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Okay Pixie and Merlin we have a nasty thunderstorm coming in to celebrate the New Year with. I know I don’t care for them either but Mother Nature does what she pleases. I know in the kitty world things are supposed to be dedicated to eating, playing, cat naps, and exploring which we all know if an euphemism for getting into things you shouldn’t. 2010 was not the best of years for any of us. There were a lot of changes and some of them were very painful. 2011 is going to bring even more changes to our world.
Pixie, you were with Mom when she died on May 26th and you stayed with her until Mike came home. That was such a loving and compassionate thing to do. I know it had to be very hard for you because Mom was your special person. You added three years to the life of a woman with an extremely bad heart. Mom said you were the brave one of the litter and the smart one. You decided this house was to be yours and the people in it belonged to you, especially Mom. You were also the one full of love.
Merlin you are a senior citizen now and you would like to spend your remaining years not being bothered by a little smart-aleck who pounces on you and chases you up and down the stairs. You know some kids just don’t have proper respect for their elders. You especially dislike the fact that you have to share me now with Pixie. You have always been the world’s biggest Momma’s Boy.
In October I was forced out of my job and decided to just take early Social Security. You both love the idea that I can be home to take care of you 24/7. We will ignore the fact that each of you thinks that I should devote my entire attention just to you. Yes, both of your eyes have a bit of green in them.
2011 will be a lot of upheaval in all our lives. Pixie this is the only home you have known but we will need to move. Merlin you have done this move a couple of times before. You don’t like it, I know. We have to sell this house. There is no way that Mike and I can afford it by ourselves. Talk about exploring Pixie you can “help” me go through all the cupboards and shelves and desks and cabinets and hidey holes in this maze. Both Mom and Dad were pack rats and I need to go through everything and decide what to keep, what to toss, what to give to charity, and what to sell. It will be a humongous task but it has to be done.
We will also be moving down to North Carolina. So Pixie and Merlin I need you to practice saying “meow y’all” okay? My brother and I decided that Pixie would be better off with me. My six year job of caretaker is over and I need to move on. I am not a small town girl and I need to get back to the big city.
We will be renting an apartment in Winston Salem that is close to where my niece, her husband and three children live. They are cat owners guys so I know you will like them. Pixie you are going to love Maggie but it is doubtful how Winston Salem is going to survive you two on a rampage. Merlin you will have a soul mate in Dharma who understands how irritating little sisters can be especially when you weren’t consulted about whether or not they should be part of the household.
Winston Salem will be a perfect fit for me. I have already met some of the movers and shakers in the art community there and will be actively pursuing selling my art, photographs, and jewelry. It will help supplement my Social Security. It will fulfill a dream of years for me.
It will be nice to get all my things out of storage and set up a place of my own again. Merlin you will recognize our old couch and footrest. You especially loved the footrest since that had the large toy white cat on it. Pixie you are adaptable and young so you will get use to the new place really fast. With a new place of our own maybe all three of us will feel a little more cheerful. This place is haunted by too many memories of Mom and Dad and constantly reminds us of how much we miss them.
A new life awaits the three of us but for me it will also bring a chance to help others on a larger scale. My niece is actively involved in the problems of the homeless and introduced me to some of the people she works with on United Way and other projects. I will have the time and resources down there to do my part to help others the way they helped Bernadette when she was left homeless with three children under the age of six. One of the reasons for living is to be able to help others. I’m not rich but I have time and talent I can use.
Being a caregiver is the most rewarding and most painful job in the world. I want to be able to help others who are in that position. Seeing how much Pixie helped keep my mother alive I want to explore getting pets to others who could use that love in their lives.
So kids we have one very busy year ahead of us with lots of changes. We have this old house to go through and clean up and sell. We have a new home to set up the way we want. We have new people to meet and some family that we can share our lives with. We have a lot of excitement and probably frustrations too but we made it through this year. We can make it through anything. Now come on you two how hard is it to say “meow y’all?”
My picture is called “New Year’s Prayer.” I pray 2011 is a good year for everybody. We all have a lot of work to do to help those who are less fortunate then ourselves but together we can do it.
