How do you write on something that is so morally reprehensible? On Friday, Dec. 14, a 20 year old man who lived in Newtown, CT, killed his mother in their home and then went to the school where she was a teacher and shot 21 children and at least 7 adults. Seven adults were killed; I don't know how many, if any, were injured. I refuse to use the name of this killer even though I know what it is. Using it only gives him fame and calls attention to himself. He doesn't deserve this. His name should be stricken from our memories forever. His dastardly, cowardly deeds should be remembered, but not his name.
Many families now face the challenges of funerals for a child the full week before Christmas. Each of these families will no longer see their child smiling at them on Christmas Day. No longer will they be able to tuck the child in bed of an evening. These parents now face the horrors of outliving a child.
Seven other families face the trials of planning funerals as well. Most of those adults were young; all of them younger than I am, and all of them still in child bearing years. The means that their parents are probably still alive, and those parents, too, have outlived their children.
The world is focusing on the children, so I am focusing on the adults who lost their lives as well. They deserve as much attention as the children are getting. Husbands have lost a wife. Children have lost a mother. Brothers and sisters have lost a sibling. Parents lost a daughter.
Husbands no longer have a wife with which to lay down to sleep at night, their beds forever empty and cold. Husbands no longer have a helpmate in the home, to love and care for the children, no other adult with which to discuss important family matters. No longer is there an adult in the home to say "Sweet dreams" when the bedroom light is turned out and covers pulled up. No longer is their a woman to cuddle with, to say "I love you" to and have it said back at you. Husbands no longer have a wife to kiss goodbye in the morning, to kiss hello of an evening, to kiss goodnight when retiring to bed. Children no longer have a mother to fix a lunch for them, to organize activities in the home, to care for the entire family. Children no longer have a mother to rub that aching tummy or hurting head, to make special treats, to push back the dark after a bad dream, drive them to soccer or basball practice. Children no longer have a mother to confide things to, to referee family squabbles, take the dog for a walk or let the cat out. There will be empty places at the table on Christmas, and for every holiday and family gathering hereafter. Siblings have lost the companionship of their own childhood, their confidants, and in many cases, the voice of reason in the family.
These seven adults were all trying to help shelter the children in their care. Some rushed headlong at the shooter in an effort to stop him and were gunned down mercilessly. All of them are heroines, for all adults killed were women. The killer did not kill any men, only women. He was not so selective with the children, for both boys and girls were killed. But he was very selective with the adults he killed.
This blog entry is not aimed at taking away the horrors of the murder of the 20 children, but acknowledging that there were other victims in that school, adult victims whose families face the same shock and horrors of the families of the children. I've seen so many little things on Facebook honoring just the children. Well folks, 7 adults died too, most of them died as heroines, protecting the lives of the other children. Those lives need to be celebrated and remembered as well. And so I dedicate this blog entry, as poor as it is, to the women who were killed in the school, because the lives of their families have been forever altered as well. May each of you sit in glory at the side of our Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Hurricane Sandy
The East Coast was shattered by a hurricane named Sandy this week. It flooded NYC subways and left Manhattan in the dark. The New Jersey shoreline will never again be the same. A replica of the HMS Bounty was sunk off NC. Philadelphia was hit hard with winds and flooding. Storm surge was 14 feet above high tide, and Sandy hit on the day of a full moon. The ocean met the bay in many places. CT was also devastated, but not to the degree of NJ and NY. She hit land n Monday Oct. 29.
People drowned in their homes. Over a hundred homes in a NY area of the borough of Queens burned down when firemen couldn't reach the area due to flood waters, and the high winds fanned the flames from one home to another. Father drowns getting other family members to safety. A mother leaves her home too late and car drowns out and she gets out with 2 kids and goes to houses for entry and is refused. Then waves tear both kids from her and they drown. A tanker uprooted from its moorings and grounds on the paved shoulder of a highway. Jersey Shore landmarks swept away.
So few people actually evacuated, especially those in flood plains. Oh, it has never flooded here in 50 years. You know how the govt overreacts. This was at least a hundred years storm. So yeah, the evacuation warnings were not called for. I really don't feel sorry for folks who remained behind and were trapped and are now trying to survive sans power and water. They could have found rides out of the area, or at least evacuated to much higher ground. However, the federal govt has been very slow in getting assistance to these folks. Today is when they showed up. Not Wed. or Thursday, but Friday. 5 days after. Hmm, sounds like Hurricane Katrina for New Orleans...
