When I started on my journey five years ago, it was with great excitement and anxiety. I found many turns along the way that seemed to help me understand who I am, love the people in my life a little bit more, and find the good in many awful situations. The one we find ourselves in as a family today is not one of those.
I have struggled in the last few hours to center myself. The death of a family member is hard, and when families are fractured by mental illness and estrangement over a period of time, the pain cuts through the layers of resentment and problems over the years, making all wounds fresh. Nobody is to blame in any of this. I return to my belief that we make our own way through life with free will. We chose our path through the minute decisions we make daily. When a person chooses to end his or her life, I can only find intense sadness and a sense of loss of human potential. Not blame, though I do believe it is a decision made in a moment of incomprehensible pain and suffering. Unfortunately, when that decision is made, there is a large ripple effect in the world. It would be one thing if a suicide ended in one life. It doesn't - it affects many, many lives, changing them forever. The selfishness of such an act impacts others at the pace of a level 5 hurricane. The emotional toll and destruction left behind is often hard to estimate, and of course, the person responsible doesn't have to live with the repercussions of such an act. Perhaps I sound a bit angry. I am not sure what I am.
There is no silver lining, no lesson to be learned. Nothing but heavy sadness sits on me as I write this. An occasional streak of anger tells me my own will to live fights through the weight of the moment. It may even be a bit of rage flamed by the edge of exhaustion, and yet, I know we will get through this. It is, as my husband stated, a very sad thing that we (he and I) will step over this mess and go on with our lives. How the family will mend is another question altogether.
The fact of the matter is, the adults will be fine. The next generation is the one who will suffer. Perhaps these are the ones who have or will suffer the sins of their relatives. In particular, his children are the ones who have suffered into their early adulthood. Nothing we have done or can do in the future will ever change what they have endured over the past fifteen years. Healing, moving on, may or may not be possible, as the extended family must face the old fears and pain from the past, all stripped raw again. It is a Greek tragedy at its finest - only this is the life we are living. ///
I keep thinking "How did we get here? To today? To this point of no return?" But there are no answers. We went back and rehashed and replayed moments, critical points of disagreement, and still, we missed the signs. We missed something, somewhere along the way that might have changed the final act. And though we missed it, I also know it doesn't matter and probably never did. We did the best we could in the moments we were given. We dealt with so much more, tried so hard to change the course of his life, and yet, he rebounded to his illness like a sturdy rubber band. It was a shell game we were never going to win.
If anything, I suppose we need to find ways to become advocates of helping those who are mentally ill. Families are ill-equipped to meet the needs of adults with mental health issues, and are particularly handicapped in getting them the help they need. It is more intense when the person won't accept help. At that point, there is nothing to be done by family members. Forced treatment is not an option. Saddest part of all of this? We were told nothing could be done until he was a danger to himself or others. We didn't have the necessary evidence for that. We sure do now - and it is too late.
The pain I feel is for the others in this clan and it is almost crushing in its enormity. Even though healing is what the extended family needs, I don't know how or when that will happen. I don't know if it is something that can be planned for. I am not sure what part Mark & I will play in all of this. I just know today fighting the sadness is not possible. I will let sadness sit with me here until I figure out what else I should be doing with it.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Cuddling the Furries
When I was young I wanted to be a veterinarian. I wanted to care and gather up as many animals as I could to make the world a better place. I attempted 'fixing' birds, got a kitten, and I think we had some turtles, if not a few fish. It was through those experiences that I realized being a veterinarian was a difficult thing - involved blood, guts, and emotional choices I didn't like all that much. I never lost my passion and wonder for all the creatures of the planet - though I do have some specific preferences for the ones I choose to live with! So while I was cuddling my creatures today, I thought about all the lessons of life through our contact with animals.
I read in the paper this week about a pitbull who had to be taken into the pound to be watched for rabies. The owner had not kept the dog contained, and he viciously attacked and mauled two women. I have nothing against the breed of pitbulls, but I have everything to say about the people who kept this dog. This animal was obviously not socialized properly, trained, or cared for in a way that other human beings would be safe around it. The owners failed the dog, and this happens far too often. The lesson here is that we are the product of our socialization - and brutality begets violence. We have to be responsible for our actions, as they have consequences that ripple far beyond the walls of our homes.
