Please Dial 411...Not 911.

What, exactly, is the process of grieving?  Is anger a part of it? Am I a Rotten Caretaker if I get miffed?

My mother ran low on one of her (nonessential) medications today and made a dozen calls trying to track me down at work. She's already left me so many messages my voicemail hit its limit and refused to accept any additional messages. Today, she hit "0" for Operator so many times, she wound up at the receptionist desk for my regional office. Headquarters.  HQ.  The location of the Head Honchos...the Grand Fromages.

So I conclude a meeting this afternoon, look at my email and see an emergency message from the main office.  "Call your mother - Emergency. She's at home."

My hands are shaking as I dial the phone. Dear God - did something happen to my dad?  Is mom bleeding? Did a cat run out the front door and into the street?

"Mom, it's Jill.  What's wrong?"

"I have it. It's all OK now, I got it taken care of."

"What?"

"Well, I made the phone call and got the information, the area code, it's OK. It's OK."

"Mother!  Speak to me clearly. What's wrong? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?"

"I am going to run out of medication tomorrow and I needed your area code."

Yup, that's right. She needed my area code and was transferred 10 times...to 10 different company employees... in an effort to track me down, so she could get what she wanted, when she wanted it.

I have now set Boundaries. I have reiterated that she is only to call me at work during emergencies. 

And here I sit, shaking my head...realizing in this moment that to Mom, this was an emergency.

My Personal Hell.

Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs.Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs.B aby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs. Baby. Money. Thin Thighs.

Sigh. My mental needle is stuck and I can't get these thoughts out of my head. I think I need a good cry. This last weekend was so intensely emotional. And all I can do is is think about what I Don't Have.  It's my own, personal Hell.

Climbing Out Of My Skin.

My father has no idea that my mom is refusing to return home to live with him.

My friend's sister is addicted to prescription meds. She works as a caretaker for an elderly woman in Los Angeles...and last week, she slipped this poor woman some of her meds (in her warm milk).  Why?  So she could take off for a few hours to go to Disneyland. My friend was wise enough to withhold all names and exact locations.

It occurred to me today that I have managed every aspect in my life...except my weight. Now, why's that?

It is my sincere belief that my family loves my husband more then they love me.

I just found out that my boss is pregnant...and I hurt so deeply inside. Why can't I be normal and get pregnant and be excited about it like everyone else? 

Argh. I more I think, the more agitated I become. I've gotta go.

 

 

Cry Me A River

I have only seen my dad cry once and that was when he was walking me down the aisle at my wedding.

Last night, he sobbed throughout the evening.

We were celebrating his 80th birthday with his two best friends and our entire family. It was a lovely evening, filled with the sounds of piano music, laughter and deep sobs of gratitude.  The house was decorated fabulously - sheer ribbons trailing across the living room ceiling gave the room a golden glow. Balloons tied across the backyard, dad's favorite tunes from the 40s and 50s wafting throughout the house, candles glowing in every room...it was beautiful.

But the highlight was the people. Dad's friends are fun and lively...they stood up in front of the group and reminisced, told jokes and shared stories of the good ol' days.  I'm so glad I had the chance to get to know them - they are Good People.

This morning has been tough.  My sister Ann went into a slight diabetic shock and she was belligerent, obstinate and cranky. Once she finished "laying into me" for forcing her to eat something, she broke into tears. I cannot tell you how heart wrenching it is to see my blind sister standing in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down her face...all because I refused to give her the insulin until she drank a small glass of juice.

My mom was sitting nearby, and she too was crying. Tears because my sister is diabetic. Tears because my sister is blind. Tears because none of us can make this horrible thing any better.

I'm overwhelmed with emotion right now.

Ruby

Isn't that a beautiful name, Ruby?

Well, I can tell you that she was a wonderful person. Very sweet, a loyal listener who called me every Tuesday night for over 2 years. She always requested the same song, Sentimental Journey by Dinah Shore.

Ruby didn't call a couple of weeks ago, and I was concerned. I called her home and learned that she was in the hospital. I jumped in the car and drove directly to Los Gatos, and there we met in person...in the CCU...for the very first time.

The nurses made me put on latex gloves, I don't know why and I didn't ask. It didn't matter. Ruby was sitting up and she had beautiful, curly white hair.  We talked for just a little while, I didn't want to impose. She called me as soon as she was out of the hospital to tell me that she was OK. 

I didn't hear from her Tuesday night, and I meant to call her yesterday to check in. But I have been swamped at work plus getting ready for my family who came to town tonight.

Today, Ruby passed away.  And I am sad down to my bone marrow. I so badly wanted to get to know her better, spend time with her drinking tea, chatting about her family.