I don't feel too sorry for a lot of the folks who lived in these fancy homes right on the shore. Who never planned for such floods when they built/bought. Rich, rich people who have 2 homes, one of them a summer home. The Hamptons on Long Island. They have just paid a high price for their elitism and privilege. No, I don't feel sorry for them. I do feel sorry for those folks who have lost everything. This one lady said they saved for 30 years for their house and the bought it and retired there (in a neighborhood where their income wasn't up to par with the neighbors, but having paid for the home they could survive) and have lost everything. She found some possessions over a mile away, but the house is long gone. Hope they had good insurance.
Why do people insist on building homes in areas where natural disaster WILL strike at some point? On mountainsides where the soil is unstable because of all the building. On beach fronts where the sand erodes with every storm. Where dunes come and go. On floodplains where rivers and lakes rise. Or live in a state that is merely a penninsula jutting out in to the ocean and which gets raked by hurricanes year after year after year. Just how stupid are they? Location location location. And the East Coast just got a huge lesson about Location. AND what is going to happen when the polar ice packs melt during this century. NYC will be completely under water, as will almost all of FL. Darrell will not be welcome here when FL gets inundated. Chris, if still in Portage, could be flooded out too by global warming, by Lake Michigan or tributary rivers to the Lake. We should be OK here, at 814 feet above sea level. But it won't be 814 feet when the ice packs are gone. Maybe 2 to 300 feet above, then. Or if Chris is in FL at that time, he won't have a place to come back to. Of course I may not be alive by that time, so HERE won't be here. But you get my point. I am not so stupid as to live on unstable mountainsides in California or along fault lines, or along oceanic shorelines. Sure, I love the ocean, but there are storms that destroy homes all the time. A nice place to visit, but NOT to live, even though I was tempted, once. But just once.
People drowned in their homes. Over a hundred homes in a NY area of the borough of Queens burned down when firemen couldn't reach the area due to flood waters, and the high winds fanned the flames from one home to another. Father drowns getting other family members to safety. A mother leaves her home too late and car drowns out and she gets out with 2 kids and goes to houses for entry and is refused. Then waves tear both kids from her and they drown. A tanker uprooted from its moorings and grounds on the paved shoulder of a highway. Jersey Shore landmarks swept away.
So few people actually evacuated, especially those in flood plains. Oh, it has never flooded here in 50 years. You know how the govt overreacts. This was at least a hundred years storm. So yeah, the evacuation warnings were not called for. I really don't feel sorry for folks who remained behind and were trapped and are now trying to survive sans power and water. They could have found rides out of the area, or at least evacuated to much higher ground. However, the federal govt has been very slow in getting assistance to these folks. Today is when they showed up. Not Wed. or Thursday, but Friday. 5 days after. Hmm, sounds like Hurricane Katrina for New Orleans...
I don't feel too sorry for a lot of the folks who lived in these fancy homes right on the shore. Who never planned for such floods when they built/bought. Rich, rich people who have 2 homes, one of them a summer home. The Hamptons on Long Island. They have just paid a high price for their elitism and privilege. No, I don't feel sorry for them. I do feel sorry for those folks who have lost everything. This one lady said they saved for 30 years for their house and the bought it and retired there (in a neighborhood where their income wasn't up to par with the neighbors, but having paid for the home they could survive) and have lost everything. She found some possessions over a mile away, but the house is long gone. Hope they had good insurance.
Why do people insist on building homes in areas where natural disaster WILL strike at some point? On mountainsides where the soil is unstable because of all the building. On beach fronts where the sand erodes with every storm. Where dunes come and go. On floodplains where rivers and lakes rise. Or live in a state that is merely a penninsula jutting out in to the ocean and which gets raked by hurricanes year after year after year. Just how stupid are they? Location location location. And the East Coast just got a huge lesson about Location. AND what is going to happen when the polar ice packs melt during this century. NYC will be completely under water, as will almost all of FL. Darrell will not be welcome here when FL gets inundated. Chris, if still in Portage, could be flooded out too by global warming, by Lake Michigan or tributary rivers to the Lake. We should be OK here, at 814 feet above sea level. But it won't be 814 feet when the ice packs are gone. Maybe 2 to 300 feet above, then. Or if Chris is in FL at that time, he won't have a place to come back to. Of course I may not be alive by that time, so HERE won't be here. But you get my point. I am not so stupid as to live on unstable mountainsides in California or along fault lines, or along oceanic shorelines. Sure, I love the ocean, but there are storms that destroy homes all the time. A nice place to visit, but NOT to live, even though I was tempted, once. But just once.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Moved out of the bedroom
Well, it is offical. 10/19/12 and I have moved in to the computer room and am sleeping on an air mattress on the floor. Not that it is such a big deal. I haven't slept in the bedroom more than 20 nights since mid-February. Can't take the snoring, the thrashing, the randoms hits/kicks (those last ones being all completely unintentional). Kent is an active sleeper and as of late, I just can't handle it any longer. His movement are completely driven by his sleep, and he'd not harm me no matter what. I've slept most nights in my chair in the living room since Feb. At least on the air mattress I can now stretch out.
