Shit, Shave and Senseless

I shift my weight from one foot to the other and back again. The monologue in my head repeats on a loop:

“Take slow, deep breaths.” I breathe in, hold, release without sound.

“Look at him, not at the ceiling.” His skin lays wrinkled and loose on fragile bones. He strings together sounds to express what's going on inside his head, unintelligible bits of crooked puzzle pieces.

“Don’t cry. Don’t cry.” My father, who I once thought huge and larger than anyone I else I know, can't touch his feet to the floor as he sits in his blue, microfiber covered recliner. The chair occupies the middle of my living room, it's plush mountainous bulges contrasting sharply to my orange hardwood floors.

I’m late for work. My canvas bag, stuffed with my journal, tablet, a book on writing, my smart phone and a bottle of seltzer, digs into my left shoulder.

“Bathroom?” I’ve said it five times already, but number six lights up his face. He wants to know if he can go in the bathroom to get ready for the day. Shit, shave and shower. He needs to know explicitly if he can go into the bathroom and do his thing and I forgot to tell him before I headed for the door to leave.

Three hours before the bus comes to get him, he perches on the front edge of his chair, his body clenched, hands folded, fingers laced, wrists touching. I see him in grays, a still from the Dust Bowl during the thirties, lines of fatigue etched in his face, eyes haunted.

“You can use the bathroom.” I smile. I nod.

He rises, shuffles his feet into his gray slippers, shuffles across the room. The same path he shuffled yesterday. Routine matters. He carries a box of tissues in his left hand, tucked under his arm. He takes them into the bathroom. The door clicks shut. The razor buzzes.

I walk out the door crying.

Lasting Love

~ photo taken by my sister-in-law, Karen ~

[pictured: Frieda (80) her son, Jim and her husband, Jim (83)]

On September 2, 2014, my parents will have been married 60 years. On their recent trip to Germany and Austria with my brother, Jim and his wife, Karen (in celebration of my mother's 80th birthday) my parents renewed their vows in Mirabell Palace where they originally got married in 1954. 

These are the words I wrote for the Justice of the Peace to say at the ceremony:

When you came together from different worlds sixty years ago, you had no idea what lay ahead for either of you. You vowed to love, honor and cherish each other through all things; to walk together on an adventure of living. During those years, you have weathered many storms and basked in countless blessings. You have stood strong, side by side, in joy and sorrow, defeat and triumph, laughter and tears, never breaking your pledges.

As you come full circle to the place where you began your walk, hand in hand, you can stand proud before God and your family knowing that you fulfilled your promises to one another and shown us all true dedication, commitment and never-ending love.

Oh! My Pa-Pa

~ click image to make biggerer ~

Today is my Father's 83rd birthday.

He is the definition of what it means to be a man.

He is a dedicated 

husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather

 - and countryman - he loves that hat.

He has worked hard all his life, 

sometimes at two and three jobs.

He exemplifies FAMILY.

He has always been there with support, 

even when he didn't understand 

what the hell I was doing.

Happy Birthday,

James Arthur Kilmer

We love you!

THANK a VET

~ click image to make biggerer ~

Oh, My Papa - Happy Un-Birthday

Happy 82nd Un-Birthday to my Father. 

The man by whom all other men are measured.

Here he is at the park today 

with his two great-grandsons.

Optimism R Us

* journal post - comments closed *

Yesterday was a good day. Today looks like it will be better.

I had a very pleasant breakfast with a friend Tuesday morning at a diner I had not been to before. I want to go to new places and do new things. It’s good for the soul. We got caught up on our lives. I am so self centered that I was astonished at how much things change for other people. It was quite eye-opening. I really do need to get over myself.

It was so much easier to get my word count for CAMP NaNo. I wrote 1,699 words in under two hours. Monday it took me almost eight hours to get the same amount.

QV was up and about. He’s eating again. This stomach virus going around sure is a mean one. He should be going back to work tonight. Here’s hoping.

I got caught up on all of my reading for Holly Lisle’s How To Think Sideways. It’s a writing course I am doing. It’s also a life course. There are all kinds of techniques that are applicable across the board. It’s helping with my procrastination and all kinds of bad thinking habits. If you decide to check it out and get it, I think there’s a referral program, so please tell them I sent you.

Anyway, I read through to Lesson 4 of the new Ultra. Did all of the new Quick Fixes (which are short, fun and very useful) and got my worksheets ready to work on for today. And I am ready to start Lesson 5 which opens for me today. Quick Fix #3 already gave me 844 words towards today’s goal so I am halfway done there. I might even be able to move ahead since I will be busy this weekend.

