Clematis

Thank you! I just now stumbled across this post, and want you to know I appreciate it. I have been having an extra hard time lately. I am getting rid of almost all of my own furniture, and a lot of stuff at my dad's house and mine (especially at mine), so that I can have a place to hang onto a lot of his things-and hence him. I have been living at his house, which has made me feel closer to him. But when I move all of his furniture - and all of our stuff that is now at his house - over to my house, his house will no longer be his house, and the place I always went to be with him. I feel like I am about to go into free fall. A friend had an interesting comment, saying that my dad and I were both going to be moving back over to my place. I guess that's right!

Thanks, Kay! You're right-I have worked very hard, and I still feel afraid. The upcoming transition seems terrifying. It is if I was losing my own house and his at once, and the closer it is, the scarier it gets. And it is so close to the start of the school year! The painting will happen soon and then the carpeting, the rug is going to Flagstaff and will be back on July 26. I guess then I move on the 27th or so, and have a week and a half to get "settled in"-as if that were possible??? I think you're right-that I will probably feel at home once there...but it feels like I am about to fall into an abyss of uncertainty.

Hi Amber, I am so sorry to hear you have lost your mom and everything is so difficult. You really have a heavy load to bear. Just about this last little part of your post, I would encourage you to not feel pressure to fill your mom's shoes or be like her. She is tragically gone, and you are a different person than she. I totally understand where you are coming from on this, I think. My mother died 11 years ago and I coaxed my dad from PA to AZ to be with me. He missed my mother terribly and a lot of those things my mother did-like yours-there was no one to do. I wanted my dad to have nice holidays and I did my best, but it always seemed empty and hollow without my mother. My dad said a number of times of her that she was "the Christmas girl". I am not her and I had no ideas how to make things festive. I had been out here in AZ for almost 30 years alone just kind of staggering through most of the holidays by myself. I was so happy to have him here for holidays, my birthday, his birthday, Father's day and everything else, I really didn't care what we did, but I never stopped trying to make it good for him and I never stopped feeling like I was a failure at it. But I always asked him what he wanted to do for this or the other holiday and he never had any ideas. Maybe he was just happy to be with me-like I was to be with him. Our last holidays were really rather pathetic-his birthday I couldn't get him to go out to dinner at the last minute and got take out and some helium balloons. Thanksgiving we went out, but at the end of the meal he had such a bad choking incident (swallowing problems from Parkinson's). And Christmas was a nightmare-he was in pain, incontinent, and barely able to move about. I was panicking but still trying to have Christmas. I made a festive little breakfast that he could barely eat, sat him in his wheelchair in front of the tree and had to help him open his gifts. Several of mine were still unopened weeks later, and it took three months for me to take down the tree. Two of his gifts are still sitting over there in their boxes and the fourth of July has passed... All of these things are never the same, Amber-for you or me or any of us. I think you just have to do the best that you can do-as you! And the same for me...

I know what you mean-I feel like this myself about my dad's loss in my life. I'm not sure what anything really means without him to share it with, It's hard to even believe my life is real and will continue sometimes. I hear him talking to me, almost every day, but it's not the same as having him here. I knew I would miss him when he was gone- and he was 88 with Parkinson's, but we both thought he would have another five years or so. I had no idea that the world would seem like a totally different place without him. I am glad to hear you were accepted into the college she wanted you to go to and that you have good feelings about that. It's hard losing your parents, for so many different reasons... I often feel afraid and worried about the future, having lost my safety net, my advisor, my companion and best friend when I lost my dad. It's hard

It is SO hard losing your parents. My mother has been gone 11 years, but since I talked my dad into moving from PA to AZ to be with me, it was kind of like he brought part of he with him, because all the memories and a lot of he things were here with him. I was a lot closer to my dad than my mother all along, but it was kind of like losing her all over again along with him. I also lost ties to my grandparents on both sides along with my dad, his brother was long gone. Then my mother's sister died three months after my dad. and my sisters stopped talking to me after my dad's celebration of life and my aunt's memorial. My entire family is gone and I have a bunch of photos, and items of all kinds. Some of them I know about and some of them are mysteries because there is no one to ask. Sometimes I come across indications as to where things came from. It is really hard...