Christmas is a time of rejoicing. It is a time for family and friends to put aside grievances and try and join in the true Spirit of the holidays. It is a red, white and blue Christmas for me. The red holiday decorations are all over town and I put up a couple of decorations on the table just so we would have something Christmassy to look at. It is a White Christmas with plenty of snow on the ground. The blue comes from the physical in a badly bruised hand to the emotional, it is the first Christmas without Mom.
Christmas this year was simply going through the motions. I had to push myself to even think of the holidays. It feels so weird not having Mom here. I still continue to do things that I know she would love. I can hear Mom now looking at my Christmas picture telling me how cute it is and telling the little girl to get her thumb out her mouth and scolding the cat for playing with the ornaments. I had been at a total loss for what to do about the Christmas picture this year and subconsciously ended up doing the perfect “Mom” picture.
My Dad was the ultimate little kid when it came to Christmas. He was always the first one up and could hardly wait until it was time to open the presents. I inherited his ability to grown up and still be a big kid. I still get excited about opening gifts. My Mom was more blasé about the holidays. She was more concerned with Christmas dinner then the whole thing of unwrapping gifts. She hated to shop and frequently gave checks to people to buy what they wanted. Every once in a while though she would go through the catalogs she received almost daily and order something for us. They always turned out to be the perfect gift.
It was a tight Christmas for me. The COBRA has just gone up to $541.00 a month which wipes out over half of my Social Security. I did inexpensive gifts and a lot of home made. I know my three grandchildren love art work so I sent them two matted pictures a piece in themes they love. Several people got my art calendar with the listings of goofy holidays. All the women got one of a kind jewelry that I designed and made.
Christmas has always been my favorite holiday but today I just wish it would hurry up and end. I miss giving my Mom a hug and telling her Merry Christmas. I miss the look of joy on her face when she scolds me for spending money on her while wrapping herself if the fluffy light blue robe I just got her. She was so frail and got cold so easily. I can still see her showing Pixie the pictures I made and pointing to the cat in the picture and telling Pixie that was her. Of course she had to add that Pixie was much prettier of course.
I was able to see the joy on my brother’s face when he opened up the” Blazing Saddles” DVD and exclaimed it was his favorite movie. He was also very touched that I went ahead and bought him the Walkman MP3 player. He told me that he knew money was tight and that made the gift even more special.
I was Mom’s caregiver for six years. For six years I did her Christmas shopping for her and did all her wrapping. She gave me some challenges like Department of the Army floor mats for my brothers car. I did the Christmas dinner shopping for her. I made her cookies for this time of year. I went outside and took pictures of the snow for her since she really didn’t like going out it the cold weather.
I know that time eventually heals all wounds but there will always be an empty place inside where my parents were. I have so many wonderful memories of them that helps but it still doesn’t take the place of feeling their arms around me.
Next year will be a little easier because I will be spending the day with my niece and her family. She is like a daughter to me and I consider her three children to be my grandchildren. There will be an empty place where Mom and Dad should be but I understand it will always be there.
So Christmas is about half done for today. Merlin has his new catnip mouse and Pixie is playing Mighty Huntress with her new toy. My brother is getting ready to go back to work and I’m going to make some supper and watch some Doctor Who Christmas specials.
Thank you for your support during this rough year for me. I hope your holidays have been filled with joy and laughter and love.
A few years ago I did this picture which I think succinctly sums a cat’s view of everything including Christmas. Merry Christmas from Merlin and Pixie. May Sandy Claws be good to your pets.
Just when you think you have life together reality collides and your world is torn apart. Ten years ago my niece was married and had three children aged six, four and two. Her husband abandoned her with $20.00 and one suitcase of clothes for the four of them. Welcome to the face of the homeless. In a way she was fortunate because we did what we could to help out and her mother was there and even though she only worked at minimum wage jobs she could help a little. It was through the networks of North Carolina’s people who care that she was able to keep the children with her and find shelter and food while she struggled trying to find work in a depressed economy. If you can find work the cost of babysitting is more then you make. If you don’t find work you are reviled as being lazy and a drain on honest, hard working Americans. The wealthy elite who can afford to buy elections are so far away from the truth of homelessness that it is a sin that they should even be allowed to be in power and make decisions on lives they could care less about. They aren’t sure how many homes they own and can pump millions of their own money into smear campaigns but are blind to those truly in need. They are so concerned about tax cuts for the wealthy that they are incapable of seeing the people holding up cardboard signs with no food, no shelter, no hope.