The MM will be here Saturday and then on Sunday, I will have my whole family over for my father’s non-birthday. He will be eighty-two and he does not want anymore birthdays. I told everyone to wrap his gifts in Christmas paper and we will sing Jingle Bells instead of Happy Birthday. He has become obsessed with gambling in his old age so we will all give him scratch off lottery tickets and we will do some betting on Sunday’s car race. I’m making pork schnitzel for dinner. Schnitzel is his favorite food. It’s a lot of work but hey I’m not working so I have the time.

Oh, I almost forgot. Fiona, my muse, gave me the “original” name of my demon/god in tSLBoM last night while I was sleeping. I’m not going to tell you what it is but she was quite clever and it feels very right. Fiona is the best. She’s a small garden fairy (small enough to fit in pockets and ride around in my bag.) She has strawberry blonde hair which varies in length depending on her mood. She has green eyes and creamy white skin. She has green gossamer wings that change color as they move in the light. She smells like cinnamon and cloves. I had pushed her away for many years but she has taken pity n me and come back.

532

The Sky is Falling

* comments closed on journal posts *

Snow. We have a snow storm bearing down on us again. This one may even produce the amount of snow forecast. Previous storms were nothing to us. It’s 07.24. The clouds are heavy and large flakes are falling. So far the ground is just wet.

QV is sick. Has been since Saturday morning. He’s not a very good sick person. He doesn’t listen. I have to browbeat him into taking his Airborne and cold medicine to stop him coughing and help him sleep. He felt better Sunday afternoon and actually ate something. I wonder if I brought something home from the hospital. I have a sore throat but mine didn’t start until during the night last night while I was sleeping. I’m going to say he brought something home. It’s all QV’s fault.

Saturday night around 22.30, my father couldn’t pee. His bladder got distended and he was in pain. My parents did not call us. At 04.30, my father drove himself and my mother to the emergency room. They called my brother at 06.00. Oh, their heater went out during the night, too. My father got a new catheter. Doctors said there was a clot in his urethra. They all went home. My brother got them settled, had the heater man out, heater fixed. Then my father had two “accidents” so my brother feared that he had another clot. Back to the emergency room. The balloon around the catheter was only inflated one inch when it should have been inflated three inches. I’ll be calling my parents in about a half hour to see how they made out.

I drove myself crazy last week trying to think of the word “routine.” I have dysnomia, so I often have trouble thinking of the exact word I want for things. It’s why I don’t go on Jeopardy. Between that and my dyslexia, writing can be a challenge and time consuming. The dysnomia is another reason I am not a very good conversationalist. People get bored when every other word is thingamajig or doodgmahicky. Did you know that they are actual words? Spell check recognized them.

My routine got knock completely out of whack last week and I was not happy. I just got done setting it up and had plans to follow it to some successful writing last Monday. Instead, I spent the week in and out of the hospital and doctor's office. Maybe I can start over today.

At the bottom of my posts, I had the star rating system. Someone gave my post entitled “RRRrrrrrrrr!” one star which means “I hate it.” I was so obsessed over that one star all weekend. I couldn’t figure out who gave it or why they hated it. Because I couldn’t get it out of my mind, I took the star rating out. It didn’t seem very helpful and I refuse to allow myself to be tortured by someone in a hood without the balls to say they didn’t like it to my face.

I will never go to the grocery store on a Sunday again. Those people were vicious. The place was packed and they all acted like they were the only ones in the store.

I think it’s time to re-read the Harry Potter series. I do it every couple of years. It’s like visiting a friend you know so well you don’t have to speak. You look each other in the eyes and laugh at a shared joke.

Revenge vs Karma

* comments on journal posts closed *

I had revenge dreams last night. Actually they were more like dreams of Karma. I have thoughts of revenge all of the time but I never act on them as they usually backfire. I believe in Karma. People get what they deserve. i may never know about it because it can take a while and people are good at hiding things. It’s like those perfect families you see on the news who are on the news because they had a severe meltdown.

In my dreams last night the Man was caught out in all of his misdeeds and everyone told him he got caught because he got rid of his voice of reason.

A packeted mall and a huge maze like castle featured as settings. I love when big stone castles are in my dreams. It is so much fun running around in them hiding and escaping from the bad guys trying to get me. I had a hot, fun boy friend too which was a new twist and one I liked. I’m going to request this feature in future dreams.

The vendor I spoke of yesterday who tracked me down at home called me to let me know how much he misses working with me. He told me what a great job I always did. He offered to be a reference when I start seriously looking for work.

I talked to another vendor I worked with who offered to keep her ears open and refer me to any of her clients that may need my skills.

These folks were always very helpful and have made me feel very good.