Sometimes I feel like I am about to go into free fall...And in a way, I guess I am, We are almost ready to start painting-the plan is to start the prep work on Monday and then start painting on Tuesday maybe. As soon as we get going on that we I will arrange for the carpet installers to come. Someone will come and pick up my dad's persian rug to clean it (it was my grandmother's and then my mother's/parents', my dad brought it to AZ, and now it is mine. When the rug comes back, we will move my dad's furniture and our combined "stuff" back up to my house in boxes and unpack. We have worked so hard to get to this point and there is just so much change and loss and more change, it is staggering and it is much too early. Most of my furniture is going to be sold or given away. It's kind of weird to say goodbye to all of your furniture at once. At the same time, the home I have been living in with my cat Lena, the home that was my dad's for 10 years, is going to be dismantled and will be no more. And somehow, I am going to be living in my new home that is at the same location as my old house, but it will be furnished with the furniture that was partly my parents' and their families' before them, and also furniture that my father bought when he moved to AZ. All of it was what I knew as my dad's, but over the last few months I have become a little acclimated to it as being mine, although still at his house, where he no longer lives. It just seems like too much. Too much change and too much uncertainty. Too many triggers and realizations about the past, like realizing that my dad was in much worse shape than I thought he was. Realizing that as much as he said he loved me, he really loved me more than that. He bought a bedroom set, a sofa-hide-a-bed, a daybed with a trundle bed under it that can come out, and some other pieces when he moved out here. He asked me to go with him to buy furniture and he was very much interested in my input. Which one was more attractive, went best with other items, which was the most comfortable and that kind of thing. We both tested all the features of the Tempurpedic mechanical bed and the sofa & daybed. I thought he just wanted my opinion to help him. He was used to having an artist's (my mother's) aesthetic sensibilities about decisions like this. But I realize now that he was wanting to make sure that I really liked the furniture he was buying because it would be mine someday. I loved the little daybed he bought, its spread and pillow shams. We talked a little about maybe some day he would need someone to stay with him and it would be good to have a bed in the second bedroom. I never thought it would be me, and I never dreamed that my sleeping in that adorable little bed would be mostly after he was gone. But he picked it out for me...it is so touching. And the sofa-I don't think he ever sat on it after it left the store. Sometimes I would sit on one end of it-there was barely room-most of it was blocked by a narrow table that sat in front of it, one of my mother's treasures. I think he bought those things ultimately for me, but never said anything about it, just like he never told me that he had stopped showering because he was so afraid of falling in the bathroom. We had talked about the bathroom being dangerous, and he listened to me like "yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever". But for at least four months, he only bathed with a wet washcloth in front of the sink. At some point I figured out that his bath towel never moved and his housekeeper confirmed this with her own suspicion. I asked him about it and he told me he was afraid of the bathroom. I bought a bunch of memory foam sticky bathmats and covered the bathroom's ceramic tiles with them, and I had another grab bar installed, got a shower bench and all of that. By the time he was getting help at home and then hospice came, they both told me I got an A+ on bathroom safety. But I wish he had told me earlier-it really breaks my heart to learn more and more of what he went through. But the truth is that it was his choice. If he had wanted to tell me, I was right here. But I think he was always afraid that I would get him into a "nursing home" and he really did not want that. I used to talk about them, in terms of other people, because I worked in home health care as a social worker, and later took Lena there as a therapy cat. He would ask me from time to time if I thought he should go to one of them, and I always told him that I didn't want to be a selfish pig and keep him all to myself if he thought it would be more fun or interesting to live in assisted living. But it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted him a minute and a half from my door. And there he stayed until the end. I sure do wish he was still here...

I hope so!