I was supposed to have the futon bed in the spare bedroom, but he never got around to cleaning out that room even though he told me it was the FIRST thing he'd do when he was laid off from Brock. Layoff date was 8/30/12, and it is 10/29/12 today. Yeah, like that happened. So he spent his last free weekend cleaning out the computer room. Only fair, I guess. He spent most of the time he could have spent cleaning out the spare bedroom over at Brian's, working on a new carriage for the swivel gun. As usual, he fiddlefarted around until he suddenly had a job. That has happened for 3 years running. And this time I wasn't understanding about it, because enough was enough. I had to come first in this. Yeah, I come first in a lot of things, but this was a life threatening situation for me, and there was not getting around it this time. I know I pissed him off, but it if don't stand up for my life, who will? No one, that's who. Kent hasn't been ill like I have to truly understand what it is like for me.
He was hired 10-24-12 at a place over in Lafayette, on second shift (boo, hiss) but at least it is a job. And he was a direct hire, not hired via a temp service. Which means he gets more money. And after his 90 day probationary period he will have benefits. Yes! Benefits! Gonna cost us a bunch, but by claiming my social security check after I turn 62 we will have enough to make up the missing funds plus pay for the medications and doctors, etc. Yes! Now if only...
I don't know if I'll ever be able to sleep in the same bed with him, at least as long as he snores so badly. The snoring had been getting a little better since he was out of Brock and no long in the dust in Brian's garage. But that will probably be changing now that he's back to work. He says the plant is clean, but factory is a factory is a factory, and dust and debris accumulate... We'll see. After he gets some benefits we may look in to having his apnea diagnosed, and see if he can get the CPAP stuff so he actually sleeps deeply. Maybe I can tolerate that noise of a night. All this remains to be seen.
Maybe if we get a sleep number mattress to properly support us, he might lay more quietly. And then again, maybe not. He has not been working for nearly 2 months and the thrashing is suddenly worse...It is work related, that is for certain.
I was supposed to have the futon bed in the spare bedroom, but he never got around to cleaning out that room even though he told me it was the FIRST thing he'd do when he was laid off from Brock. Layoff date was 8/30/12, and it is 10/29/12 today. Yeah, like that happened. So he spent his last free weekend cleaning out the computer room. Only fair, I guess. He spent most of the time he could have spent cleaning out the spare bedroom over at Brian's, working on a new carriage for the swivel gun. As usual, he fiddlefarted around until he suddenly had a job. That has happened for 3 years running. And this time I wasn't understanding about it, because enough was enough. I had to come first in this. Yeah, I come first in a lot of things, but this was a life threatening situation for me, and there was not getting around it this time. I know I pissed him off, but it if don't stand up for my life, who will? No one, that's who. Kent hasn't been ill like I have to truly understand what it is like for me.
He was hired 10-24-12 at a place over in Lafayette, on second shift (boo, hiss) but at least it is a job. And he was a direct hire, not hired via a temp service. Which means he gets more money. And after his 90 day probationary period he will have benefits. Yes! Benefits! Gonna cost us a bunch, but by claiming my social security check after I turn 62 we will have enough to make up the missing funds plus pay for the medications and doctors, etc. Yes! Now if only...
I don't know if I'll ever be able to sleep in the same bed with him, at least as long as he snores so badly. The snoring had been getting a little better since he was out of Brock and no long in the dust in Brian's garage. But that will probably be changing now that he's back to work. He says the plant is clean, but factory is a factory is a factory, and dust and debris accumulate... We'll see. After he gets some benefits we may look in to having his apnea diagnosed, and see if he can get the CPAP stuff so he actually sleeps deeply. Maybe I can tolerate that noise of a night. All this remains to be seen.
Maybe if we get a sleep number mattress to properly support us, he might lay more quietly. And then again, maybe not. He has not been working for nearly 2 months and the thrashing is suddenly worse...It is work related, that is for certain.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
The Little One
We had a squirrel make her nest in the pine tree just north of our back fence line, in the last pine tree behind our property in 2011. It was entertaining to watch her gather the leaves to make the nest from our northernmost maple tree.
She was a beautiful speciman of fox squirrel, and I named her Fat N Sassy. She had a couple of babies in the spring, one of whom earned the name Young N Dumb. Don't know if the other squirrel we kept seeing was hers or was a neighbor.
