What, no one wanted my berry pie recipe??
Thank you all, my friends. You are just as engaging to me.
Carolyn ... don't worry, I'm cautious. I figure the profile will scare off a lot of icky men. And hey, the person who hurt me most was my pastor, so ... I'm not sure what that means, actually. But I'm glad to say I think a lot of that is now behind me. Not totally, but a lot of it.
As for my mother, well ... my brother lived for 20 years in a nursing home, but my parents brought him home every Sunday for Sunday dinner. In all those years they missed maybe 4-5, either because he was sick (mostly) or perhaps weather (snow, heat). I am not kidding. My mom did all his laundry during all those years, too. She wouldn't let the home do it. I guess that was one of the things she felt she could do for him. She really labored over it. My parents visited him several times a week, even though the home was a good 30 miles from where they lived. This happened when they were in their late 50's; they were still doing all this, including loading him in and out of cars, taking him on vacations (to where my dad grew up, mostly), etc., until my brother died and they were 80. You couldn't stop them. My brother was a large 6'1" and my parents were ...not!
For all his incapacity, my brother lived for 20 years in relatively good health. He had seizures, etc., and the drugs caused some dental problems, etc., but basically, and amazingly, he was in pretty good health. My doctor said most people like that only last 2-4 years.
Then he just died one night in the middle of the night. A nurse had checked on him not too long before and he was fine, and he just died. We didn't do an autopsy; we figured he'd been through enough insults. My doctor said it was probably a pulmonary embolism.
My parents spent the summer (he died in May, this was actually the 10th anniversary)in the house where my dad grew up, then they moved there that October. (A seemingly fast decision, although my dad had always wanted to retire there.) My mom died in a car crash 6 weeks after they moved in. No one knows what happened; no one saw it, but we think she had a stroke or maybe a heart attack. She could have needed a heart transplant but she never would have told us.
I couldn't get her to talk about it (his death), or express grief. I tried and tried and tried, and she wouldn't/couldn't. Perhaps after holding all that in for so long it would have been too overwhelming to let it all out, I don't know.
So, for all the damage my parents did to me -- and they did do a lot, a tremendous amount -- my mom never seemed to acknowledge that she still had TWO living daughters (she was always with my sister) -- they did many good things too. Even if they hadn't, after seeing what they went through, and how their hearts were ripped from their chests, I could never judge them harshly. Feel the feelings, absolutely -- but judge them, how could I? They were extraordinary examples of love and courage and tenacity as far as my brother was concerned.
My dad lived on his own, for the first time in his life, for the next 10 years. He just died last October. Of old age, I guess. There was nothing in particular wrong with him, he just dwindled away over a few months.
It's been a rough year. I lost my beloved cat, LILY, two days before he died (she was only 5 but had some sort of rare bone marrow disease); my sister & I gave my dad hospice; I lost two very dear and longstanding friends between Oct and Christmas (all of this was 10 weeks), both were young; then the pastor thing blew up in mid-January and I'm still dealing with the emotional repercussions of that (but finally turning, I think); and I lost one of my best, longtime girlfriends to cancer in April.
Phew! So I'm due for a break. And I'm so happy to say that today is the one-year anniversary of a co-worker/friend's surgery. She's only 31 but she was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer 5 years ago. Worse, they would have caught it extremely early but her OB wouldn't do an ultrasound, so by the time someone else diagnosed it the tumor was the size of a football (not kidding!) and had spread to her bowels, her colon, her bladder, and something like 12 of her lymph nodes. She went through 13 rounds of very hard-hitting chemo.
But she beat it!! The surgery was the final thing, she's been well so far and is considered in remission. Nothing could make me happier. She really beat it against all odds. There's your miracle for the day. I am SOOOOOOOOOO happy!
Well, that was a long reply. Thanks for your forbearance.
Love to all,
LC