The people at PetSmart knew who the humans and the dog were, because the dog that bit me (Sam)-and another dog were in for grooming. A third dog was there for grooming when they left, so the staff knew they were going to see the people again shortly to pick up the third dog. The bite scratched the surface of the skin, but not enough to bleed. It left two red marks. This store is very strict about shots for every animal they groom (to protect the staff at a minimum). The groomer came out to help ID the dog after they left, and she said that Sam had never bitten anyone in grooming, but was irritable/snippy about it. And Sam had just left grooming, so he was apparently cranky. The man initially ignored my statement that his dog had bitten me, and when I said it more loudly and it was apparent that at least two staff had witnessed this -one had a good view of it- he apologized and defended himself/the dog. The woman would not look at me, and someone thought that probably meant that he was lying and the dog was known to be a biter. I did all the paperwork and also spelled out the couple's reaction afterwards-Sam slipping out of his collar twice within the following 60 seconds or so after the bite, and the couple's apathy and basically blaming me (never bitten anyone but me-so it must have been my fault). I told them I don't feel comfortable with them allowing a known biter to wander about the store with a super loose collar, especially since I frequently bring my cat into the store (on a leash), since we now know that this dog bites with no provocation and the owners are unconcerned. They told me that they thought their policy was to call animal control, and most likely when the people came back to pick up the third dog they would tell them they should be expecting a visit from animal control. Sedona is a strange place-lots of WooWoo/magical thinking and all that. I have a good friend who says it's a mecca for personality disorders. There are an amazing number of people who take their dogs off leash on trails-even though it's against the law and clearly marked-and are defensive and nasty about it. They figure if you are afraid of their dog, anything that happens is your fault, because if you were a mellow tolerant person, the dog would be no danger to you and therefore you should correct your personality to work along better with their dog. And the law...well that's just stupid, and the result of the fact that you are so stupid that you are apprehensive of their dog that never bit them so why would it bite you (a stranger). But PetSmart is taking it seriously, and the police take it seriously as well. I have a friend who had a bad experience with a pitt bull on a trail and was terrified. I took pictures, and we located the owner & his vehicle and she took him to court (successfully). I ran into one of these dog owners once when I had my cat on a leash on a trail very close to my house. When I called out to the owners and asked them to get their dog on a leash, they protested and said the dog was very friendly and not a threat to anyone. I responded, "Well, my cat may not think so!", they were very surprised and got the dog right on a leash. Sure, they would not expect a cat on a leash, but lots of dogs don't like small children and will bite them... We'll see. It was unnerving...and then to get that call from Michael as soon as I walked through the door. Dang! I'm trying not to panic. It does appear that I will have full time work through the end of December and then probably very part time work through the end of the school year. I keep plugging away at all this mess, but sometimes I think I will be lucky to outlive my dad by a year, just like I was afraid he would not outlive my mother by more than a year. Then I think this is a crazy thought. Then I have more mishaps and I am back to wondering quite literally if I am going to surveys all this. I am trying very hard to take care of myself and take care of everything I am supposed to be doing. but overall I'm not sure it's going very well...

Seems like one thing after another. I just got home from PetSmart, where I was bitten by a dog on the back of my leg. Just walking by this couple and their two dogs, who were loosely held on leads with loose collars. I wasn't particularly close, and this dog lunged out to the end of his lead and bit me. The man holding the lead didn't even look at me but pulled his dog closer. I said to him, "Your dog bit me", which he ignored, and so I said it again, louder. Then he turned to me, asked if the skin was broken (top layers broken, skin bruised), and apologized, saying that the dog had never bitten anyone before. "The dog has never bitten anyone before" means "It's your fault because my dog is not a biter". So I got home in time to field a call from Michael, the guy I subcontract with for professional work, telling me that one of my jobs for next year was given to someone else -someone at the school is a friend of another school psychologist and so is getting her friend in there to take my place. There is a lot of nepotism in small towns. And my other job site and the bulk of my income - Michael said he is not sure if they are going to renew the contract with us - it's still up in the air, but he says his gut level thought on it is that we're going to lose it. Uncertain... He did say that he could get me two days of work for half of the school year at another school on the reservation, and it's always possible that something else might turn up. Dang!

Yeah, I'm worried too-some of the time. And some of the time I really am not sure why I'm having trouble and feeling anxious. Because of the grief, car accident, and moving too soon? Something I'm not aware of? I don't know if I should be worried or not. My doctor says I'm fine. I'm not sure if having a headache every day for almost two months when I haven't had one in years is fine. One of the two OT's I work with saw me Thursday and said that for me to march in a very short parade playing the cello (someone else was carrying the other half, and Mister Cello was in a crowd surfing position) was very risky for me "at this point". Last year it was fine-but then I hadn't been in a car accident. Yesterday the other OT said that he was thinking about discharging me and then the two had a 30 second chat and he realized there were new goals related to the car accident, so I am continuing. The first OT suggested I see a neurologist and my doctor sent off the referral. Then yesterday he said I didn't need to see a neurologist. The chiropractor told me when he first saw me that my back was a mess from hips to head...actually what he wait was that it was "like someone went over it with a sledge hammer". I think he meant that it was twisted every which way. My typing here looks ok, but that is only due to the spellchecker and I read what I write and fix things constantly (writing me instead of my, etc.). I have told my helpers, especially Greg, but also Bonita, that they need to plan on this adventure and not just rely on me to tell them what to do...

I don't know...since I got a referral, should I go ahead and make an appointment and figure I could cancel it later if I needed to. I don't know what to do or who to ask. My doctor wrote the referral, but then said he didn't think I needed to go. The OT told me I should make an appointment anyway, even if it is 4-6 months out, since I can always cancel it. My friend who is a psychiatrist doesn't think it will serve any practical purpose, only legal purposes. My attorney is out of town on a special assignment until mid August and left someone else working on my case that I haven't even spoken to yet. I really don't know what I should do...