Another story on the news was a rescue of a small poodle mix with her five puppies. They were abandoned on the side of the road, and the pups were probably only about 2 weeks old. It astounds me that anyone could take an animal in that condition, and simply decide to let nature take her course. The mother dog was not born in the wild, and yet was suddenly placed in a situation where she could not care for herself, let alone her offspring. The cruelty amazes me, but we turn our backs on human beings the same way. The lesson here is perhaps open your eyes to those among us who need a helping hand. It would do us good to help others in need, furry or not.
We live with three furries - one is a smart border collie mix named Max, a black and white 'tuxedo' cat named Ike, and a tiny 13 year old long-haired 'blue' with hypothyroid disease. Each of them are rescues, and each have a list of needs...long walks, measured food, and medications can sometimes seem to fill a day. Meeting each of their needs may seem crazy, but the lesson is that the world is not about us individually. There are other beings depending on us for their life, their happiness, and their well-being. Giving back to them daily keeps us centered.
And beautifully, these furry creatures give back in so many ways. Max is a true guard dog and though his barking annoys us at times, he is much better than an alarm system. (Although I am not sure I need to know when Romeo the cat wanders through Archie & Jane's yard.) He does lots of tricks, loves children, and smiles at about anyone he meets on the street. He cuddles as much as a 60 pound BIG dog can, and I always appreciate how he nuzzles me daily, just as he did as a puppy, placing his face as close to my neck as he can, and then pushing his 'smart bump' into my chest to get as close as he can. It is like having a big furry bear hug! His lesson is to love with exuberance daily with abandon!
Ike the cat is a character. She fancies herself to be Max's companion (to his distress) and works at winning his affections in a daily routine of rolling around beside him and touching his face with her paws. Though he sometimes plays hard to get, he will eventually give in and nuzzle her. I suppose the lesson here is that if you keep at it long enough, and roll around enough, you can get what you want...
Neither of our cats are fond of people like Max is. As a matter of fact, they will disappear at the sound of a voice outside of the immediate family. Where they go is a mystery, but Guyton will come look around a corner to check things out after an hour or so. Ike doesn't come out until the coast is clear of strangers. The lesson? Be wary of strangers, and take your time to feel comfortable in new situations.
Guyton has special needs, as the thyroid medication is necessary unless we have her go through surgery. She is barely 4 pounds, and has always been small. We coerce her into eating with small bits of butter on her food, or what we refer to as kitty-crack. She also has to put up with Ike's antics - which include jumping on top of her from the dresser, from the stairs, from around a corner, from behind a chair...and when Guyton has had enough she hisses and bats until Ike finally slinks away. Confront your enemies when you have had enough, and be insistent that you are done with the nonsense. A great lesson for all of us.
Best of all? The mornings when the dog is sleeping across (read: on top) of my feet, Guyton is stretched out full length sidled up to my legs, and Ike is curled up on the pillow. I know at these moments I should get up and start the day, but there is so much furry warmth and sweetness next to me, I can't help myself! I just have to snuggle in and cuddle my furry friends...the day can wait 5 more minutes. Yes, that is the best lesson of all!
I read in the paper this week about a pitbull who had to be taken into the pound to be watched for rabies. The owner had not kept the dog contained, and he viciously attacked and mauled two women. I have nothing against the breed of pitbulls, but I have everything to say about the people who kept this dog. This animal was obviously not socialized properly, trained, or cared for in a way that other human beings would be safe around it. The owners failed the dog, and this happens far too often. The lesson here is that we are the product of our socialization - and brutality begets violence. We have to be responsible for our actions, as they have consequences that ripple far beyond the walls of our homes.
Another story on the news was a rescue of a small poodle mix with her five puppies. They were abandoned on the side of the road, and the pups were probably only about 2 weeks old. It astounds me that anyone could take an animal in that condition, and simply decide to let nature take her course. The mother dog was not born in the wild, and yet was suddenly placed in a situation where she could not care for herself, let alone her offspring. The cruelty amazes me, but we turn our backs on human beings the same way. The lesson here is perhaps open your eyes to those among us who need a helping hand. It would do us good to help others in need, furry or not.