My father came home from the hospital yesterday. I got him and my mother all settled in, gt his prescription, her bleach and left to the sounds of my mother bitching at my father. Everything is getting back to normal. This morning I have to take them to his doctor’s appointment at 09.00 to get his catheter removed (hopefully) and then maybe my life can get back on track. I’ve been making notes in between trips to the hospital and my mother complaining about my large purse and not paying attention to her but that’s not particularly satisfying. I need several hours of uninterrupted writing time or I may burst into flames.

April is a week away and I am beginning to have a nervous breakdown whenever I think about doing my resume and picking a new job. I am getting so much pressure from people to go get a “job.” Few people understood my need to take March to regroup. And it turns out I did not have as much time as I thought I would have as great chunks of time were used for family obligations to which I could not say no. No wonder artists make such poor family members. You have to be really selfish to get anything done. I have to be more selfish. I want a writing career, damn it. I do. I really, really do!

503

Good Deeds, Punished

* comments closed on journal posts *

I got yelled at in the grocery store yesterday. I took my mother shopping in between visiting my father in the hospital. I offered to take her list and do the shopping for her but she wanted to do it herself. Apparently, only she can pick out a proper head of cauliflower. I was allowed to track down the wax paper that was on sale. It appears my mother was right to question my abilities because I couldn’t find the damn stuff. I stopped at the customer service desk. The store employee was already waiting on someone so I waited patiently. I hate when people just walk up and think it’s ok to “just ask one question” while a person is busy. I waited my turn. But then the employee asked me if she could help me, so I asked her about the wax paper. the man she was helping first YELLED at me that she was already helping him. Not one to be outdone, I immediately YELLED back at him that I was answering the question I was asked. I did not butt in. The employee said she could do two things at once to him. He said he was in a hurry, all snotty like. The employee never paused in doing the task for him. I kept staring at him until he left. He wouldn’t look at me. Score a major victory for me!

Going into the store, I had to remove a long piece of toilet paper that was hanging out of the back of my mother’s pants.

My father insisted he was going home yesterday. He did not. The fluid in his bag was still too pink. He was so sure he was going home, he cancelled his dinner. He refused to call the kitchen and reorder it, so I did it for him. All of the information he told my mother was wrong. First I thought it might be a mix up during the translation process through my mother but when I got to the hospital he told me the same information. He insisted he had no catheter currently and that they would put it in Friday in the doctor’s office. The reverse is true. There was improvement in his fluid function yesterday just not enough. Since he’s 82, the urologist just wants to be sure the danger of blood clots has passed before releasing him. I think he’ll be able to come home today.

I lost my mother in the hospital. I dropped her off at the door so she wouldn’t have to walk so far. She decided to go up to my father’s room without me. I get to the room and she’s not there. Off I go looking for her. She had gotten in an elevator with front and back doors and gone out the back which takes you to the labs. Her sense of direction was never really that good but now she really gets turned around.

One of the vendors I used at work called my house and left a message asking me to call him. I wonder what that’s about. As pathetic as it sounds, not knowing kept me awake last night.

533

Blue Skies

* comments closed on journal posts *

I found my NEO. I am surprised. I have to finish my office/studio. I am a secret 2nd story hoarder. It’s a place where I put things when I just don’t know what to do with it or I’m too lazy to put it away properly. Boxes and bags of material and craft items and books and books and books. It’s also storage for The Snoogs’ things. Her items include lots of books, too. No one QV is afraid the ceiling will come down on us. If they can do a whole really messy house in one weekend on the Hoarders, I should be able to easily do it this weekend. There are things up there I completely forgot I have. I could do about 500 projects without having to buy anything new.

I feel a tickle in my throat when I woke up this morning. If I get sick from all of my trips to the hospital I will be pissed. My father thinks he’ll be going home today. He told my brother that two different doctors told him he’d be leaving. Since he still had his catheter in at 15.00 yesterday, I’m not so sure. He has a tendency to hear what he wants to hear. He’ll be 82 next month and mostly acts like my three year old MM. He needs to come home soon though. All of these trips to the hospital are wearing my mother out. She’ll be 79 next month and is riddle with arthritis and can’t really walk much. Her mental faculties are so hot either. She claims my father has a mild case of alzheimer's but she shows more signs of it. They both still live in their own home together and usually do very well. My father still drives. They just have trouble when they get tired yet they sometimes refuse to rest.

The rain finally stopped. Today it is clear and sunny but very cold.

