Wading through It

There is a quiet and fierce storm raging inside of me so I am going to do what I tell my daughter to do when she is rendered speechless due to her emotions: I am going to use my words as best I can.

Lilacs are blooming all over town, each one serving as a reminder of my Grandma Joanne who passed away this last December. I have known all along that I was not done grieving, I don't know that I ever will, her absence has hit me hard. This woman was foundational in the development of who I am and what I value in life. She had a gigantic lilac bush in her side yard that my cousin Stephen and I used to use as a fort. The smell permeates the good memories from my childhood and reminds me of her embrace. Her musical voice. Her chocolate kisses.

I have not talked about her death much because it has been so painful to process. And because I feel guilty for not being there more. But I think I need to let it out, it's eating me inside. She died of sepsis (systemic blood infection) that was caused by bed sores on her back that were not taken care of. As someone who used to be a caregiver, it kills me to know who painful those are, and how slow and painful a way to die it is. At the time of her death, this woman who in life averaged 150 pounds weighed 88 pounds. Her medical records indicated that contrary to what her partner/caregiver had been telling us, she had not been to a doctor in three years. Senior and Disabled Services had tried to investigate but due to manipulation, they never made it through the front door. She entered the hospital around midnight on November 30th, hardly conscious and the infection was so bad that she couldn't speak, and could barely breathe on her own. She was gone within 12 hours. Her caregiver didn't tell them how to get a hold of us. He was barred from the room because when he entered, her heart rate and respitory rate would go through the roof. She died in a hospital room, with an off-duty nurse holding her hand because he didn't want her to die alone. We listened over the phone as the monitor flat-lined, never even being able to mutter a good-bye through the phone. The signs of malnourishment and mistreatment were so severe that her caregiver was charged on the spot. At a time when we should have been able to just sit and grieve we were dealing with police detectives and autopsy reports. When we were finally able to see her after her death, it didn't look like her. The harsh, sad face of the body in front of us was not the tender, warm, loving grandmother of my childhood. Her body was bruised from IV's that tried to save her and an autopsy that tried to answer questions. Her arthritic hands and feet were balled up. She was cold.

Last week the DA submitted a plea bargain for us to give input on before they offer it to the man that was someone she trusted, someone who was supposed to be taking care of her. While I am still trying to answer questions of my own about what I should have/could have done, and whether I feel he did this consciously, I am being asked to determine whether I think this judgement is a fair exchange for what he has done. I haven't even decided what it is I think he did do. But reading the plea bargain all my grief resurfaces and I am feeling a quiet rage inside of me for this man, who had everyone convinced we never offered help, that no one ever called to check in on him and my grandmother. He had my uncle convinced we had been out of contact so long that he didn't even know how to get a hold of us. And us the same about my uncle. He took out at least 10 credit cards in my paralyzed grandmothers name and wracked up over $30,000 of debt.

What I do know is this:
Court ordered letters of apologies and restitution in situations like this just feel really offensive. None of it will change the circumstances of her death. None of it will bring her back. It doesn't change anything, and it's not genuine. And what is money going to do? All the money he had, he stole from her. Two years of probation and 200 hours of community service in exchange for being responsible for taking someones life? Also offensive.

After spending so long trying to have compassion for someone who I would like to believe was doing the best he could, this rage is surprising and a little overwhelming. While on the one hand I would like to speak with him, hear his side, and understand and feel at least compassion for him, there is this greater part of me that wants answers. Why didn't he reach out for help? Why did he lie to us about so many things concerning her health and her care? And then there is the hurt granddaughter that just wants to yell "I WANT MY GRANDMA BACK YOU ASSHOLE!"

clouds

I think I need to dance it out or something. Maybe climb to the top of a mountain and scream? Life is fantastic, yet there is this mounting cloud of emotion building over my head. It's a bipolar cloud, one minute it's raining marshmallows of happiness and joy, the next sourness drops of angst and grump. Emily says that means it's time for another naked dance party. I am leaning towards agreement on this.

Today I got my brakes fixed for free. I love free. They started making this awful grinding noise this weekend and I got all preemptive pissy about it because I JUST had them fixed in September and it was almost $500. I had visions of passing by the garage on the bus to see my car sitting there waiting to be taken home for months because I can't afford to fix it right now. And then? Oh, hey there warranty, you are my best friend today. Shiny and new. A lesson that I need to not assume to worst, because it rarely is the worst.

I went out this weekend. I was not excited about it at the beginning of the evening because I hate the part of it where that one drunk guy won't go away(I don't mean to sound stuck up about it either, it just seems to happen in bars. And not just to me), and I was having one of those days where none of my clothes fit the way I wanted them to and then when they did, my shoes didn't look right. I hate those days. Anyways, Saturday a friends' friend and his band were playing and she said I MUST go. So I did. Because she is pretty damn great and I like having friends that live here. There was that one drunk guy, he was Australian and I didn't believe him at first, I thought he was faking the accent until he pulled out a passport to prove it to me. But overall, it was a great night. Her friend, I am totally smitten with because he is cute, sweet, and I have a weakness for guitar and bass players who can sing. We got flowers from some guy at the bar who felt bad about the Australian guy, and I got to spend the evening with awesome people. Another lesson in not being a sourpuss before the situation calls for it. I had fun. And I realized just how much I miss having close friends that live close by. I must keep cultivating that...