We live with three furries - one is a smart border collie mix named Max, a black and white 'tuxedo' cat named Ike, and a tiny 13 year old long-haired 'blue' with hypothyroid disease. Each of them are rescues, and each have a list of needs...long walks, measured food, and medications can sometimes seem to fill a day. Meeting each of their needs may seem crazy, but the lesson is that the world is not about us individually. There are other beings depending on us for their life, their happiness, and their well-being. Giving back to them daily keeps us centered.
And beautifully, these furry creatures give back in so many ways. Max is a true guard dog and though his barking annoys us at times, he is much better than an alarm system. (Although I am not sure I need to know when Romeo the cat wanders through Archie & Jane's yard.) He does lots of tricks, loves children, and smiles at about anyone he meets on the street. He cuddles as much as a 60 pound BIG dog can, and I always appreciate how he nuzzles me daily, just as he did as a puppy, placing his face as close to my neck as he can, and then pushing his 'smart bump' into my chest to get as close as he can. It is like having a big furry bear hug! His lesson is to love with exuberance daily with abandon!
Ike the cat is a character. She fancies herself to be Max's companion (to his distress) and works at winning his affections in a daily routine of rolling around beside him and touching his face with her paws. Though he sometimes plays hard to get, he will eventually give in and nuzzle her. I suppose the lesson here is that if you keep at it long enough, and roll around enough, you can get what you want...
Neither of our cats are fond of people like Max is. As a matter of fact, they will disappear at the sound of a voice outside of the immediate family. Where they go is a mystery, but Guyton will come look around a corner to check things out after an hour or so. Ike doesn't come out until the coast is clear of strangers. The lesson? Be wary of strangers, and take your time to feel comfortable in new situations.
Guyton has special needs, as the thyroid medication is necessary unless we have her go through surgery. She is barely 4 pounds, and has always been small. We coerce her into eating with small bits of butter on her food, or what we refer to as kitty-crack. She also has to put up with Ike's antics - which include jumping on top of her from the dresser, from the stairs, from around a corner, from behind a chair...and when Guyton has had enough she hisses and bats until Ike finally slinks away. Confront your enemies when you have had enough, and be insistent that you are done with the nonsense. A great lesson for all of us.
Best of all? The mornings when the dog is sleeping across (read: on top) of my feet, Guyton is stretched out full length sidled up to my legs, and Ike is curled up on the pillow. I know at these moments I should get up and start the day, but there is so much furry warmth and sweetness next to me, I can't help myself! I just have to snuggle in and cuddle my furry friends...the day can wait 5 more minutes. Yes, that is the best lesson of all!
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Buying the 'Forever' House
Buying a house is probably best for those who are psychological thrill-seekers. The rest of us work hard at being informed consumers, but truth be told, we are probably reacting in a manner deeply ingrained in each of us. It is a difficult process wrought with emotional and cognitive dissonances that are often difficult to weed through. I had forgotten some of that in looking at homes with my husband, but today I was reminded!
First, let me say, we have been looking for over a year. We started with my first trip to Greenville, when I went to see a few homes, and toured neighborhoods. We came back in May (yes over a year ago) but were not comfortable buying a home without selling ours. So we looked and waited, and watched, and looked and waited, and finally rented a beautiful home close to the university when our house didn't sell. By the time we were fortunate enough to sell, the holidays were upon us and we let that time slip on by. As an early spring rolled around, we dipped our proverbial toes back in the water and then just jumped right in! So here we are, nearly sixty houses later, with what we have determined might just be our forever home.
The problem of course, is that no place, no home, is perfect. But when you have been through as many houses in the area as we have, you begin to determine what you really want to have, what you think you can live with, and all those other emotional needs and ideas about money that seep into the cracks of every decision you try to make. The house we chose seemed to also chose us..silly as it sounds. My husband wanted to live in two stories again...check. He wanted a garden space, which this one has in droves. We needed a fenced backyard, and a nice, big, open kitchen where the family can gather. We really loved the four bedrooms we had in our last home, and hoped to find that again. We did. We wanted at least two full baths. A separate laundry room. My husband wanted an enclosed porch for plants and morning coffee, and a garage was something we have missed sorely over the last five years. All checked off!