The Codes is itching again and we will have to take him back to the vet for his itchy pills. He did go about two or three months without itchy. And it’s been a year since he had problems with his ears. It is hard to believe that just last year his other vet was trying to guilt us into cutting his ear canals and rerouting them to “cure” him. His new vet gave him a different medicine and we haven’t had a problem since. The thousands of dollars and hours of time and angst we spent before just pisses me off. I am so glad we got a second opinion.

Game of Thrones is back on next week I can’t wait. The previews look so good. I am re-reading book one, Fire and Ice.

I am trying to figure out how I can write while doing other things.

My mother complained the other day about my reading while we were endlessly waiting at the hospital. She said it was rude. I should be talking to her. I had to remind her that I’m not much of a chatter. If she had anything to say to me I would participate in the conversation (I can read and write while being interrupted no problem.) She said since we are mother/daughter we should be able to talk without problem. I said one would think after all these years, she’d accept who I am and stop trying to change me. I’m not holding my breath.

577

Best Laid Plans

* comments closed on journal posts *

I make plans and I am always surprised when the universe thumbs its nose at me.

My father was to have a prostate procedure this morning. I checked with my parents several times to see if they wanted me to take them but they insisted I did not need to go. According to them, it was only to take a couple of hours and he would be home. If I could just call them at 04.30 to make sure they were awake and up, that would be more than enough. No problem.

Since The Snoogs, The Pirate and The MM drove to Florida last night I didn’t sleep well. I woke up at 02.00 and drifted in and out until my alarm went off and I called my parents. They were up and about so I laid back down.

Just as I fell asleep at 06.15, they called. Their car would not start and they were fifteen minutes late for my father’s appointment. I woke up QV. We got dressed and out the door in ten minutes. Fifteen minutes later in fornt of my parent’s house, I got out of our truck and my father got in and they were gone.

Not fifteen minutes after that QV was back. My father did not want QV to go in with him. Problem was, now no one knew anything. I had QV take me back to the hospital. I went in and my father was still waiting. It’s now 07.15. My father said they weren’t taking him up for his procedure until 11.30. That didn’t sound right. When his intake nurse came I found out that he was due to go up at 07.30 and it would be several hours by the time he’d be back in recovery. So I waited. He went up on time. I left my number and QV took me back to my parents house where we waited for the hospital to call.

In the meantime, QV took out their battery (the original from when the bought the car) got a new one and put it in. Good to go on that. QV left to do other things. The surgeon called around 09.00 to say all was well but they were going to keep him overnight because they wanted to put in a catheter to make sure he wouldn’t get blood clots because they ended up taking out more tissue than they originally planned.

In between all of this I talked to The Snoogs to keep her awake. They drove straight through so she was getting sleepy towards the end of her turn driving. They left around 20.30 Sunday night and they arrived at their hotel at 15.00 this afternoon.

My mother and I went back to the hospital at 12.30. My father finally got to his room at 13.30. We talked to his nurse and got all kinds of information and by 14.45 my father was falling asleep so I took my mother home.

This has finally learned me to trust my instincts. I just should have gone in the first place like I wanted to.

531

One Shot Wednesday - A Life Well Lived

Pops in a dress.

My father turned 80 on April 6th. Here is a poem I wrote for him:

When a man looks to judge the successes of his life,
He looks to the things he has gathered about him;
He looks to the things he calls his own;
He looks to the things he has created.
He looks around and he sees,
He has planted the seeds
Of his posterity,
Of his legacy,
Of himself:
His children,
His grand-children,
His great-grand-children.
And in their lives,
He has built generations where
He sees his eyes and dimples in some
He sees his mannerisms, hears his laugh in others
He sees himself stretching grandly on into the future
He sees his life is good; he sees he has done good work.
When a man looks to take his measure,
He sees he is loved.

Dedicated to my father, a man whose family is everything to him, on his 80th birthday.

The tough guy on the left.

Share an original poem on One Shot Wednesdays.

Hosted by One Stop Poetry

Merry Meet and Blessed Be

Sensational Haiku Wednesday - Fathers

fathers’ influence

deeply, strongly, bad or good

building the future

My father, 78 and his 2nd great-grandson (my grandson) 4 days old.

Hosted by Jenn @ You Know…that blog?

      

White Trash Weekend

Four generations of one family in an RV for the weekend in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey. Need I say more?

My father turned 77 on Sunday, April 6th. We will be taking him for a NASCAR weekend to Dover International Raceway end of May. Tickets for Sunday’s race at the Start/Finish line, row six: lots of beer and red meat. His favorite driver is Jeff Gordan, who drives car 24 not 45, like The Dip, yours truly, put on his Birthday card.

The limerick for my father:

It’s possible that Jeff could win
At the race where you haven’t yet been.
He could make your day
Special in a birthday way,
As long as his car doesn’t spin.