I waited too long.

Sometimes it's hard to remember...that Tomorrow is promised to no one.

Dream a Little Dream...of Me

I'm off to bed. Going to jump onto the pillow top and wrap myself in sateen sheets, grab my cats, and snore as loudly as humanly possible. I'm beat. 

A Snapshot in Time

The Incident with mom is all but forgotten. She's in the living room right now, napping peacefully. Strangely, there is a slight smile on her lips and I wonder what in the world she could be dreaming about.
 
I have placed my order from the party rental store.  In 6 days I am hosting my Dad's 80th Birthday party - with several of his friends from his days at Berkeley.  Now, I need to order the meat and see if the pianist is available to "tickle the ivories" for a couple of hours.
 
Tomorrow night we re-present our remodel plans, with changes, to the city council. My husband is feeling very optimistic that we'll be approved. I remain neutral until that actually happens.
 
I enjoyed a few moments of sheer happiness today: Waking up in my bed with my husband and cats next to me; Reading the Real Estate section in the newspaper and feeling very lucky to have our house; Daydreaming about joining the pool in town and taking our two little babies there when we return from Russia; Watching my husband plant petunia's in the flower boxes outside...they are stunningly perfect. He made a good choice.
 
We had a skunk in the backyard last night and I was shocked by his beauty. His tail included long wisps of pure, white hair.  I wanted to hold him on my lap and brush it.
 
My husband wants to visit Italy and France after our first trip to Russia. My reply..."Okay."  (I'm jumping out of my skin with excitement.)
 
I ordered a box of pretzel bellies for my sister Ann...who will be here Friday night. They are filled with Blackberries and have a crumbly topping.  She's been talking about them for over a week. She is flying out to Las Vegas tonight to see her beau-friend. She's been tanned, waxed, highlighted and manicured.  She's ready for a good time...and the entire family is thrilled. (She's blind and is dating a slightly older man with vision.)
 
Okay, time to get back to writing my radio program for the week. A little Frank Sinatra, a little Sarah Vaughan...it's always a good time.
 
 
 
 
 

There Are No Take-Backs When You've Hurt Someone

I have written about my difficult childhood many times. I was yelled at, chased, swatted, slapped and emotionally abused.

I have also written that my mom has moved in with us because of her health and happiness issues. Pure and simple, she's not doing well.

Last night, I was stern and harsh with her. I don't know....maybe my day at work was too much and I was on edge. Maybe I fell into my old pattern of talking back to her - which matched the velocity of how she spoke to me when I was a kid. Maybe I was just being impatient, intolerant, more concerned about how I was feeling in the moment.

The reason behind the behaviour doesn't really matter. Because the result was my mother breaking into tears...done quietly and softly and with utter resignation.

The moment seized me and I began crying too. It almost felt as though I had hurt a small, vulnerable animal that could not defend itself.  I abused my power and hurt a very sweet, old, little woman who is slowly dying and doing all that she can to slow down that process.

I absolutely hate myself right now.

For Kicks & Giggles

In case you haven't decided who will get your vote in November...check this out. 

Today, I want to run free and wild. Feel the wind caress my face.  Run blindly into the sun.  With no one following, and nothing behind me.

The Truth About Life

How can life be so wonderful and so damn difficult at the same time?

I found a squirrel in the front yard yesterday. It couldn't stand and kept falling over onto its side. It apparently slept in the wet, grassy moss all night and seemed to be barely alive. I immediately fed it unsalted peanuts and brought it a bowl of water. It literally ate 20 peanuts without stopping. At one point, it was eating one and it just toppled over...with very little reaction, which led me to believe it had sustained a head injury. We wrapped him up and took him to the Humane Society, and sure enough, the little guy had neurological damage. He probably fell out of a tree and landed on his head. No blood, no open wounds...just a little scratch on his forehead, which apparently sustained major damage.

The wildlife vet said, "It doesn't look good." I'm assuming that's code for..."He's being euthanized right now, as we speak."

My mom has had several bleeding incidents again. She banged her leg against a table a week ago and I have been steadily wrapping and disinfecting the wound. The other night, the wound started POURING blood out of her. It reminded me of a leaking faucet, just one, continuous flow. Blood was on the carpet, the tile, in the grout...it went everywhere. The most upsetting part was seeing mom in distress. Crying, helpless, in total despair.

The squirrel incident and my mom's health condition are resting heavily on my heart. I want to fix things. I want to make it better. I want to be a Healer. And I am powerless to help in a way that I yearn to do.

