Ramblings of an Old, Romantic Soul

  What does it mean when people say 'try to be strong'? Why? I am not weak because I cry, because I miss my Mom, my Dulcinea. I miss Mom's smile, her laugh, her hugs, her unconditional love, her presence. So many things I want to tell her - and yes, I've heard "she hears you". But right now that is not enough. In time it will be, but not now. And that's okay.  Every morning, every evening, I look for sweet Dulcinea - I listen for her meows, her pawsteps. I long to have her lay on my chest, gently kneading, and listen to her soothing purr. But she is gone.  Two souls, so long a part of my life, are no longer present.  I am numb. I am lost. I am no longer needed. Will I find my way again? Of course I will. A path will be made clear and I will sing and dance again. But not now, not yet.  Grief is strange. A very dear friend told me "there is no way through but through" - and that takes strength. It takes strength to confront the tears, the lonelines...

Ugh. Hospice. The word has such a negative connotation. Hospice = imminent death. When Dad left the hospital, he came home on hospice care and was with us for two weeks before he died. The hospice team was wonderful, especially his nurse, Albert - a gentle giant who cared for Dad so lovingly. But even so, we knew Dad was coming home to die. I have so many thoughts running through my head, so forgive me if this is a bit jumbled.  Mom has been talking about death for a few months. She is realizing she is at the end of her life and it is hitting her right in the face. She is not giving up, it's just where she is.  Those are her words, not mine. Her food and drink intake has seriously diminished. She has lost quite a bit of weight. And, she has asked to speak to each of her children, to tell them how much she loves us.  I spoke with her doctor and he suggested hospice. He said that people know their bodies and often times sense when it is time. The fact that Mom has stated al...

  The support of family and friends is paramount on this journey with Mom.  I would be lost without the love of my sisters, who are always there to listen, encourage, visit. I would be wandering the misty flats without my dear friends who check on me daily, offering shoulders to cry on.   But most importanly, without the support of my beloved, this journey would not be happening. He is a constant source of  unconditional love and trust. He had no doubts (contrary to me) about Mom moving to Florida. He simply said 'it's what families do'. Mom adores him, and he adores her.  When he comes home from work, her mood changes - it makes her happy to have 'the man of the house' home. She feels safe.  He reminds her often how loved she is and how happy he is to have her with us.  He reminds her this is her home now, she is a part of our little family. My husband has a quiet strength about him. He is very much like my Dad. He has the strength to carry me wh...

  The day is grey and rainy, not conducive to an upbeat and positive attitude.  I know it's going to be a long day when Mom wakes up not sure where she is and asking if I have been here all night.  Perhaps it is the inclement weather that is affecting her too, but she is feeling very lonely and questioning her move to Florida, and everything else.  Sometimes, the repitition is easy to manage. Sometimes it is not. Today, not so much.  We are rehashing over and over and over - the strokes, the fractured hip, HER decision to make the move. My heart and mind understand that she does not remember, not to take things personally, but dammit, sometimes it is difficult.  Several times in recent months she has commented that I lie.  I can tell by her looks that she is not believing what I tell her and the 'bullshit!' comment is also a very good indication.  Did she sign anything? No. Was she aware of her decision? Yes. What were her options? Move here or ha...

  To quote Michael Buble - 'It's a new day, it's a new dawn, and I'm feeling good." What a difference a night makes. That, and a good venting via the written word.  Journaling/blogging is therapeutic for me.  Writng is a good way to get the anger, frustration, hurt, whatever it is I am feeling - out of my system. Then the light becomes brighter.  The tears dry up. And a smile returns. There is a song we sang in church 'But then comes the morning, yesterday's sorrows behind. Wake it's the day of your longing; life returns, mercy comes, it's morning."  So true. So true. I knew this journey would be a roller coaster of emotions. Some days are good, some not so much. Some days I can handle whatever comes our way, other days not so much.  And that's okay.  Mom doesn't see the discombobulated me; I keep it from her. Hence the blog. Again, great release. Really great. (sound like anyone we know?!)  Mr. Henley, if you please  Today Mom is doing...