I am going to be moving down to Winston Salem, North Carolina this Spring. My job of being a caregiver to my mother ended on May 26th with her death. My job at the hospital ended because of hatred and bigotry and an incompetent Administration who cut the low level employees and their benefits while wasting millions of dollars on renovations that we can not fill. With declining health I’ve decided to take early Social Security and try to supplement that with selling of art, jewelry and photography.
My niece because of a system that actually had some people in place who care and a support system of family is now remarried with a wonderful husband who loves her children and has made them his own. He is a Presbyterian Minister and we love him dearly in spite of the sports teams he cheers for. Besides he is a Doctor Who fan so he has to be good. The entire family wants me down there so they can help look after me. They worry about me being alone with COPD and degenerative arthritis. Of course I will also be there for them as they go through the minefield that is children in their teens.
I met a couple of people that my niece works with in the field of homelessness. It is something that is dear to her heart helping out those who are in the position she once was in. She has all but the thesis in her Master’s Degree and she wants to help others. I found out when I was there that 25% of the homeless are Veterans. We send our men and women out to war and then neglect them when they come home. I will be spending a great deal of my time in helping out along side of my niece. I realize that if it were not for my Mother carefully watching her money that I would be in no position to pay for the COBRA while I try and get disability. I would not have a home over my head while I try and get everything taken care of for my move and so that my brother and I can sell this house.
There are things we can do right now to help. If you check out this story today on Dr. Ray Workman in the Winston-Salem Journal http://www2.journalnow.com/news/2010/nov/19/poignant-portraits-ar-550208/ you will see how he is helping. And if you go here http://homelessposter.com/ you can buy the poster to help out. And if you are good at computers call the Bethesda Center. Someone has hacked their site and made it unsafe to go to in order to donate. Tax cuts for the rich? Bristol Palin as Dancing Queen? Come on we are better then that. We can do something to help those who really need our help. The Homeless? This is the new face of the homeless.
“Life. Don’t talk to me about life.” Marvin the depressed robot from "Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy"
The last week I have felt like Marvin. Life has been a bitch. I was set up at where I worked so that they could get rid of me for a two fold reason. One I am 62 and not in the best of health and businesses are getting rid of people like me in any manner they can so they can lower their insurance costs. Two I made the mistake of being really good at what I did and that pissed off the head of a department who does not like smart women who can discover when she and her staff makes errors. I was cash posting between 100 and 450 items a day. I was told if I made one single error I was out of a job. It was a deliberate set up to get rid of me. There was zero compassion for the fact that I was a caregiver for my Mom for six years and am now trying to restart life after her death and that I am still reeling emotionally from her death. Six years is a big chunk of your life and 62 is a hell of a time to start over. So what now?
I have spent my life working at jobs that paid the bills. It supported my being able to do and run science fiction conventions. It has supported my being able to do art and cooking and photography and writing and poetry. I can’t say that the jobs were the best of times but it kept body and soul together and supported my cats in the process. Do I try for another job and face the same possibilities that this company too doesn’t want an older worker with health issues? Or do I look at the fact that I have been working since 1966 and can draw early social security? Do I face the fact that the COPD and degenerative arthritis has finally gotten to the point where it is impacting on my way of life? Or most importantly of all do I face the fact that I have two cats, Merlin and Pixie, who don’t really like each other and I have to be referee?
Okay the last question was flippant but I need to try and keep a sense of humor or I’m going to go crazy. After looking at my life and bank balance I realize I can survive for a while without making a decision but it would be smarter to make some plans. I’m tired and hurt from the moment I wake up to the moment I finally fall asleep knowing that I will wake up several times hurting. I can’t face another full time job even if I could get someone to hire me. I can get COBRA so at least I have medical insurance for a while. I’m trying to see if I can get disability so that when the COBRA runs out I can still get my medicine. So what do you do with this new life that is spreading out before you?