This fall I noted a young squirrel behind of neighbor's property, and it was just a beautiful as its mother. At the time of discovery I didn't know if it was male or female.
Never saw this squirrel run the lines or get over in to our north maple tree, so I sort of named it Young N Younger.
Last week I noticed that this squirrel was having a hard time coming down the tree just west of the nest tree trunk. Thought it might be because the tree was dead. It seemed to spend a lot of time behind our property, on the ground. Never seemed to go very far away while I was watching it.
On Monday I discovered the reason for the climbing difficulty. It had a sore right hind leg. On Tuesday I glimpsed a second wound on the inside of the right hind leg, and could see that it wasn't putting any weight on the leg. Just before dusk I discovered, to my horror, that the left front leg ended in a stump at about the wrist. Therefore, this poor squirrel only had 2 working legs. I knew that it was doomed to either get caught by a cat or dog while on the ground, or die of infection. That appalled me, and even though I knew no one would be there, I went looking for a DNR number, only to find there wasn't one for wildlife control in the phone book. I placed a couple of walnuts at the base of the nest tree, along with an apple, so it could at least have some nourishment near safety.
On Wednesay I observed this squirrel laying in the grass in the sun, reclining back so that I had a good view of the belly. It was then that I knew it was really a she. I tossed her some peanuts and some striped sunflower seeds but she was not interested. I started calling her Little One because of her youth and my horror at her injuries. It is possible that the left front paw was a deformity, but I'll never know, not having seen her clearly before Tuesday.
I was appalled at her lack of interest in the easy food. And when I came back to look at her about an hour later, she had laid belly down on the ground and had her tail up next to her body. I immediately though that she had just died, and I started crying. That was when I went in to the house and called the Humane Society. They suggested a place which sold traps, but I asked what I was supposed to do with it after I caught it because it was, after all, a wild animal. I didn't want to say I didn't want to get in trouble for helping out a wild animal without a license to do so, but I think that the lady knew there was an ethical dilemna there. She then asked if we could catch it under a basket, and I said we could (but I didn't have a clue what we'd use at the time). She said that they didn't normally deal with squirrels, and if it was so badly injured, all they could do was put it to sleep. My heart officially broke on that, although I knew that being put to sleep would be far kinder than starvation or dying of infection or getting caught by a predator. The lady then said she'd send out a Humane Society truck to pick up the injured squirrel.
Kent and I caught her, but she figured out a way from under the plastic pond tub. We had to chase her down again, and this time she went in to an empty kitty litter pail with an attached lid. Of course I knew her time on this Earth was now limited, and it was really tearing me up. I am crying as I write this because of how terrified I knew her to be when we caught her the second time.
She is an innocent creature. What if a predator had gotten ahold of Ptera and left her in that shape before we found her in the yard? Would I have called the Humane Society on her? No, Ptera is a cat, and I'd have tried to save her life. Of course, I did save her life by adopting her into the family, but she was a healthy kitten. Nonetheless, the thought of this innocent squirrel, who only wanted to eat, sleep, play, and follow her natural instincts losing her life because of me hit me hard. I know I was doing what was best for her, doing what was kindest for her.
I sat by the pail, talking to her. As if that did anything but scare her more, I'd imagine. but I was trying to use a calm voice to help calm her down. The Humane Society guy came back and we surrendered the pail with its contents to him. We told him it was badly injured and only had 2 legs to walk/climb with, and was not eating properly. The 2 walnuts that I'd left under the tree Tuesday night were still there. Have no clue what she ate, if anything, other than a few nibbles of apple Tuesday evening and Wed. AM.
It hurts that she is now dead because I called the Humane Society. But watching her suffer was worse yet. I've heard you can judge a person by how it treats animals, and I did waht was right, what was best for her. But the loss of her presence, the fact that I'll never have seen her scampering through the trees and the yard strikes at my heart.
Rest in peace Little One. You were so young, so innocent. You lost your opportunity at a normal life when some predator caught you. You got away, but you suffered mightily for that escape. And you paid the ultimate price anyway because of the extent of that hind leg injury. But please, rest in peace. You are no longer suffering, you are no longer hungry or lonely or afraid. Rest in peace.
She was a beautiful speciman of fox squirrel, and I named her Fat N Sassy. She had a couple of babies in the spring, one of whom earned the name Young N Dumb. Don't know if the other squirrel we kept seeing was hers or was a neighbor.
This fall I noted a young squirrel behind of neighbor's property, and it was just a beautiful as its mother. At the time of discovery I didn't know if it was male or female.
Never saw this squirrel run the lines or get over in to our north maple tree, so I sort of named it Young N Younger.