I read once that we are mere flecks of dust floating along through the wind of life. There is no permanence, no contribution that we can make that will last forever. And regardless of how much we want something with our total being...we can't change the forward motion of time.

Several years ago I was in San Francisco with friends to tour the Open Studios - a day when artists open their studios to the public and sell their artwork directly to the consumer. We got lost on the way there - we were in two cars - and we were circling the neighborhood of Hunter's Point. A two-year old baby boy ran out of his mother's arms, in between two parked cars and into the street. My friend, who was driving behind us, ran over him without ever seeing him...and the little guy died instantly.

I remember running back to the scene of the accident, seeing what had happened, and dropping to my knees. I tried to bargain with God. "Please, take my home, take my cats. Please, anything, let this little boy live."

I felt enveloped by a Black Hole in time - everything moved in slow motion, and my soul was crying out to God to fix this thing, this horrible thing that should never have happened.

And I suddenly became aware of how trivial I was...Utterly Powerless...to save the life of a baby.

And it is in that spot that I sit here today. I can't save the ones I love. Once again, I am reminded that I am a temporary speck on the face of this Earth. And no matter how badly I want something...I am inconsequential and most certainly, not in control.

A Perfect Day

It's been an amazing day.

Got a phone call at 10am from friends who had tickets to a Luxury Box at SBC Park...the SF Giants playing the Oakland A's. We had two hours to get ready before the game - we would have been ready to go in less than 3 minutes.

We were situated just to the left of home plate. The view of the game was perfect.

The Luxury Box was filled with leather furniture and food, food, food. Beer, hot dogs, pizza, watermelon, chicken Caesar salad, cookies, lemon bars, wine, brownies, Cracker Jacks...everything you could imagine ever wanting at a baseball game.

Two fighter jets flew over the stadium before the game started. We all agreed that it gave us a sense of security knowing they were up there.

The sun was shining brightly, there was no fog in sight. Just an unbelievable day.

We saw Barry Bonds make history by being the Most-Walked Player ever. Over 2,000 walks and something like 37.3 miles total.

The game was free. VIP Parking was free. The food was free. I was so happy with the day, I tipped our waiter $20 bucks.

I got to hold the baby for most of the game. She's just 7 months old and was perfect in my arms. She smiled and bit my chin and hugged me. This was the best part of the day... But oh! What a joy to be out of the house, doing something new and different, enjoying the San Francisco sunshine, and being very, very happy to celebrate the 4th of July here in the Bay Area.

God Bless America.

Do I Fight...or go Belly-Up?

As I age, my internal battles change.

Used to be, I tortured myself over what I did, what I didn't do, how I looked, all that I didn't accomplish...and on, and on.

Now, I battle over What to Accept...and What to Fight.

Do I accept that I am heavier than I should be, and allow myself to simply exist as I am...in peace? Or do I continue to beat myself up until I finally, finally do something about it?

Do I accept that my neighborhood is patrolled by a hawk that keeps stalking the love-doves? Or do I make a plan to get rid of that hawk once and for all?

Do I accept that I am married to an artist who wants nothing more than to do art? Or do I continue to actively encourage (read: nag) him to build a stable business, a retirement fund, a steady income?

Do I accept that my mother wants to relocate to the beach to be with my other two sisters? Or do I force her to live up here with me because they have too much on their plate right now and cannot take care of her?

Do I accept that I have stomach pain, knee pain, head pain, heart pain...and keep taking pills? Or do I finally, finally do something about it?

Do I accept that I cannot get pregnant and my husband's refusal to try in-vitro? Or do I push, and wear him down, and force the issue?

Do I accept my husband's non-participation in the adoption paperwork? Or do I force him to sit with me to fill it out, get it done, move it forward?

Do I accept the fact that we didn't receive an invitation from one single friend to do anything tomorrow on the 4th of July, despite the dozens of parties I have thrown for 40+ people over the last 5 years? Or do I pick up the phone and be the one to host the event...again?

Egads, I could keep going. But these thoughts are too heavy for me to deal with, too much for me to tackle all at once. My inclination is to plop myself down in the new Barcalounger and go Belly-Up....at least, for today.

Hello, It's Me.

My contacts have dried up like potato chips on my eyeballs.

I was just snippy with my mother because she asked me for the Umpteenth time tonight how much dinner would cost.

I had a fabulous day out in the field making sales calls with one of my reps. It was her birthday and I treated her to lunch. Her restaurant choice? In & Out.

I am booking a house at the beach for my family so we can celebrate my dad's upcoming 80th birthday. We'll be at each others' necks, but I am bound and determined to have at least one vacation with my entire family before I die.

The new program (diet) starts Monday. Today, I feast.

This is my life today. How is yours?