Clematis

I think that at this point the attorney doesn't really have a lot to do since the medical treatment is still ongoing. When I last spoke to him he said to just keep doing what the providers told me to and keep tracking symptoms and also the costs of the injury, whether quantitative or not. I have three separate spreadsheets that I am using to track all this - one for symptoms-every day or sometimes a few similar days, one for things that cost me $$, and non-quantifiable suffering and impacts of the injuries. The attorney covering for mine hasn't done much but I think there's not much to do at this point. Anyway my guy will be back soon, and that will be good. Both attorneys were impressed with my organized spreadsheets - like they wished everyone would hand them a pile of data like that. The headaches that persist - well I would like to have more of an answer on that. The person who handles these kinds of cases has a waiting list and it's taking her about four months to get to people. Seems likely to be in October... I'll call my dr this afternoon. This morning I was working - being a school psychologist - gotta take care of business, even if I am doing it at home.

Thanks Kay! My doctor is not really involved in any of this and I think he's not really sure what to do. Doctors don't really know what to make of soft-tissue injuries, and he's not a neurologist or anything like that. Still, I could try asking him. I could email him my big spreadsheet list of symptoms and see is he has any other ideas. Medical massage? I don't know... My attorney has been in DC since the beginning of July on a special assignment. He was never particularly directive about medical stuff - just told me to do what I need to do to get better. The one who has been the most active and involved has been the chiropractor. I'll ask him what he thinks, and maybe my doctor has other ideas he could offer. I have been assuming all along that it would get better, but yesterday it occurred to me, what if it doesn't? I'll ask the chiro tomorrow and email my doctor today - or call his nurse - or both! Thanks again...

Thank you Marita - that was a lovely - and funny - message. Sounds like you were an interesting child, and a courageous one. I turned into a courageous adult, but it came over a lot of time and struggle. When I was a child and a young adult, I was afraid of everyone, and had trouble even speaking. I had a horrible stammer and didn't want to expose anything - information or the stammer, so I hardly spoke. I certainly got over that! I eventually realized that most other people were also apprehensive of the same situations I was. In the long run I think being so withdrawn for so many years hurt my social skills and left me with lingering worries that I was doing or saying the wrong thing. But then since I had become practically fearless I would openly ask someone, "Was that a terrible thing I said?" And the responses were almost always things like, "no, I wish I had said that", "no, she's impossible for everyone to get along with", and so on. I had somehow become the person who would say what everyone else was afraid to say. When I was in my MSW program in my late 30's I felt intimidated because my undergraduate degree was in Computer Information Systems, and every single other student had an undergrad in social work, early childhood studies, sociology, or something related to human beings. I felt like I knew nothing, but actually that was a plus, since most of my classmates were bored and I was excited - social work was SO much more interesting than finance, economics, computer programming...ughh! As it turns out I did have a lot of related experience, like my 7 years doing river trips in the Grand Canyon when I really focused on helping people overcome phobias of heights and water. In the depths of the Grand Canyon there is nothing but heights and water - either you are on a hike climbing, or on the water running enormous rapids. I just did it by reflex and hence learned who I was. In grad school I was intimidated, but not for long. I would ask questions I thought were really dumb, only to have my classmates thank me after class because everyone was lost but afraid to ask a question. When I did presentations in class, I never read note cards because I was too nervous to read them. I would prepare my topic really well, make beautiful splashy overheads with a lot of color, and ramble through the material as I went through the slides, tossing in stories impulsively as they came to mind. If I missed some prominent piece on an overhead and someone asked about it, I'd laugh and say, "Oh yeah..." explain it, and move on with whatever came to mind. Looking back I realize it was a totally ADHD "save", but I was totally prepared and the presentations were interesting because they were fresh and unrehearsed. My classmates thought I was bombproof because I didn't use notecards. I explained that I was terrified, but very well prepared. I'm not sure they believed me. When we were in groups, my classmates always wanted me to present as much of our work as possible. Me, the girl who had been unable to complete a sentence ten years earlier! It was such a relief from the stresses and pressures of adult midlife to have my dad at my side, totally supportive and proud of me and my accomplishments. He was totally behind me and everything I did and had done. He, like my cat Lena, trusted me to make the world safe for them and handle anything that came up. It was a fabulous decade that made me stronger, but who am I now? Certainly not the person I was ten years ago, but maybe no one is who they were ten years ago...