Last week I noticed that this squirrel was having a hard time coming down the tree just west of the nest tree trunk. Thought it might be because the tree was dead. It seemed to spend a lot of time behind our property, on the ground. Never seemed to go very far away while I was watching it.
On Monday I discovered the reason for the climbing difficulty. It had a sore right hind leg. On Tuesday I glimpsed a second wound on the inside of the right hind leg, and could see that it wasn't putting any weight on the leg. Just before dusk I discovered, to my horror, that the left front leg ended in a stump at about the wrist. Therefore, this poor squirrel only had 2 working legs. I knew that it was doomed to either get caught by a cat or dog while on the ground, or die of infection. That appalled me, and even though I knew no one would be there, I went looking for a DNR number, only to find there wasn't one for wildlife control in the phone book. I placed a couple of walnuts at the base of the nest tree, along with an apple, so it could at least have some nourishment near safety.
On Wednesay I observed this squirrel laying in the grass in the sun, reclining back so that I had a good view of the belly. It was then that I knew it was really a she. I tossed her some peanuts and some striped sunflower seeds but she was not interested. I started calling her Little One because of her youth and my horror at her injuries. It is possible that the left front paw was a deformity, but I'll never know, not having seen her clearly before Tuesday.
I was appalled at her lack of interest in the easy food. And when I came back to look at her about an hour later, she had laid belly down on the ground and had her tail up next to her body. I immediately though that she had just died, and I started crying. That was when I went in to the house and called the Humane Society. They suggested a place which sold traps, but I asked what I was supposed to do with it after I caught it because it was, after all, a wild animal. I didn't want to say I didn't want to get in trouble for helping out a wild animal without a license to do so, but I think that the lady knew there was an ethical dilemna there. She then asked if we could catch it under a basket, and I said we could (but I didn't have a clue what we'd use at the time). She said that they didn't normally deal with squirrels, and if it was so badly injured, all they could do was put it to sleep. My heart officially broke on that, although I knew that being put to sleep would be far kinder than starvation or dying of infection or getting caught by a predator. The lady then said she'd send out a Humane Society truck to pick up the injured squirrel.
Kent and I caught her, but she figured out a way from under the plastic pond tub. We had to chase her down again, and this time she went in to an empty kitty litter pail with an attached lid. Of course I knew her time on this Earth was now limited, and it was really tearing me up. I am crying as I write this because of how terrified I knew her to be when we caught her the second time.
She is an innocent creature. What if a predator had gotten ahold of Ptera and left her in that shape before we found her in the yard? Would I have called the Humane Society on her? No, Ptera is a cat, and I'd have tried to save her life. Of course, I did save her life by adopting her into the family, but she was a healthy kitten. Nonetheless, the thought of this innocent squirrel, who only wanted to eat, sleep, play, and follow her natural instincts losing her life because of me hit me hard. I know I was doing what was best for her, doing what was kindest for her.
I sat by the pail, talking to her. As if that did anything but scare her more, I'd imagine. but I was trying to use a calm voice to help calm her down. The Humane Society guy came back and we surrendered the pail with its contents to him. We told him it was badly injured and only had 2 legs to walk/climb with, and was not eating properly. The 2 walnuts that I'd left under the tree Tuesday night were still there. Have no clue what she ate, if anything, other than a few nibbles of apple Tuesday evening and Wed. AM.
It hurts that she is now dead because I called the Humane Society. But watching her suffer was worse yet. I've heard you can judge a person by how it treats animals, and I did waht was right, what was best for her. But the loss of her presence, the fact that I'll never have seen her scampering through the trees and the yard strikes at my heart.
Rest in peace Little One. You were so young, so innocent. You lost your opportunity at a normal life when some predator caught you. You got away, but you suffered mightily for that escape. And you paid the ultimate price anyway because of the extent of that hind leg injury. But please, rest in peace. You are no longer suffering, you are no longer hungry or lonely or afraid. Rest in peace.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Dad
Saturday June 9 2012 marked what would have been Mom and Dad's 74th anniversary. Needless to say it was a really depressing day for me; I had honored the event in my heart for several ears because Dad was remarried. And Dad was always alive. This year, however, Dad joined Mom once again, and now I have neither of them.
Sunday June 10 2012 would have been Dad's 96th birthday. I had decided that we would have another party this year because of Dad's failing health, and it would be a chance for all of us to get together again. But with Dad's death this past Feb. 20, that dream died as well.