  Today is a bad day.  Have you ever felt a loss for something you never had?  A paralyzing sadness has washed over me. There are things I should be doing, and yet all I can do is sit. Perhaps writing will help alleviate the melancholy.  We have plans to go away for a week. My youngest sister, Karen, will be here to care for Mom.  Mom has had a rough couple of days due to an infection/medication. Last night she was up several times, so today is she a bit confused and sleepy.  As much as I need this getaway, I am concerned that caring for Mom alone may be a bit overwhelming for my sister.  Though I do most of her personal care, Terry is here in the evening to cook dinner, clean up, and provide emotional support.  Mom has been asking if I think Karen can handle everything. Mom is concerned about her 'baby' doing some of the things I do.  Karen has spoken with Mom, I have spoken with Mom to console her and let her know everything will be okay. N...

We have decided to create a memory book of Mom’s life. She is 90 years old now and retention of current events is dwindling, however, she remembers her past quite well.  We asked family to submit questions. I then video Mom's responses. One of the questions this morning was 'what is your favorite memory of your dad, our grandfather'.  My grandfather was tragically killed in a coal mining accident when Mom was a senior in high school - 1947, 73 years ago.  Her response was so poignant - so much emotion, as if he had passed away yesterday. I had to stop recording for her to regain composure. Again, it made me realize that she may not remember her pills, or if she had breakfast, but she certainly remembers what happened 73 years ago.  Today's events are distant, but yesteryear's happenings are very real. How blessed am I to be the one recording such precious and cherished memories. 

  Forget Donald Trump and Joe Biden. That debate doesn't hold a candle to the debates in our home -  Terry vs Kristina, with Carmella as moderator 😄 Makes for very lively 'discussions'. On one side is Terry, my dearest love.  He does NOT like Trump, thinks he is evil and dumb. I tell him over and over this is not the case.  Evil is a very strong word, and like him or not, Donald Trump is not dumb.  According to Terry, the President has done nothing for the country - at all. Well, correction, he has caused divisivness, hatred, and anything else bad happening in the world.  'Tis very frustrating.  On the other side is me.  I do NOT like Biden. I think he is dumb and useless. And Terry cannot argue those points.  He will vote for a simpleton (harsh, I know) just to NOT vote for Trump.  I am not enamoured with our President - far from it.  He irritates the hell out of me at times, and I think he often has diaharea of the mouth. He spea...

  Let me say this: I know Mom appreciates all I do for her.  I know my husband appreciates all I do for him and our household.  BUT...the struggle is real to maintain positivity and not have my own pity party.  All day Mom asks about Terry. Did he sleep well, did he get off to work okay? How long will he work and when will he retire?  He works so hard, we should get him a treat.  Terry comes home and 'Terry, you deserve to rest. We haven't done a thing all day'.  Say what???  Yes, the struggle is real not to defend, cry, or just give up.    I begin to wonder what DO I do all day? Perhaps Mom is correct and we do nothing.  How can I be so tired when I just sit all day and listen to her stories or questions. The thing is, it is mentally exhausting. Not to mention the walks, the showers, the breakfasts, lunches, etc. And here I go, defending myself. So I will stop now. I know what I do, and Terry knows what I do. That's all that really...

  . ..comes to me, speaking words of wisdom. We all know the song, do we not?  "Let It Be' by the Beatles.  And now you'll be singing it all day. You're welcome 😅   Part of our daily routine is to go for a walk. Mom has an electric scooter, which allows her to go further and faster, and a wheelchair.  More often than not we take the wheelchair to give Mom the option of walking or riding.  Our walk takes us through the woods, around ponds, and we get to see much of God's beauty and nature.  As we go along, I play music and Mom sings along, or waves her hands in the air like a conductor - we often wonder what people must think as they pass by.  But we don't care. Mom is enjoying herself and having fun.   My last blog mentioned how I sometimes feel guilty about the little deceptions that occur to maintain my sanity.  Two words I now choose NOT to use on our walks - glorious and mother nature.  Why?  When 'glorious' is m...

  Life is full of changes and surprises. Some are good and expected, others shock the hell out of us and rock our world.  December 2019 changed my world.  Let me backtrack a bit to give some history.  In 2008, my husband and I made the move from Maryland to Florida, leaving most of our family behind, including my parents.  Dad's health was not great, but we knew I could travel back and forth when needed.  I did so until his death in January 2011.  Mom's health was pretty good. And living in Florida, there wasn't much I could do except email every morning and call every night. In 2019, I noticed in our evening phone calls she was sometimes forgetful or sounded disoriented so I began to make regular visits.  Terry and I invited Mom to move to Florida and live with us. She accepted. September 2019, Mom suffered two mild strokes followed by a fall in October (fractured hip). The time in hospital and rehab took a toll, both physically and mentally, and...