It is a sad thing to be an orphan, no matter how old you are. I am also an orphan... That is sad about your sister - that must have been hard for her, and for you as well. It seems like those old family things and early dynamics should lose their punch after some amount of time and just not have much impact, but it doesn't seem to actually work like that at all... It's weird how early family stuff comes up when people die in your family. I had not much of an idea of this when my dad died, but things can sure get to be a mess. Or the old mess is revealed. Again. Anyway, you have my thoughts and care...

Wow...mildew! That is terrible!!! I haven't seen that in so long I can't even remember it very well. I used to live in Tucson and had no drier. The first thing I did upon moving was install clotheslines in the back carport (there were two carports). In the summer I could do load after load of laundry, and hang up one set while the next one washed. By the time the next washer load was done the ones on the line were dry so I could fold them & hang up the next load. If it was raining, it took a little longer, but under the carport the clothes would still dry hanging under the shelter, even though it was pouring rain six feet away. Living in the desert has its downside for sure, but that was convenient. In Sedona I can't have a clothesline and so I hang everything to dry in the bathtub/shower except towels. Anyway, you guys definitely have my sympathy, having trouble drying clothes. That sounds dreadful...

Karen - are these people psychotic? I'm serious...everyone knows that grass in the PHX valley is an oxymoron, unless you are are talking about the greens on a golf course where people are pouring so much water on it that it's immoral to waste that much water when the rest of the state is fighting for little bits of water. I'm sure you know that geologically speaking AZ is like a bowl with the PHX area at the bottom, so all the water drains downhill into it. There have been battles about this for literally millennia - the water that flows down there and what they do with it. Personally, I think everyone who is willing should be GIVEN gravel and barrier cloth and whatever it takes to get rid of the grass permanently. They should also be given an award for being willing to save that much water. Of course I may have become a bit biased by living in the uphill parts of the state for 37 years. Anyway, I totally agree with you - what they are doing is not just ridiculous - but also reprehensible. You should be rewarded for allowing the grass to die. Only my opinion, of course...

Thanks, Kay - I really appreciate your thoughts. I think what you are talking about is key, and Marita said the same thing when she wrote, "Somewhere inside you is your father's love and the strength to work through the struggles." Sometimes I think I will be ok, and sometimes I'm not sure if I care or if it matters. Having a car accident four months after my dad died was really bad luck. I wonder sometimes if I am permanently stuck with a headache along with neck and back pain...it's been almost three months and I've had a headache for pretty much every day through all that. I have kept a log of my symptoms every day or couple of days all along and things overall have improved dramatically, but there has been no relenting of the headache. It really makes me wonder what will become of me or if it matters. Nevertheless, I get up every day and do my best. I drive carefully, have had very little alcohol in the past 7 months, and all that.

Thanks, Marita. You're right. nothing is any picnic. It seems like such a long time since I had a normal life when I did whatever I did...went to work where I was able to help other people, enjoyed the scenery, played music with friends, painted, spent time with my dad and my cat, talked to one of my sisters and all was good with her, went to the gym or the pool, went to bed, slept well and got up in the morning to have another interesting and inspiring day. Now, nothing seems normal, nothing feels good, and where I live doesn't feel like my home and it's not my dad's either. You're right - they are hard days and sometimes I'm not sure even why. I don't remember who I was or what was holding my life and myself together. I haven't just lost my dad - I've lost my self, and I'm not even sure how... How are you doing! And what does that mean, "the young fulla"? I wasn't exactly a tomboy since I wasn't athletic, but I sure was interested in everything my dad did!

Yeah, me too. I hope you're getting through it ok. Losing parents is so hard...even losing parents who weren't great parents...