I miss my dad. I wasn't the best daughter, especially in the past few years. I had issues, 2 big ones especially, that got in my way. I did manage to deal with one of them last year, but the abandonment one is still here. I couldn't tell Dad while he was alive, but I did tell him after he died. If he is in Heaven and watching, he heard me. If there is no afterlife, God forbid, well, then it doesn't matter, does it.
I know Gramma died never forgiving him, and I don't think Lyle and Marilyn will ever forgive him either. I am in total agreement with them. He left all of us behind to move south with his new wife so she could be closer to her grandchildren. Had they moved halfway between Kokomo and New Albany, I could have grudginly accepted that. But he moved 3 hours away. I know Glory convinced him that we would visit him often if he moved away, but given the fact that I HATE riding, there was fat chance of that. Dad knew this, but apparently forgot it. But the pain of the abandonment was great.
Once he was south, Glory seemed to change. I know she developed health issues and I am all too aware of how pain and frustration can weigh on you. But Glory was bringing him down... He was sitting home with her doing nothing for years before his health demanded it. At least he did finally get out of the house some in those last years before they sold the house. But once he was in the apartment, that changed too.
Glory is not a bad woman. She is quirky, more so since she is wheel chair bound. Opinionated. But then, who isn't nowadays? She loved Dad very much, and I know she doesn't really want to live without him. I believe that she was married to Dad longer than she was married to Vaughn's dad. Don't know that for sure, but it was Dad she said she'd be with in death, not Delbert. Even so, she will be buried next to Delbert, her first husband.
I miss you Dad. I wasn't the daughter you wanted the last 20 years of your life. I can't blame my feeling of abandonment on you; the feeling is mine. You did what you felt was right for your wife, with what many of us perceive as not right for your own flesh and blood. But it was your choice, and one I will never ever accept. I may one day learn to forgive you for leaving us behind, but it will not be easy. You will have to listen to many tirades against your decision in the process. And I can not promise I will be able to forgive you. But you are my father, and I do love you and I miss the presence that I knew was there even if so far away from me. I know you accepted my emotional distance, perhaps too easily. Which is probably my fault, too.
Father's Day 2012 is likewise the first without you. It has not been as hard as difficult as was the anniversary and your birthday, but it has not been easy. Two weekends in row which revolved around you - without you in this world.
I know that you were ready to depart this life, that you knew you had lived past what you thought you should lived. In spite of not being kept artifically alive, you were still kept alive by the hospitalizations and the nursing home We all knew that your birthday celebration last year would be your last even though I didn't want to accept it. I don't think that I was the only one, either. We all know that you went outside last summer (2011), hoping that you would not survive the heat, and that things went downhill from there when you were given CPR by your health aide at the apartment. So in a way you did get your wish, albeit 7 months later. And I didn't act like I should have. I have not been the person I should have been for many, many years. And so I live with the regrets that all this has caused. Nonetheless, I do miss and love you Dad. Greatly. I know that you know this, then as now. I told you every time we talked.
Rest in peace Dad. You taught us to be responsible and stand on our own two feet, and we learned that lesson. I was always proud of you as the provider, as the man the community knew and respected. You were there for me when I really needed it, and when some things that were Mom's that were supposed to be mine never came to me, I accepted it, but it did little to make me want to stay close. You sold my mother's things one by one by one until none were left. But I still loved you because you were my father. Sometimes I didn't like you very much, but I always loved you.
Sunday June 10 2012 would have been Dad's 96th birthday. I had decided that we would have another party this year because of Dad's failing health, and it would be a chance for all of us to get together again. But with Dad's death this past Feb. 20, that dream died as well.
I miss my dad. I wasn't the best daughter, especially in the past few years. I had issues, 2 big ones especially, that got in my way. I did manage to deal with one of them last year, but the abandonment one is still here. I couldn't tell Dad while he was alive, but I did tell him after he died. If he is in Heaven and watching, he heard me. If there is no afterlife, God forbid, well, then it doesn't matter, does it.
I know Gramma died never forgiving him, and I don't think Lyle and Marilyn will ever forgive him either. I am in total agreement with them. He left all of us behind to move south with his new wife so she could be closer to her grandchildren. Had they moved halfway between Kokomo and New Albany, I could have grudginly accepted that. But he moved 3 hours away. I know Glory convinced him that we would visit him often if he moved away, but given the fact that I HATE riding, there was fat chance of that. Dad knew this, but apparently forgot it. But the pain of the abandonment was great.
Once he was south, Glory seemed to change. I know she developed health issues and I am all too aware of how pain and frustration can weigh on you. But Glory was bringing him down... He was sitting home with her doing nothing for years before his health demanded it. At least he did finally get out of the house some in those last years before they sold the house. But once he was in the apartment, that changed too.