In my case I am planning to do something I have always wanted to do. I am a creative person and I plan on trying to earn some extra money with the photography and art. I am going to try and get my first book of fantasy short stories published while I am working on the second book. I am going to try and get my poetry published. I have enough recipes for a cookbook and I am trying to find someone who would sponsor the cookbook. I am thinking of OXO since with my arthritis I use their products. People with severe arthritis need to know that they can still enjoy cooking.
Those projects will help nourish the creative spirit and bank account. In practical terms I need to go through this house and clean things out so that it can be sold. In doing so I will gather all the information and pictures I can about both my parents. I want to write their story not only for myself but for the family. I am finding that there are still things that I know that my niece had never heard of. I want her and her three children to know more about their grandparents and great grandparents. I have my own story to tell. I have had an interesting 62 years so far and have some good stories to tell.
One thing that being a caregiver has given me is a renewed sense of activism. There is so much that could be done to make it easier to care for someone. It is hard to find the resources to keep going and get people the care they need. Care giving is a labor of love but it is also one of the hardest jobs in the world especially if the person you are caring for is a relative. You want to see that person as they were. I wanted so much to see my Mom as the vigorous person she always was. It hurt so bad to see that once straight back bent over. It hurt to see how twisted and deformed her fingers became with the arthritis. She was 94 pounds when she died. She was skin and bones. She had gone from robust to fragile in the blink of an eye.
In the last week I have made the conscious decision that I need to honor my parents by being strong. It would be easy to give up. It would be easy to swallow a bottle of pain pills and say I can’t face it any more. It would be easy to refuse to get out of bed and just lay there and vegetate. I have cried many tears. I have been angry. One thing I am not going to do however is quit. That bitch who cost me my job is not going to win.
I am going to be moving to North Carolina to be near my niece and her three children. I am the godmother to the four of them. It will be easier to get some help down there. My niece’s husband is on the Advocacy Board and she has already contacted someone who is willing to help me. I have a state of the art computer to do my art work on thanks to my Mom. I have a new Canon Rebel camera to do professional photographs with thanks to my brother. I have my first professional photography job at the end of the month.
I have a life and I plan to live it to the fullest. I have things I want to do. Little things like make a dress for my niece for Halloween. They do a theme each year and this year it is "The Lord of the Rings.” I promised an Arwen dress for her. After all I made her wedding dress four years ago when I promised her a "Princess Bride" dress. I majored in theater and love Shakespeare and I have "Hamlet" with David Tennant in the title role and Patrick Stewart as Claudius to watch. My grandnephew Tristan and his Mom watched it and loved it so I need to watch before I go down there to visit the beginning of November. I have Pixie and Merlin to cuddle and their fights to break up.
When life hands you lemons make lemonade and while you’re at it make a profit by selling it. My new business card is made and these pictures are on it. I am going to be as busy as a bee and soar like an eagle. Yeah life. Love it or loath it. You still have to deal with it.
I always get frustrated at the fact that one of the first things that gets cut when schools are trying to save money is the arts. I majored in theater and know the love of being on stage. I’m a writer of both poetry and fiction. I’m an artist. For me the arts are not a luxury they are a way of life. The arts in its many forms can not only entertain but it can teach. It can make you think.
Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin is widely considered to be a major influence in starting the American Civil War. John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath created major controversy in its depiction of migrant farm workers. George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess for all its faults did provide for African Americans the showcase to prove they could be a force to be reckoned with in the entertainment business. A Raisin in the Sun was the first play written by an African American woman to be performed on Broadway. Andrew Wyeth and Norman Rockwell showed that art and the common man belonged together. Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie brought an awareness of the working man’s condition to the world of song.
The arts like anything else can be turned and used for propaganda. The arts can also be a powerful tool to teach and bring to the forefront the issues and problems of real people. By its very nature art changes and evolves. A few years ago the idea of doing art on computers was laughed at. With the arthritis in my hands it is the only way I can do artwork these days.
It is in this ability to change and adapt that art has the most valuable lesson for today’s world. We must change and try new ideas if we are to conquer the problems facing us today. The ideas of the past are not working. I work in a small town hospital. I know from first hand experience that there is a health care crisis. I see people struggling to find jobs and to pay their bills. FDR realized with his New Deal that it is the common man who suffers most in economic down turns. We must change and we must push our representatives to change. The policies of the previous eight years have been proven not to work. It is time for the common man to be represented and given the chance to live the American Dream.