My dad was my role model and my hero, which I didn't realize for many years. He taught me so much...how to write, change a tire, and so many practical things. But more than anything he taught me how to work hard and to fight my way in the world and to succeed in the face of adversity. One of his most frequent pieces of advice to me was, "You've got to look out for number one, because no one else will." Well, maybe sometimes they will, but you can't count on it. You have to be able to count on yourself. My older sister and I shared a room from when we were very small until my father graduated with his law degree and began working in his field. Another family might have given us our own room, but my father needed a room in which to study and this was a non-negotiable priority. The family's future depended on his academic success and his ability to launch himself professionally. He was in way over his head in his first job and his boss told him that if he couldn't do the job in six months, he'd be fired. He had to bring home work to do at night. He didn't think he could do it but couldn't give up. After the long haul of working full time and going to law school, he had a long hard grind of getting started in his career. I thought about him a lot when I was working full time, going to graduate school and taking care of a house singlehandedly. I learned so much from him and it was good for both of us to spend time together once I was well into my career. It made me feel good that he was proud of me and my professional success. I hope what I learned is enough to carry me through now. Sometimes I feel like I am the woman he raised me to be, and sometimes I fear the bottom has fallen out from under me. When I was younger in my career, I felt like he was like a guiding light for me, even thought he was far away and we were not close. Maybe he is still that guiding light and will help me through this year. I hope so...

I really miss my dad. He was my best friend and a great companion. I could always count on him to be in my corner and on my side. He was also my safety net, and having lost my job I certainly wish I had that now. I feel afraid about the future and what will become of me.

I wasn't with my dad at the very end. He was about an hour and a half away...I had seen him earlier in what turned out to be his last conversation with anybody and spoon fed him some brown sugar/maple yogurt he took a fancy to at the end. They called me to tell me he was going downhill but I wouldn't have had time to get there. Actually, I don't think he wanted me there and he just sort of slowly checked out after I left, and was non responsive the next time someone went in his room. Lena, my cat, woke me up by licking my face not long after he died. She has never done this before or since and I think he came to tell me he was gone. I woke up and called the hospital and they told me he was gone. I felt selfish for driving home and going to bed that last night. I was exhausted and I think that at some level he was waiting for me to leave. I didn't have a good feeling about things and I tried desperately to get one of my sisters on the phone. I finally had my dad leave her a message. She never picked up or returned my many calls. I asked one of the nurses to come look at him. I told her, "I know you can't know for sure, but can you just tell me if he looks like he might die tonight or anything?" She went in, talked to him a bit, noted that he seemed well oriented and said, "no, I think he's ok". But he was gone within 12 hours. The nurse had no idea but I think my dad knew. In our last conversation my dad told me his father was in the room with us, and added, "you are the one who told me he was here". He told my sister that we (he and I?) were going on a journey, and then said he was just kidding and he wasn't going anywhere. I suppose that the last details probably always seem really significant, like the last chord of a piece of music...

Thanks, Terri...I appreciate it. When my dad was alive, her nosiness was helpful for the most part because she would call me if he fell or if she hadn't seen him in a while, or something else seemed odd to her. Also, I used to call her when my dad didn't answer the phone and she'd go have a peek since he had no covering over the window next to his front door. I would thank her and she would tell me all about how he shouldn't be driving, should be in assisted living, that his house was a mess, etc., as if all that was news to me. I'd think, "Hello...I am a social worker and yes I have heard of assisted living and no, you are not able to determine his competency". I moved out of my dad's house (mostly) almost two weeks ago, but I am still going through things at his house. His garage and part of the house are full of boxes and other stuff I need to go through. Mimi was always sweet to my dad, but quick to criticize me and tell me what to do. For example, my dad had a security door on his house which was misaligned, so it's noisy when it closes. Mimi spends a lot of time on her computer in the next condo where she can hear the door closing. I never realized this, but she let me know within a few days of his death that it had been bothering her for ten years and she couldn't stand it any longer. I went straight to the hardware store and bought a file to remove some of the metal. That helped some, but the door is not right and still closes with a metal bang. (My similar door doesn't do this). Why didn't she talk to my dad about it? If she had told him right away, he probably could have gotten the installer to come back and fix it. Even in the subsequent ten years, had she talked to my dad about it, he would have and could have paid someone to fix it. Why wait until right after he was dead and lay it on me?