Thanks, Anne The accident has definitely slowed me down and forced me to rely heavily on my friends to get through the work of this move, with all the sorting and whatnot. But we are getting through it, which is a relief. I'm not sure that I've been resting much. When I have help I work on the mess, and when I have no one to help me, I am getting little done, feeling guilty about getting little done and well..grieving-crying and that sort of thing. I'm not sure that is resting...but it is what it is. I don't know about going to Phoenix. Right now there is no one who thinks I would be safe to drive a car to Phoenix. But October is a ways away. When is the show?

My friend Greg and I were going through a box today. Just like my dad, I had some stuff that was never sorted a decade ago when moving to Sedona, and this box sure was a "mixed bag". Most of it, naturally was utility bills and bank statements from 2005 and earlier. But I found some cards from my parents. I think I always had the impression that cards from my parents were generally selected and sent by my mother, although both names were there. But today, the first two I came to were actually written by my dad, although she was still alive. I found a lovely easter card on which he wrote, "Sorry this is late. Everything I do lately seems to be late. We do love you very much, Daddy" His handwriting was already shrinking from the Parkinson's-and no wonder everything was late. All those years ago and I had no idea that he was already suffering from this awful disease. And no one talked about it! All over again, I feel so grateful that I was able to coaxing him out here to be with me and that I was able to do what I could to make hie life easier and much better for his last ten years. And ten years is a long time! It's a significant piece out of anyone's life... He told me many times after he came out here, "I bet you had no idea I'd be such a burden on you when you asked me out her", and I always answered that any burden it had been had been most welcome and it was the best decisions I had even made in my life. I still feel that way. Those ten years were the best ten years of my life as well. Who would ever guess that things would work out that way... I sure miss him...

I think since my Dr thinks that it's unnecessary that it's not going to happen. He also told me that it wouldn't impact anything about my treatment or recovery - that it would mostly just heal on its own. I think that's not entirely true. You know, MD's are most familiar with treatments they've been trained on, such as pharmaceuticals, surgery, casting, and the like. Most of them aren't really on top of soft tissue injuries or the brain. The OT's have all kinds of treatments for post TBI treatments. I saw my doctor so many times with my dad, and it was generally a really geed experience. He has a great sense of humor and is kind, concerned and really smart. I would trot in the history and take notes of anything that should be done at home or followed up on. If my dad went in alone, he would always say that he was "just fine" and when I asked him about the visit later as to what had happened, he would say "nothing". If there were new medications I would research them. Usually I sent detailed emails ahead of time as to what was up. It was always a team event.

I went to my regular doctor today, to talk about a medication strategy to not sleeping, and also whether there is any point in seeing a neurologist 4-6 months from now, which is already 6 weeks after the car accident (for a post-concussion workup). Seems pointless at that that point and that is how far out they are scheduling. He thought so as well. It was kind of tough seeing my doctor, who was also my dad's doctor. I actually saw a lot more of him accompanying my dad than I ever did alone, and I told him it had been a lot more fun seeing him with my dad than alone. I think he was surprised at watching me cry during the entire visit. I just couldn't stop crying, even though we did the business of my visit...

That's all true...this is also a friend that when I talk to her always wants to talk for an hour-or more, and there is a long history of her working at controlling me with barely concealed anger that escalated as the conversation went on. I am much better equipped to deal with her than I was when we were younger, but she hasn't really changed much. I talked to her on the phone yesterday, and every time I said something she had heard before she bristled. It I told her something that didn't totally jive with her picture of how she remembered it, she bristled and was on the verge or accusing me of lying to her. Then she told me something I thought was way off base, and I thought I did a fabulous job of fielding it, but of course, nope! She was telling me that she had heard of professional organizers and she thought I should get one involved (right now). I actually have a good team of people that have been making good progress and I think we're on target time wise, although I may need a little more help on days my helpers are busy elsewhere. But I don't need a whole new approach midstream. I told her that was a great idea, and after I get all of my stuff in one location and am moved back in there, I could probably use an organizer to help me organize my art stuff into a reasonable studio so that I can paint at home (inside). She bristled and said that wasn't what she meant and argued for why I should follow her plan and dump what I am doing. She is not what I need right now...she hasn't offered to help, which is a good thing. Having her around would be on a par with having my sisters out here trying to help me - a potential disaster! She really doesn't know how to be supportive or to communicate in a situation where there is anything difficult going on. It is unfortunate that she has such extreme social problems, and I have been committed to her over the years, because as an artist, this has been a relationship I have benefitted from. But interactions with her come at some personal cost and I just can't do it right now. In fact, I couldn't help but have the thought that I really should be paid my professional rate to even deal with her this year. Sometimes she is really great and she has been a steadfast supporter of my painting, but this is not a good year for more than minimal interaction with her...