As readers of this diary know I was the caregiver for my mother for six years. We lost Mom in May. We had lost my Dad in May of 1999. Both of my parents loved my artwork and I frequently did pictures specifically for my Mom in the last couple of years. My Dad was a major reason that I pursued the art as he was one of my biggest cheerleaders. The last picture I did before my Dad died was one I called Gathering Moonlight. The picture illustrates a scene in one of my short stories. My Dad loved the picture. I have been reworking old pictures as the models and technology has advanced with computer art and I want the pictures to reflect those changes and the new techniques I have learned. I always hesitated to redo Gathering Moonlight because of the emotional connection it had for me as the last picture Dad saw before he died. Last night though I asked myself the question what would you do if Dad were still alive? The answer was that I would redo the picture and show it to him. So for Dad and Mom here is the new version of Gathering Moonlight. You have to be able to change. The past formed our present and what we do in the present will form our future. If we don’t want to repeat the errors of the past we must change now or there will be no future. This is the lesson we can learn from the arts.
I have always had problems with insomnia. On weekdays when I know I have to be at work I’ll go ahead and take the Ambien so I can at least get some sleep. On weekends or days when I don’t have to work I’ll just do the best I can. Often times it means that I get up in the early hours of the morning and go on the computer. Pixie is my companion at those times as she is a little night owl. Merlin just takes over the whole bed and goes back to sleep.
I have been going through a bout of really missing Mom the last couple of weeks. I have been dreaming of her the last couple of nights. After the nightmare of a couple of weeks ago I was hoping not to dream of her but the land of dreams follows its own rules. I’m beginning to suspect that Pixie is avoiding sleeping at night. Mom would proudly tell me in the mornings how Pixie would “sleepy time with Grandmother all night” although I knew she had been up prowling when Mom was asleep. She would come upstairs to my room to eat on the off chance that the upstairs kitty café was serving a different menu from the one downstairs.
Last night Pixie cuddled up next to me for over an hour although neither one of us slept. She catches up on her sleep during the day. She still keeps watch on me at three in the morning, the time we believed that Mom died. She needs to make sure that I don’t leave her like Mom did. She comes in several times during the night to check. I think that is her way of dealing with the loss. She has chosen me to be her new person and she checks up on her person frequently. As time passes maybe she will be a little more secure and actually curl up on the bed and sleep.
The night before when I dreamed of Mom it was a dream where I knew she was dead and shouldn’t be where she was. I was trying to get her back where she belonged. She could only go through the motions silently visiting that way. Last night I dreamed again of Mom but this time she came for a visit to comfort me. We spent a day with me taking her to the stores on the shopping trip that she wasn’t well enough in life to go on. The next morning in the dream I was finding evidence that she had really been there. I was the most comforting dream I have had since she died. I hope Pixie has comforting dreams like that. She really misses her Grandmother.
I think it is significant that I had that dream right after I started a prolonged creative streak and have been doing a lot of art work. I am even embarking on a new short story for the first time in four years. I think Mom knows I miss her and she wanted me to know that she is still with me. I am still finding my way after being a caregiver for six years. I think Mom was trying to tell me last night that she appreciated my being here with her and that she will always be with me in spirit.
The politest thing you could say about my cat Merlin is that he is a “wuss.” Bravery and Merlin are a complete contradiction in terms. Pixie on the other hand is the brave one. My Mom told everyone who would listen that Pixie was the brave one of the litter and came into the house while her siblings hid. Pixie is definitely the “alpha cat” in the household. I would like to try and say Merlin is a gentleman but unfortunately when a 17½ pound cat runs away from something that is 9 pounds and half his size coward tends to be more appropriate.
It is now three months since that horrible day when my brother came home from work and discovered Mom hadn’t slept in like we thought when we went to work that morning but had a fatal heart attack shortly after going to bed. Pixie stayed with Mom’s body until Mike came home and has avoided Mom’s bedroom ever since. In fact she spends little time downstairs and has taken over Merlin’s upstairs territory. At times it is hard to believe that it has been three months that Mom has been gone and at times it seems like just yesterday.