Marg, I really doubt that you are a mean person...although, like me, you may have a short fuse and become irritable easily. You have been through so much lately, it is staggering to even think about. Watching someone slowly disappear has got to be agonizing. My mother died over a five-month span and it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. I was across the country and could do nothing. I was in my last semester of grad school and kept offering to come to PA. I was the only person who really thought she might die, but there was nothing I could do. My family kept telling me "no, no, no - wait until you finish school". All I could do was talk to my sisters frequently and have long conversations with my father trying to help support him, as he obviously became rather drunk on the other end of the phone. It probably would have been worse to have been close by, and it still seems strange that I never saw her at the end. I feel for you Marg, I'm sure you really are going through hell. I think probably the best you can do is just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Nodding your head up and down sounds like a good strategy...

I think that's all true...the tone and what comes with it has a lot to do with how it comes across. I had feared being inundated by this cliche, but a lot of people in fact did say that to me and most of the time it was heartfelt and only the start of a genuinely supportive conversation. My actual experience with these conversations was much better than I had feared, and most of the people who said "I'm sorry for your loss" in a cold clipped tone were not people I knew well. They probably could have said anything in a cold clipped delivery and it would have come across the same. Expressions of true compassion come across as such, regardless of the words. And my dad's former neighbor Mimi, the problem is probably really not that she keeps telling me he's in a better place, he's out of pain now, at least we had all that time together, and all that other stuff. The real problem is deeper than her actual words, and that she will argue the merit of her opinions until I finally walk away from her. She is a nosy neighbor who thinks that she is and was an expert about my dad. She said a lot of things that really irritated me while he was alive. She barely knew him, but was eager to jump in and straighten me out on all kinds of things, based on her experience with her own dad. One day she told me that my dad was going to die very soon based on her experience with her own dad. I told her what his doctors were saying and she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes and continued about my dad and her dad. I finally said, "my dad and your dad are not the same person-if they were we would be sisters!" I walked away from her and ended up slamming my finger in the door. I had a little purple bruise on my fingernail for months. She told me the other day that he probably really missed my sisters. The ones who only called him when they needed money and told him they did not want him to move to their town, an hour away from where my parents had lived. He ended up living very close to the daughter who really cared about him and was interested in him. He told me once "I don't really know either of them (my sisters) at all", and I think that was probably true. He was a silent detached man while my mother was alive, but when she died he opened up and began to talk. I saw something in him I had never seen before and I was very eager to get to know him. It was really the best ten years of my life and I miss him horribly. I really don't need his nosy neighbor or anyone else to redefine him or our relationship for me. I wish Mimi did not get under my skin and bother me so much, but she does. I don't think I am handling this very well.

I loved this article, and it's so true! Sometimes I wonder what people are thinking when they say these things, and sometimes I think they are mostly trying to make themselves feel better by tossing out a cliche that hopefully will stymie the griever into silence. Sorry to be cynical, and I am sorry that a lot of these people are our friends and others whose support we value and need and so we can't just call a spade a spade. The other day, a neighbor had told me way too many times that my dad was in a "better place" and the last four times she said this were in one single conversation. I finally asked her if she had his address at his new place. Fortunately she laughed. What I hope for is something honest and real, but I fear that is more than many people are able to do. It is what I have always tried to do for others, even when I was young, to say something like, "Wow, that is terrible! How are you doing?" It opens the door for the griever to say whatever they want, even if it is to say they don't want to talk about it, and that is ok. Personally I feel like the biggest problem with all of the cliches tossed out to grievers is that the cliches shut the door and prevent further communication. One of my first fears after my father died was that I would be inundated with people saying, "I'm sorry for your loss". Now there's a "door-closer" of a cliche. I think you're not supposed to respond to this other than to say thank you. But when people said that to me, I said "Me too" and then followed that with whatever I felt like. Sometimes people tried again to close the door, but a lot of times they responded with something genuine from their hearts that was not a cliche and more like what I really needed.

I really appreciate the responses and understanding from all of you. I really don't want to alienate anyone - especially not Greg! He has been SO good to me through thick and thin for a long time, and so has his wife. I have a good friend who is a psychiatrist with a very kind and gentle way of being in the world, although she is tough underneath. She has a remarkable way about her. Anyway, I was whining to her on the phone about this today and her advice was to say, "I really don't want to talk about it" and she sighed as she said this as if the mere thought of talking about "it" was exhausting. I think the delivery is part of her suggested message. And she commented that it was really a step down from the other choices. I think she's right, because if I say that, it's all about me and not a commentary about the person or their nosiness. A neat little sidestep that also happens to be true - I do not want to talk about my dad's condo and what will happen with it. Unless, of course, the timing and the person is of my choosing (like talking to my attorney at the time to make a decision). Your recommendation was also good, Marty, and from the same spirit of not commenting on the nosiness and just commenting on my self and not being critical.

