The things that help...
I feel lost these days. My youngest son is fighting melanoma cancer in a hospital in Tijuana, Mexico. My mother is tired and giving up after a major stroke in January 2018. Today is August 22, 2019 and I cannot seem to wrap my brain around the thought of what is happening.
My mom was healthy and so was my son. How did she go down hill so quickly at the age of 78 after the stroke that took 40% of her brain, left her with Aphasia, yet she was walking down the street, trying to cook, trying to learn how to use the phone, and learn how to write, and learn how to talk all over again? And, how did my 37 year old son get melanoma? How and why do other people die and develop cancer at such an early age? Why? Why? Why? How? How? How do I survive my feelings of loss and helplessness? Isn't life supposed to be enjoyed? What do I do to get to the acceptance part of my grievances? To answer those question, I do a lot of different things.
I take care of my son's little Yorkshire, Samson, so darn cute. Samson doesn't seem to have a care in the world except he is always wanting to be by someone. He is a people person. I write, a lot. I draw, I tutor, I travel, and although this last part might help and I really don't want to do it, I do happen to go to work so I can do my part and pay good ole Uncle Sam. Although I am not ready, I do realize that someday I will find my energy wanting to leave this vessel and move on to my next existence. I have faith and hope that my son is going to survive and get rid of the cancer with the help of the medical team in Mexico.
I know that my mom doesn't want to be around any longer because she feels like her quality of life sucks, taking medicine every day for high blood pressure, for A Fibrillation, for osteoporosis, getting eye drops twice a day to help with her glaucoma, going to the doctors all the time, not being able to talk due to Aphasia (she mumbles mostly), not being able to understand what others are saying, (we sound like we’re mumbling to her) unless we write what we want to say to her on the whiteboard, and she’s just not enjoying the fact that her muscles are giving out. I do not blame my mother for wanting her energy to leave her failing, frail vessel. I would want to go too.
All these things help me get to the acceptance part of my grievances. Instead of being sad and lost, I want to feel hopeful for both my son and my mom. Hopeful that their wishes are granted. Todd wants to be healed and my mom wants to move on to her next journey of existence without suffering along her path. I’m sure she wanted things to be different...
Maybe I'll revise this later, but for now, I am going to post it and go take Samson outside.
My mom was healthy and so was my son. How did she go down hill so quickly at the age of 78 after the stroke that took 40% of her brain, left her with Aphasia, yet she was walking down the street, trying to cook, trying to learn how to use the phone, and learn how to write, and learn how to talk all over again? And, how did my 37 year old son get melanoma? How and why do other people die and develop cancer at such an early age? Why? Why? Why? How? How? How do I survive my feelings of loss and helplessness? Isn't life supposed to be enjoyed? What do I do to get to the acceptance part of my grievances? To answer those question, I do a lot of different things.
I take care of my son's little Yorkshire, Samson, so darn cute. Samson doesn't seem to have a care in the world except he is always wanting to be by someone. He is a people person. I write, a lot. I draw, I tutor, I travel, and although this last part might help and I really don't want to do it, I do happen to go to work so I can do my part and pay good ole Uncle Sam. Although I am not ready, I do realize that someday I will find my energy wanting to leave this vessel and move on to my next existence. I have faith and hope that my son is going to survive and get rid of the cancer with the help of the medical team in Mexico.
I know that my mom doesn't want to be around any longer because she feels like her quality of life sucks, taking medicine every day for high blood pressure, for A Fibrillation, for osteoporosis, getting eye drops twice a day to help with her glaucoma, going to the doctors all the time, not being able to talk due to Aphasia (she mumbles mostly), not being able to understand what others are saying, (we sound like we’re mumbling to her) unless we write what we want to say to her on the whiteboard, and she’s just not enjoying the fact that her muscles are giving out. I do not blame my mother for wanting her energy to leave her failing, frail vessel. I would want to go too.
All these things help me get to the acceptance part of my grievances. Instead of being sad and lost, I want to feel hopeful for both my son and my mom. Hopeful that their wishes are granted. Todd wants to be healed and my mom wants to move on to her next journey of existence without suffering along her path. I’m sure she wanted things to be different...
Maybe I'll revise this later, but for now, I am going to post it and go take Samson outside.
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