The stresses from those first few days seem to continue in new and different ways. At times I feel strong enough to stand them and at times I feel like I’m completely losing it. My brother and I pushed the biggest stress, cleaning out and fixing up the house, and selling it until next Spring. I couldn’t cope with it and the stresses of my job at the same time. The one thing I know for sure is that I want out of this little town and back to a larger city. I’ve been here six years caring for my Mom and the town’s people still seem to be surprised that I exist. Most of the cards and letters of consolation were addressed to my brother. No one in this small town cared that I was the caregiver and I was hurting too. I’m the outsider still and they have made it very clear I always will.
As Pixie came to grips with her grief at losing her “grandmother” she did what she had done at the very start. She looked around and decided that someone else was to be “her” person. Of course her person and slavery may be a bit mixed up in her mind. Mom had spoiled Pixie completely. Pixie wanted food she sat on the counter and demanded to be fed. Pixie wanted a nap on Mom’s lap then Mom sat there in the chair and held her for a couple of hours while she slept. I would come home from work and Mom would beg me to take her cat so she could get something done.
o be honest I spoiled Merlin but he at least knows that I have to work and do need some time to myself on the computer. Pixie seems to think every waking hour should be devoted to her. I am now supposed to be her person and lavish the attention that Mom did on her. She doesn’t seem to believe that Merlin counts. After all he had twelve years of being an only child and it is her turn. She chases Merlin away when I’m not watching her. Merlin has taken to leaving cat poop around the house in rooms where I frequent in order to try and mark those territories as his. I tried giving him his own litter box which he seemed to want at first but Pixie decided she liked that one instead. Finally at my wits end I took him to the Vet to make sure nothing was wrong with him. My Senior Citizen is very healthy but has “anger management” issues. The Vet has given me some medicine to help Merlin with the stress. In one of those life is funny moments it turns out to be the kitty version of what I’m taking to try and survive the stress overload I’m under.
So now I come into the kitty political wars. If I can negotiate a truce between these two I want the Nobel Peace Prize. In a way watching these two is like watching politics. On the one hand you have Merlin who was adopted at four weeks and never had to struggle. I’ve always taken care of him. He can be very needy and neurotic. On the other hand we have Pixie who in spite of the fact that my Mom called her a Princess is in reality a little street punk. She was born in the storage shed attached to our house. She decided that she wanted things better and pushed her way in. If Merlin could have an easy life then so can she. The difference is that she will fight for what she wants and Merlin won’t. As for myself I have a neurotic and a street punk and I love them both.
One of the people I love most in the world is named Tristen. He is starting his Freshman year in high school. His mother is my niece although our relationship is really more of a mother daughter relationship. I am her Godmother and Godmother to all three of her children. Tristen is the middle child and has been diagnosed with Asperger’s. His hasn’t been an easy life but he has turned into the most incredible young man I have ever known. We are each other’s cheerleaders.
Berni and I are a lot alike and we talk frequently. Sometimes with three kids you need an adult who understands. She has a wonderful husband now but she and I are survivors of abusive marriages and we have a bond that will never be broken. I got my Geek started in science fiction conventions that I worked and even ran. Meeting some of the stars of Doctor Who, especially Tom Baker, is what got her the second date with her now husband.
Tristen for many years was misdiagnosed but his Mom refused to give up. She finally found someone who would listen and tell her what was really wrong with her oldest son. In the four years since she remarried Tristen has grown up enormously. He was able to go to Houston’s Space Camp and had a wonderful time. He is a total Geek and we had a conversation not long ago that went from Doctor Who to Torchwood to Star Trek to Star Wars to computers to the thousand and one uses for duct tape that we both love. For Christmas I’m getting him some of the McGuyver DVDs. I loved Mac and I’m sure Tristen will too.
It spite of all his problems he and I bonded from the very start. Often times when I’m down he will suddenly email me on Facebook or pass a message along to me from his Mom. Knowing how he has helped himself overcome serious problems is a source of inspiration to me. He loves Fantasy and my short story collection “Sean’s Stories”. He loves my art work especially ones with dragons. I sent him my two newest dragons. He loved them. His Mom and Step Dad, soon to be adopted Dad, got away by themselves for the first time since getting married for three days. Her biological Mom watched the kids. I was impressed by the short posts Tristen has made recently on Facebook.