I have a red plate we called the "special" plate that has the statement "You are special today!" emblazoned across the lip. We used it with our kids as they were growing up, and as we stepped into that kitchen, there was one just like it! Each room we stepped into offered something special that seemed to fit into the way we like to live in our homes. The downside? It is 6 miles out of town and I really wanted to walk. I don't think I will be walking 6 miles to school anytime soon! Now I have to battle the traffic of a morning commute, and I have all 8AM classes next term...hmmm...but when we went back to see the house, I just couldn't imagine it really bothering me. The thought of walking into that house at the end of a long day felt right. So we made the dive!
Sounds like a love story right? Well, my husband and I have totally different ideas of what negotiating and buying a house are. We approach life the same way. I react to things almost on an instinct of what I like, what I want, what I do. I fall hard and fast and stay loyal to my decisions. I err on finding the shiny, the clean, the clear, the glorious in the moment, and he is very cautious, examining every negative thought he can come up with as if he is paid to do so. Example: He actually voiced a concern that IF it would get too cold for too long, the screened porch MIGHT not be enough protection for the delicate olive tree, which would mean he could lose the tree or it MIGHT lose all its leaves. I just looked at him with "Whaaa???" all over my face. I mean, who thinks of that? So I said, "Couldn't you bring it into the garage?" To which he said, "Oh, well, probably that would work." Me: "Isn't that what we did in Indiana? Brought it inside?" Husband: "Yes, but it is much colder there." Me: "I am really confused. SO we are buying the house for Olive Tree comfort?" I was really concerned we were going to have to attend to each and every single plant species before we could agree on the house.
And so it went. Every good thing I found, he found three negatives. And here is the kicker. He does the same thing EVERY time we buy a house! We fought like cats and dogs over our last two purchases - the first, over a house I loved, the second over the one he loved - and yes, I was pushing him because he said he loved it! You can imagine if HE loved it, and I gave in, that when he pulled back, I went a little, well...ballistic might be the word. This morning I was so mad at him, I took the longest, hardest power walk I have had in a while. I think the dog enjoyed it, and it worked off some steam. And the two of us did finally agree to a number to counter the counter-offer.
I suppose our outlook on homes (my mom is a superb homemaker and taught home management - his mom was a terrific homemaker as well) and on money (our parents came from agriculture, grew up with large families and little money having to work hard for what they had). Their homes have always been warm, welcoming, and beautiful places to be. And we feel your home is a reflection of who you are, and we struggled to figure that part out. I mean, am I a brick ranch in the city or am I a two-story colonial in the country? Am I a fixer-upper or a ready-made dream? What we can afford, and what we want to spend also comes into play. I want to push it, he wants to save it. I figure things out to the penny, he wants to pinch every penny! We simply roll as we did as children, teens, young adults, I suppose. So he digs in his heels and refuses to negotiate, while I prod and plead and try to get a bit of movement from our side. I have to admit, the dissonance in our approaches seems to work well for the deal we get. I only push hard when I am SOLD on what we should do and that seems to be the only 'giving' he does. So we end up with a fair deal, and when he is done moaning about the expenditure and bills, I think he will really enjoy it. I know I will! But the process? I would rather not, thank you. This is why it is now to be known as the 'forever' house!
I probably have deeper observations on all of this, but we close and move one month from today - gotta go pack!
First, let me say, we have been looking for over a year. We started with my first trip to Greenville, when I went to see a few homes, and toured neighborhoods. We came back in May (yes over a year ago) but were not comfortable buying a home without selling ours. So we looked and waited, and watched, and looked and waited, and finally rented a beautiful home close to the university when our house didn't sell. By the time we were fortunate enough to sell, the holidays were upon us and we let that time slip on by. As an early spring rolled around, we dipped our proverbial toes back in the water and then just jumped right in! So here we are, nearly sixty houses later, with what we have determined might just be our forever home.