Glory is not a bad woman. She is quirky, more so since she is wheel chair bound. Opinionated. But then, who isn't nowadays? She loved Dad very much, and I know she doesn't really want to live without him. I believe that she was married to Dad longer than she was married to Vaughn's dad. Don't know that for sure, but it was Dad she said she'd be with in death, not Delbert. Even so, she will be buried next to Delbert, her first husband.
I miss you Dad. I wasn't the daughter you wanted the last 20 years of your life. I can't blame my feeling of abandonment on you; the feeling is mine. You did what you felt was right for your wife, with what many of us perceive as not right for your own flesh and blood. But it was your choice, and one I will never ever accept. I may one day learn to forgive you for leaving us behind, but it will not be easy. You will have to listen to many tirades against your decision in the process. And I can not promise I will be able to forgive you. But you are my father, and I do love you and I miss the presence that I knew was there even if so far away from me. I know you accepted my emotional distance, perhaps too easily. Which is probably my fault, too.
Father's Day 2012 is likewise the first without you. It has not been as hard as difficult as was the anniversary and your birthday, but it has not been easy. Two weekends in row which revolved around you - without you in this world.
I know that you were ready to depart this life, that you knew you had lived past what you thought you should lived. In spite of not being kept artifically alive, you were still kept alive by the hospitalizations and the nursing home We all knew that your birthday celebration last year would be your last even though I didn't want to accept it. I don't think that I was the only one, either. We all know that you went outside last summer (2011), hoping that you would not survive the heat, and that things went downhill from there when you were given CPR by your health aide at the apartment. So in a way you did get your wish, albeit 7 months later. And I didn't act like I should have. I have not been the person I should have been for many, many years. And so I live with the regrets that all this has caused. Nonetheless, I do miss and love you Dad. Greatly. I know that you know this, then as now. I told you every time we talked.
Rest in peace Dad. You taught us to be responsible and stand on our own two feet, and we learned that lesson. I was always proud of you as the provider, as the man the community knew and respected. You were there for me when I really needed it, and when some things that were Mom's that were supposed to be mine never came to me, I accepted it, but it did little to make me want to stay close. You sold my mother's things one by one by one until none were left. But I still loved you because you were my father. Sometimes I didn't like you very much, but I always loved you.
Deja Vu
Dear God, why is this happening again? Why don't I ever learn not to trust him? You know that I love him, but he fails me every time. Every time. About the only job he has not been fired from since we were married was the one where he was pouring concrete ornaments. He was fired from the sheetmetal workers. He was fired from the railroad. He was fired from Advanced Auto. He was fired from WWL, and now is he going to get fired from Brock. It wasn't so bad when I was still working, because I had a good income. But now my net is half of what it was. Since he'll be fired he can't collect unemployment for 6 weeks. He was sent back to the SQ line, which means he has lost the chance for one of those jobs on the Perfless lines, which was to become a full time job-getting hired as a regular employee, not just a temp. Just fucking great.
Lessa
The past few months I have noticed that my Lessa Houdini Aircat, aka Mouwess, has been changing. She has lost maybe 1/2 pound, but she isn't caring for her fur as well as she has in the past. She isn't eating as much, either, which would help account for the weight loss. I've noticed that she isn't eating her morning treat that Kent gives her like she used to. It may sit there on top of the freezer all day long (it is dry food, so no big deal). She has started licking her fur off her belly and legs again, after stopping the OCD behavior for over a year. Ptera Dactyl has been a part of the house for 2 years, and if Ptera is the chief cause, I would have thought it would have started when Ptera was first brought in to the house. And Lessa doesn't seem to be able to get comfortable very easily. Yesterday evening she wouldn't settle down; she was up and down and all around, including walking all over my legs, which were hurting anyway. Poor girl was yelled at several times and kneed off the chair several more. This behavior kept on even after Kent went to bed and I tried to settle in to sleep. It was nearly 5 AM before she actually completely settled in next to me in the chair.
However, her activity level outside does seem to be on the increase. Yesterday I watched her dance across the backyard chasing a white cabbage moth. She doesn't chase it with the same intensity as does Ptera Dactyl, but for Lessa, it was very active!!! She mostly loped after it, but there were a few leaps in to the air. I am so grateful that I was able to witness this cavort! I certainly hope it will not be the last one I observe.
She was leaving the backyard illegally nearly every day, but in the past few weeks
she has been staying in the backyard more often. Of course, then today she left the yard twice.
It is possible that Lessa has developed diabetes, just like Muffin. Kent and I have agreed that we will not give her shots. She'll be left with some dignity, unlike Muffin, if this turns out to be the case. It would shorten her life, but the betrayal to her at age 12 would be worse.
