guy! I also asked mom if she was waiting for Grandma to go to heaven (emotionally this has all been really hard on Grams). Mom looked at me and said, "No, It's not her time." I asked her if it was her time and she said, "Almost". My cousin's wife was there and she said, "Aunt Penny, will you tell my mom and brother I said hi?" And my mom looked at her and said, "I will tell them at dinner."

On September 27th, my sister and her husband celebrated their third wedding anniversary apart. Bean was with mom when she got the sad news that her cancer was back.

On November 22nd, I was with my mom celebrating my own wedding anniversary. Twenty years. The night before I called my husband and I told him I really needed him and the kids to come north. After school on Wednesday he loaded up our 12 and 14 year old and they were on their way to see me. I had been away from them for two and a half weeks. I thought I was only going to be gone for one night.

My mom passed away with my sister and I holding her hand and telling her we loved her. We reassured her it was okay to go. We would never forget her. We kissed her cheeks and cried. Follie was with us too. Nearby were Grams, mom's sister Pam, brother Mike, his wife, Theresa, Bean's husband was there putting their son down for the night. My husband and children arrived just five minutes later. Perfect timing? I think so. On Tuesday, November 7th I had brought my kids north to spend the day with my mom. She had only been staying awake for 15 minutes at a time. When she knew my kids were there she stayed awake for over three hours. We had a great day and visit. On the way home my daughter thanked me for driving them up. I am glad my kids got a chance to see mom's bright eyes on that Tuesday. They could feel her love for them in her look.

It's been two an a half weeks since mom has been gone. I seem okay during the days. At night when I try to go to sleep I cry. I do miss her. I just can't believe that she and Art are both gone. He was only 58, and she 64.

Life is interesting how quickly it can change. I missed my dad a lot too. He's been gone for 21 years now. I feel that I did get to 'feel' his presence in the past month. I also know he and mom will see me again in heaven someday, a long time from now! I know mom is at peace and enjoying herself with dad and Art. Who could ask for anything more?

West Nile victim...Unbelievable...

Last Friday my sister received a phone call from the hospital Art was in...They wanted to put him back on a ventilator. My sister said no. She's just the messenger. On the Wednesday before that I was with my mom in the hospital (different hospital - for her) and we talked about how bad Art was. Carol was with us. Carol and I were talking and mom was withdrawn again. She heard us talking and wanted to know what we were talking about. We told her how bad Art was and asked her what she thought we should do for him. It was her wish to NOT have him surviving on machines. So, when my sister got the phone call...She was just the messenger.

By Friday evening Art was not doing very well. My sister (and a third cousin) were the only ones who could be with our Step-dad. By Saturday morning my brother arrived and then me that night. The plan was that on Friday all the meds, etc. Would be stopped for Art. He would be given morphine for his comfort. Once his breathing was down to a certain rate the O2 he was receiving would be stopped and he would be allowed to let his body give in to the disease.

Saturday was spent waiting for his breathing to get to that lower level. The nursing staff had a shift change at 7 pm. Our new nurse didn't like our decision and she had the attitude of "not on my shift". She did everything in her power to disobey our wishes. She gave our step-dad Tylenol for his fever when we stepped out of his room so he could be changed. She told us it was not right for us to "Let his brain fry." We asked her if she understood our whole situation. She said she did know about our mom. She tried to single out our sister, have her leave the room so she could privately talk to her, Eileen wouldn't go. She did not give our step-dad his morphine at the right times. He did seem to be suffering...Not our intent. She kept saying she wasn't clear on what the orders were and the topper was that in the middle of the night she called the doctor at home to have him clarify (1:30 in the morning). We weren't with her when she called the doctor, so we don't know what she said. She did come back and say the doctor said our step-dad should remain on the O2 through the night.

No sleep, frayed nerves and her attitude made us all feel between a rock and a hard place. We started counting down the hours until the shift change and hoping she wasn't doing a double shift.

Our nurse from the day before came back. She wasn't suppose to be with us, but after she checked on us, she decided to be with us. She wasn't in a good mood when she realized what had transpired. Did I mention, she has had four years of Hospice background? She was an angel.

On Sunday, we were back to waiting for Art's breathing to reach a lowered rate. By 2 in the afternoon we were at that point. He was allowed to breath on his own - without O2, that was the last artificial means still hooked up to him keeping him alive. (He was on a feeding tube, but that was not keeping him alive.) About three hours later Art peacefully passed. We were with him, holding his hands and talking to him. I am sorry our mom couldn't be with him, but I am glad we could be there for him and each other.

58 years old. West Nile. Not a good thing. He was unresponsive for five weeks. He had a fever of 104 (down to 101-ish with meds.) for five weeks. Trach, feeding tube, catheter, bowel bag. Swelling of his body - his hand and arms looked like they would burst for the retention of fluids.

We buried him yesterday.

Unbelievable. Last April I never would have believed you if you told me what we were going to go through this year. I would have laughed and said, "yeah, right". When mom was diagnosed with her brain cancer I would have thought we'd be heading to the cemetery for her, not Art next.

I am glad he is a peace and I wish no one else ever had to go through this. But, for those who do have to go through this, may they be blessed with an angel nurse like our Paula.