That's true. I think part of the problem is that I am tired of people telling me what to do and prying into things that are none of their business. I understand that people are curious and I certainly have asked a lot of people a lot of questions out of curiosity. But several times a day someone asks me what I plan to do with my father's house and anything I say is challenged and a lot of really bad advise shoved down my throat. My dodging and changing the subject in an attempt to be pleasant but not discuss this further are met with more pressured arguments that I do this or that. Sometimes I give them the numbers, which I resent because I shouldn't have to reveal personal information to get someone to stop badgering me. Even my friends do this; Greg, one of my best friends and one of the two who has helped me so much this summer told me emphatically the other day that I needed a personal financial consultant to help me with this and that I should avoid foreclosure at all costs. I told him that I have a financial advisor, an accountant, and an attorney who specializes in trusts/wills/estate planning who are helping me. He was not impressed and brought up renting and just selling it. I told him (again) that renting it would be a big hassle that would cost me five or six hundred dollars a month-and I have my sisters to consider-they don't want that. To sell it as a regular sale right now would require fixing it up and getting all of the rest of my dad's stuff into a storage unit (immediately and indefinitely) and that would cost quite a bit. On top of that I would have to bring at least $20,000 to $30,000 to the table to close it. Why would I toss all that money into the wind for no reason? It seems like everyone around me is an expert about everything and they figure I need to be told what to do. I understand that they are concerned and trying to be of assistance. I don't like it when people tell me, "That is not something I care do discuss with you" or "That is none of your business", but my other responses have not been very effective. I did get the property manager to back off some time ago...she was doing the same thing-- pressured real-estate advice, and when I demurred she pointed out that she was a realtor and knew what she was talking about. I replied, "Yes, I know you are a realtor, but you are not MY realtor." She hasn't said a word about it since. The neighbors and my friends and acquaintances are another story.

That is so nice! Thank you! And I think you're right...he was really proud of me, and more and more so as we became closer and he got to know me better. I think he would be saying, "That's my girl!" and wherever he is, he might be saying that...

I hate it when people say those things...what are they thinking they are saying? I think a lot of the time they are trying to make themselves feel better by saying something that seems like "the right thing" but isn't. I was just talking to my dad's former next-door neighbor. We were talking about my dad's big old boat that is now my big old boat. I think it makes her sad to see his old car, which was up at my place in my carport while I was living at his place from January thru July. For now, his old car is back at his house where it is out of my way aside from an occasional spin. I have a feeling she knows someone who would be really happy to be able to buy an older car in great condition with low mileage for a low price. Sorry, I'm not giving it up... In the middle of talking about his car she told me "he's in a better place now". My dad, not the car. She said it at least four times. I was trying hard to keep my mouth shut, but finally asked her if she had his address at his new place. Probably not the thing to say, but what is one supposed to say to these things? I'm sure my dad's former neighbor misses him and I am not a very good replacement. He was old and vulnerable and she was very sweet to him. I am significantly younger than she and yet I do not do what she tells me to do