The problem of course, is that no place, no home, is perfect. But when you have been through as many houses in the area as we have, you begin to determine what you really want to have, what you think you can live with, and all those other emotional needs and ideas about money that seep into the cracks of every decision you try to make. The house we chose seemed to also chose us..silly as it sounds. My husband wanted to live in two stories again...check. He wanted a garden space, which this one has in droves. We needed a fenced backyard, and a nice, big, open kitchen where the family can gather. We really loved the four bedrooms we had in our last home, and hoped to find that again. We did. We wanted at least two full baths. A separate laundry room. My husband wanted an enclosed porch for plants and morning coffee, and a garage was something we have missed sorely over the last five years. All checked off!
I have a red plate we called the "special" plate that has the statement "You are special today!" emblazoned across the lip. We used it with our kids as they were growing up, and as we stepped into that kitchen, there was one just like it! Each room we stepped into offered something special that seemed to fit into the way we like to live in our homes. The downside? It is 6 miles out of town and I really wanted to walk. I don't think I will be walking 6 miles to school anytime soon! Now I have to battle the traffic of a morning commute, and I have all 8AM classes next term...hmmm...but when we went back to see the house, I just couldn't imagine it really bothering me. The thought of walking into that house at the end of a long day felt right. So we made the dive!
Sounds like a love story right? Well, my husband and I have totally different ideas of what negotiating and buying a house are. We approach life the same way. I react to things almost on an instinct of what I like, what I want, what I do. I fall hard and fast and stay loyal to my decisions. I err on finding the shiny, the clean, the clear, the glorious in the moment, and he is very cautious, examining every negative thought he can come up with as if he is paid to do so. Example: He actually voiced a concern that IF it would get too cold for too long, the screened porch MIGHT not be enough protection for the delicate olive tree, which would mean he could lose the tree or it MIGHT lose all its leaves. I just looked at him with "Whaaa???" all over my face. I mean, who thinks of that? So I said, "Couldn't you bring it into the garage?" To which he said, "Oh, well, probably that would work." Me: "Isn't that what we did in Indiana? Brought it inside?" Husband: "Yes, but it is much colder there." Me: "I am really confused. SO we are buying the house for Olive Tree comfort?" I was really concerned we were going to have to attend to each and every single plant species before we could agree on the house.
And so it went. Every good thing I found, he found three negatives. And here is the kicker. He does the same thing EVERY time we buy a house! We fought like cats and dogs over our last two purchases - the first, over a house I loved, the second over the one he loved - and yes, I was pushing him because he said he loved it! You can imagine if HE loved it, and I gave in, that when he pulled back, I went a little, well...ballistic might be the word. This morning I was so mad at him, I took the longest, hardest power walk I have had in a while. I think the dog enjoyed it, and it worked off some steam. And the two of us did finally agree to a number to counter the counter-offer.
I suppose our outlook on homes (my mom is a superb homemaker and taught home management - his mom was a terrific homemaker as well) and on money (our parents came from agriculture, grew up with large families and little money having to work hard for what they had). Their homes have always been warm, welcoming, and beautiful places to be. And we feel your home is a reflection of who you are, and we struggled to figure that part out. I mean, am I a brick ranch in the city or am I a two-story colonial in the country? Am I a fixer-upper or a ready-made dream? What we can afford, and what we want to spend also comes into play. I want to push it, he wants to save it. I figure things out to the penny, he wants to pinch every penny! We simply roll as we did as children, teens, young adults, I suppose. So he digs in his heels and refuses to negotiate, while I prod and plead and try to get a bit of movement from our side. I have to admit, the dissonance in our approaches seems to work well for the deal we get. I only push hard when I am SOLD on what we should do and that seems to be the only 'giving' he does. So we end up with a fair deal, and when he is done moaning about the expenditure and bills, I think he will really enjoy it. I know I will! But the process? I would rather not, thank you. This is why it is now to be known as the 'forever' house!
I probably have deeper observations on all of this, but we close and move one month from today - gotta go pack!
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