I keep getting whiffs of pee. If the dog peed in the house, I am going to be very put off.

I cultivate what I want and need

I am constantly amazed at the responsiveness of the Universe to my needs when I take the conscious time and effort to just recognize what they are and let them be known. Just the other day I was thinking "gosh, it would be nice to have some female friends here in town that x,y, and z." BAM! A friend from high school is back in touch and fabulous, and has fabulous friends and they are all x,y, and z, and then some. I need to remember this secret super power of mine when I am feeling down and out and sorry for myself. I create my life. It is what it is because that is what I made out of it all.

Over the last few years or more, I have put a focus on being really intentional about the people I let into my life. And this has done me much good. I have let go of some really unhealthy relationships, and made peace with situations that were beyond my control. But there are a few people that I have held close to me through out all of this because I really like the idea of them in my life, of the way it feels when they are actually present in my life. At one time, all of these people were very vital parts of my life. I couldn't differentiate between what used to be and what is now without feeling like I was disrespecting where they used to stand within my heart. This has taught me a great deal about the lengths I will go for people sometimes.

But I can only stretch so far for some of these people. Recently I realized that through my efforts to keep one particular person in my life, I have kept in my mind an idea of who we used to be around each other. And I used to be someone very different. Such as, my tendency to be a door mat to certain people. And my tendency to put ungodly amounts of effort into certain people and not enough into others. I have been done with that part of me for so long, but in failing to see the bigger picture and possibility, I have become her again around this person. I am not going to be the one that makes all the effort anymore. I am letting go of sole responsibility for maintaining these friendships so that I can free up some energy to direct to people who are capable of acting like they give a damn. And I am *really* tired of the arrogance that comes along with some people thinking that because they aren't here, my life sucks ass.

I am ready to cultivate more reciprocal relationships in my life. And I don't mean just letting people in that will give back what they are getting (even though that's cool too), but relationships that of mutual benefit and respect. I am ready for people in my life that are there throughout, not just when they are lonely or have nothing better to do. I am demanding that I treat people in my life with more respect, and I am demanding that the people in my life treat me with more as well.

This post wasn't meant to sound like an epic declaration. Just a reminder to myself that it's ok to let these people go. Because I am tired of the drama and the pain that comes with trying to keep these people around. No more fairweather friends.

My inner craft nerd

Ok. So. I am not a quilter. My mom has been going on and on for a long long while about how great she thinks quilting is and it always makes my eyes glaze over, just like budget meetings. So then the other day she mentions this quilting bee. Where you buy your fabric, sent bits to participants and they each make you a quilting block. Then they send them back and you have a whole quilts worth of blocks to put together. And then the next person sends out their fabric and on and on. Why this sounds so much more interesting than just making my own damn quilt, I have no idea. But I am so excited about it. This worried me for a moment, as everytime I throw myself into a new hobby that I cared nothing about before it is usually to avoid something in my life. SO I sat with this for abit and decided that it's really just that I love the idea that I get a little peice of something handmade from a bunch of people I know and care about, and I get to peice it together, and it keeps me warm and happy. And that I get to help create something like this for other people.

Plus, once I found this fabric, I knew I had to do it, because who can resist these twisted little love birds and bunnies?

I arrived at the young adult con this weekend feeling mildly stressed out and very distant. I have so much work to do lately, and spiritually speaking I have been very confused. I have had this idea in my head that I don't feel at home in any of the communities that I used to. So much of my interactions with the young adult community in the past have been colored with expectations and entitlement issues and drama that I got weary of, and I felt that for the most part, most of the community, while absolutely full of wonderful people, were people that I couldn't relate to or that were at completely different places than I am.

I drove home after the conference feeling cradled and supported with love and caring.

Isn't it nice when we are wrong about things like this?

On the way home, I also got a new tattoo. Now, most people view tattoos as body decoration or rebellious moments in life. Mine are spiritual, all three. But this third one was by far the most spiritual and meaningful experience out of all of them. Coming from a community that reminded me of the incredible support that can be found in this world, and of the spirit that dwells everywhere, I was tattooed by a very dear friend of mine, which is a first as far as my tattoos go. I was surrounded by some very good friends, which was also a first. And the work that I was getting done is so intricately tied to my life the last five years and seeing the lessons I have learn now there on my arm as a reminder to me, it's just so...meaningful. It was a little like childbirth. I had Vanessa holding on to me in one place, and Elona stroking my arm. Both were talking to me, and giving me room to breathe. In some ways, it was a nice lesson in letting others support me through my pain. Others may think that sounds silly, but I have so completely isolated myself in my pain and my challenges the last few years that I put a whole new meaning to "going it alone". Surrendering to the physical pain I was experiencing was a release, and feeling the presence of those around me holding me and loving me, it's something I have forgotten how to feel until now.

On the whole, I feel so much less alone. And I am reminded that the magic in life finds me in the most unexpected of places.