I think you can work with this, Patty, because you need to. We don't know her, and she may be responsive to a direct explanation. I hope so. It would be really good for you if she can stay out of your head and not try to "fix" you. The "broken record" technique that I was demonstrating in my earlier message (I hope that wasn't terribly annoying) is for people who don't really listen, don't respect boundaries when you try to set them, and who use any information they get to manipulate you in some way. I'm not sure if that's what she's doing, but the broken record approach puts up a rather effective wall when nothing else works. Good luck!

It is a pasta shop, isn't it?

This is what you do when someone -someone you need- is driving you crazy. You listen to the message, and ignore the delivery. Don't engage in a bunch of froth; respond like a broken record. This is what I mean: Yes, Ron would want you happy, but it's not going to happen today or this week or this month. If she doesn't hear you, say it again and go make some pasta. Right now you're focusing on trying to save the business. It means a lot to you. Focus on the message. Focus on the business. She is trying to help you with money you need. Great. Take her help but set limits. You don't want other partners, and have made it clear to her. If she doesn't hear you, say it again and go make some pasta. Stick to the basics. Run the business. Take her help and use the money to run the business. Set boundaries. She is there to contribute money and her time/energy/assets to save the business. You don't have to party with her or wear her hats or anything else. You can keep on an even keel and be pleasant and firm. You can say thank you, and get back to the business. Tell her thank you and you can tell her to go make some pasta while you finish sobbing and then you will go make some pasta. If she gives you advice you don't want you can say, "Thank you-that's very thoughtful". You don't have to do it, you can go do the books or go make some pasta. Or ask her to go make some pasta while you think about it. Listen to the message, ignore the delivery, and be a broken records to set limits. She is not your new best friend; she is a business partner. Run the business and go home.

That is totally true-and when my sleep is disrupted, it is invariably something internal and not something outside of myself. I lost my job in 2009, and it was similar-I had trouble going to sleep, I would have nightmares all night long that I had lost my job, and would wake up terrified to realize it was true. Looking back on it, it seems rather insignificant, because my dad actually carried me financially through it - like he said he would. He told me over and over, "I am not going to let the floor drop out from under you". But now he's gone, and there is no one to help me if I ever get into trouble again...I feel like a little lizard on the sidewalk with broken legs...

I am back to having trouble sleeping; I have trouble getting to sleep, staying asleep, and waking up too early. And I am a person who slept through a category 3 hurricane, gunfights, police raids, musicians jamming all night, sandstorms (while I was sleeping in only a folded sheet on the beach on a river trip), and so on. I am too filled with panic and deadline anxiety to sleep. All the things that usually work if I have a little problem are not working...Dang!

Nine months is not much... Jewish tradition requires a full year of mourning after a significant loss, and every year after that you observe the Yahrzeit (anniversary of the death) at services, where the congregation stands with the people who are mourning or observing the Yahrzeit of a loved one. This seems more realistic than what our general population seems to think is realistic. Marg- I know what you mean...I am split it two places, as you are--and we are both doing it much too soon! I can't even imagine how you are doing in two states! How far of a drive is that from one to the other? At least my two houses are only a block and a half apart!

I marched in a 4th of July parade in Jerome this morning, playing the cello, who was in a "crowd-surfing" position, with my friend carrying the other end of the cello. Last year my dad came and I was really really busy, getting him set in a safe and shady place where he could watch. I got him a spot on a tiny porch above the street, where we would march by. The little porch/balcony was packed, but he had a perfect seat and view. This year, marching by, I glanced up-knowing that I would not see him there. Of course he wasn't there, but the entire balcony/porch was empty! It was eery. Nevertheless, I think he was around somewhere, watching his daughter and her cello playing in the ukulele band and feeling proud.

When my dad first died, I had several weeks of dreaming all night and every night in a frenzy of things to do to help him, to save his life-only to wake up in a panic of sweat, realizing that he was already dead. One night it it stopped; I had turned a corner. That was a rather transparent dream...I was stuck in his ending and was having trouble moving past it.

Oh Anne, that sounds dreadful! I really feel for you, having to negotiate all of that. It is really a wicked scene that hurts people who need help.