I keep having these encounters with my father's former next-door neighbor that make me want to smack her. I get really tired of having people telling me what I should do, prying into things that aren't their business and so on. Several times a day people like my neighbor ask me "What are you going to do with your dad's place?" and then tell me what I should do without knowing any details. This neighbor complained to the property manager (anonymously) after complaining to me about my parking my dad's car in a visitor's spot while moving, which is totally within the rules. Then she told me that I really need to sell my dad's car, which she has told me repeatedly. I pointed out that lots of people have told me the same thing and most of them have had some interest in procuring the car for someone who needs an inexpensive car in great shape with low mileage. She looked embarrassed and dropped it. She is a nosy neighbor, which I don't appreciate, but was invaluable when my dad was alive and not doing well. Today she told me that "he is in a better place", and when I failed to look impressed and appreciative of this information, she repeated it about four more times with explanations of how I may not understand this but it is true. I finally asked her if she had his current address at this "better place". She looked startled and started making up a heavenly address. I told her that I'm not really sure exactly where he is, but that he talks to me every day, and has given me practical advice that is current and not a repetition of things he said when he was alive, like, "Make sure you pick up the fire extinguisher when you go down to the other place..." She was dubious about my report that he has been talking to me. Then I felt badly about being flippant and went on to thank her for being so kind in paying attention to my dad's comings and goings - or lack thereof - when he was alive. She used to call me when he had fallen outside, or if she hadn't seen any sign of him for a day or two. And if I couldn't reach him by phone I would call his neighbor and she would go look in the window next to his door and tell me she could see him sitting in his chair, and I would be greatly relieved. I told her that she had been an important part in his ability to live in his own house, which is absolutely true. I will always appreciate her doing what she did, but I wish she would stop telling me what to do and what it is.

I hope so-thanks for the encouragement, Kay! The financial aspect of this is a little worrisome. The other aspect of this is that I need to be really really careful with my money, as my dad has been telling me all along. Had I known this would happen, I might not have done some of the things I've done - painting and replacing the carpeting, microwave and fridge. But I budgeted these things from the get go, took advantage of significant bargains, and they all really needed to be done. Had I not done it as I did, it would have saved a few thousand dollars, but put me back into the same demoralizing dump where I was. Making the changes means living in a beautiful place where I can hope to focus on what I need to do and maybe feel ok about my life moving forward.

One hopes it will work that way. I feel mostly relieved about the reservation work - mostly because of the driving and the impact that those killer long days had on my health due to not enough sleep, eating too much junk, and and the overall stress. It's difficult being an outsider and being excluded and judged due to cultural and racial factors. Doing contract work is a mixed bag...it's generally good to not be a part of the office politics, and frequently one is blissfully unaware of things that don't matter anyway, but sometimes being on the outside is only that. Nevertheless, being white on a reservation can be a little uncomfortable. I was always relieved when I drove far enough away from the school that I was off the reservation and also clear of the other reservation that surrounded the one I worked on. It's a strange thing. For example, when I was involved in that car accident, it was a very good thing that the woman who caused the accident was also white, because had she been native the laws would have been different for her and me. Even though she was cited and I was not, she could have been seen as the victim due to tribal protection. Since we are both white, it falls under the normal laws with no squarely business. So about the open door, the one that closed was kind of a big door. I have some smaller doors that are open and if I can get a few more, I'll make it through the school year and can focus on next year. I just have to work at making connections and be open to different possibilities. And the truth is, I could get work as a School Psychologist, Social Worker, or Counselor/Psychotherapist. There is a lot of need for providers in rural areas. Last week, on moving day, I did a lot of walking back and forth from my house to my dad's and my own. The truck only had two seats and the walk is a shortcut. The truck was slow and going carefully with my precious furniture, and so I walked rather than riding, getting there at the same time as the truck. I actually got a blister on one of my feet. On one of these walks my phone rang and it was a woman asking me if I wanted to be on their panel of providers because they need some in my area. There is also another insurance company I am aware of that needs counselors in my area who will do home visits - which I do. This came up some time ago, but I was too busy to even do the paperwork, much less fit in the work. I need a little more work, not a full time job. hopefully I'll be able to find it...

I really appreciate that from you, Marty. I think you are right - I do have marketable skills, and the truth is that I have had a summer that has been exhausting at many levels between grieving my father, the stress with my sisters, and suffering the results of a concussion from the car accident while working very hard to consolidate my father's and my possessions into one house, which would have been a daunting task for anyone. Also, this was also right on the heels of working very hard immediately after his death. So I was exhausted in May at the time of the accident and now I am even even more exhausted. I am ready for a break. I have a tendency to push myself really hard for extended periods of time, but even I have limits... As this date of determination approached, I wasn't sure which I feared more - going back to all that driving at this point or facing a year of uncertainty. I have a friend who adamantly urged me to do my best straight off to try to get work near Phoenix, even if it meant commuting from Sedona to Phoenix every day. I asked her if there was a reason she wanted to see me dead in the near future (I am not a much of a highway driver). Long silence...

Thanks, Anne - I appreciate your thinking of me.