The idea of losing Lessa terrifies me. She is a direct link to Smudge, and once she is gone, we will have truly lost all of him. Sure, Yeowller was rescued shortly after we brought Smudge and Lessa in to the house, but Lessa IS the reason that Smudge entered our life. I wanted to make sure that she wasn't put to sleep because she was such an ugly kitten, and the intervening time between when I first saw her and we went back for her she was changing. The Ugly Duckling turned in to a Graceful Swan in those couple of months. She had the most beautiful pink nose, that eventually developed dark spots on the outside edges of. We lovingly called her Little Pink Rat Nose when it was all pink. Smudge was still alive when her nose began to change, and it continued to get darker year after year. Oh, the pink is still there, but not as bright pink and definitely not all over pink.
Lessa has always disliked loud noises and has loudly scolded us when our voices are raised, and sometimes when they are not raised... She has an obnoxious scolding voice, let me tell you! She always gets up from wherever she is and strides purposely towards whichever one of us is talking the loudest, and then starts in on us.
She used to love riding in the car, but she lost that love several years ago. Oh, she goes through the motions of wanting to go, but she won't come in to our arms to be carried out to the vehicle. She wants to go outside, out front, which is Forbidden Territory to her. It was always a treat to her to get to walk from the car to the house when she went for rides with us. I know she didn't like riding in Kent's truck, nor mine, but she quit riding in the car before we lost it in 2010.
I tears me up inside contemplating losing Lessa. The last cat we lost was Macha, 4 years ago. But Lessa, like I said, is a direct link to our best beloved Smudge, because we decided to bring him home with her, for company, never knowing that he would completely take over our hearts in just a couple days.
But I hope that I am wrong, and that Lessa has many more years of life left in her. Maybe she has arthritis, which would account for a less active life. If it is worse, then we keep her comfortable until she has no quality of life, and then release her from her earthly form, to go roam with Smudge as they wait for us with the others who have gone before us.
However, her activity level outside does seem to be on the increase. Yesterday I watched her dance across the backyard chasing a white cabbage moth. She doesn't chase it with the same intensity as does Ptera Dactyl, but for Lessa, it was very active!!! She mostly loped after it, but there were a few leaps in to the air. I am so grateful that I was able to witness this cavort! I certainly hope it will not be the last one I observe.
She was leaving the backyard illegally nearly every day, but in the past few weeks
she has been staying in the backyard more often. Of course, then today she left the yard twice.
It is possible that Lessa has developed diabetes, just like Muffin. Kent and I have agreed that we will not give her shots. She'll be left with some dignity, unlike Muffin, if this turns out to be the case. It would shorten her life, but the betrayal to her at age 12 would be worse.
The idea of losing Lessa terrifies me. She is a direct link to Smudge, and once she is gone, we will have truly lost all of him. Sure, Yeowller was rescued shortly after we brought Smudge and Lessa in to the house, but Lessa IS the reason that Smudge entered our life. I wanted to make sure that she wasn't put to sleep because she was such an ugly kitten, and the intervening time between when I first saw her and we went back for her she was changing. The Ugly Duckling turned in to a Graceful Swan in those couple of months. She had the most beautiful pink nose, that eventually developed dark spots on the outside edges of. We lovingly called her Little Pink Rat Nose when it was all pink. Smudge was still alive when her nose began to change, and it continued to get darker year after year. Oh, the pink is still there, but not as bright pink and definitely not all over pink.
Lessa has always disliked loud noises and has loudly scolded us when our voices are raised, and sometimes when they are not raised... She has an obnoxious scolding voice, let me tell you! She always gets up from wherever she is and strides purposely towards whichever one of us is talking the loudest, and then starts in on us.
She used to love riding in the car, but she lost that love several years ago. Oh, she goes through the motions of wanting to go, but she won't come in to our arms to be carried out to the vehicle. She wants to go outside, out front, which is Forbidden Territory to her. It was always a treat to her to get to walk from the car to the house when she went for rides with us. I know she didn't like riding in Kent's truck, nor mine, but she quit riding in the car before we lost it in 2010.
I tears me up inside contemplating losing Lessa. The last cat we lost was Macha, 4 years ago. But Lessa, like I said, is a direct link to our best beloved Smudge, because we decided to bring him home with her, for company, never knowing that he would completely take over our hearts in just a couple days.
But I hope that I am wrong, and that Lessa has many more years of life left in her. Maybe she has arthritis, which would account for a less active life. If it is worse, then we keep her comfortable until she has no quality of life, and then release her from her earthly form, to go roam with Smudge as they wait for us with the others who have gone before us.
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