"Only time will tell if we stand the test of time!"
"They are back! Unfortunately, now they have to face the chaos of our household, especially with the upcoming school year."
"Mom and Dad are currently out on their vacation, leaving us w/ Gramma alone. I wish them the best of vacations, and hope that gramma can survive Zack without the "Parent Buffer".
And after having a horrible few days at work and being home ill his response to my dragons made me feel much better and loved. You can’t beat the love of a child. They are our true resources and we need to improve everything from health, to schools, to the world we live in for them. On the Western dragon Tristen said: "I love it!” And on the Easter dragon he said:"I love it even more! the lilac background compliments the silver dragon perfectly!”
“Pain makes man think. Thought makes man wise. Wisdom makes life endurable.” Teahouse of the August Moon
I am a theater person. It was my major in college much to my parents dismay. One of the first plays I was in was Teahouse of the August Moon and the quote above has always been with me. For people who think the arts are frivolous it is the arts that shape you and make you think. Pain hurts but it does make you think. Last night I had a nightmare that has shaken me so bad that even though I know I must I’m almost afraid to try and go to sleep. Thinking and writing about it may help me endure.
As many of you know I was the caregiver for my Mom these last six years. I gave up a job I loved and packed up my possessions and put them in storage because my Mom asked me to help her. My Mom never asked for help. She was always Mrs. “I can do it all without help thank you very much.” My Dad’s sudden death changed that and she realized how much she had depended on him and now needed some help herself. I was her “go to” person. Finally when things were changing for the worse on my job she took the plunge and asked me to move in with her because she needed help.
Mom had always been fairly healthy but with her family history she was a candidate for heart problems and when it hit it hit her without warning. She had a heart attack that almost killed her. I was in the throws of an abusive marriage at the time and my husband had made sure that there wasn’t enough money for me to fly home and help my Dad get through the difficult time of not knowing whether Mom was going to live or not. Mom pulled through and I fled my hell. Dad was supposed to hang in there until I could get back to the Midwest. I was to take over from him on tracing the family tree. He died of a sudden heart attack a month before I could get back. Five years later his wife asked me to come live with her. There were things only a daughter could do.
I have never regretted my decision to come here in spite of the pain that it caused. It was hard to see Mom deteriorate before my eyes knowing I could do nothing to stop her heart failing. It was a hard six years. They never quite prepare you for the heartache that comes from care giving. You become a caregiver when things have gone wrong and can’t be fixed. It is a mater of time and you don’t know how much time you will have. I had six years. Six years that ended with a call from my brother saying “Sis you have to come home right away. Mom is gone.”
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I was supposed to be there for her to the end. She wasn’t supposed to have gone to bed and had a sudden heart attack leaving only her cat to be with her till the end. Her cat Pixie is now my cat Pixie. The little black rascal who brazenly walked in and realized she had a house full of suckers to take her in and make her their Little Princess. She didn’t care that Merlin the Magician didn’t want any competition. She was the smart one of the litter.
Although I have walked away from the Catholicism of my youth I have still retained the Celtic belief that after we die we will be rewarded. I still believe there is a Heaven. Although my Heaven is probably closer to the Simpson’s episode with Liam Neeson and is a place with drinking and boxing and step dancing and all the glorious fun that comes with my Celtic heritage. As I promised her when I said goodbye and that I would take care of Pixie I also felt that she would be in a place where she never had to suffer. She would be with my Dad and like the Dad I dream about she would be young and healthy. She wouldn’t be the thin bent woman she had become. She wouldn’t have bandages on her head from surgery to remove cancerous growths.
In last night’s dream Mom appeared and she had made it clear she was dead. I don’t remember what she was talking about but she collapsed on the floor. She was even thinner then she was at death. She was even less the 94 pounds she had become and she had the large bandage on her head from the surgery a few months ago and she was in pain
I refuse to believe that I went through all this pain and that she is still suffering. Damn it she has to be free from the pain and be happy. She was a good woman and I can’t believe she is still suffering. It isn’t right
I have to go to work tomorrow and for that I need to sleep. After all I now have two cats to support. I can only hope and yes pray that tonight’s sleep will be different. Pixie has been very subdued for a couple of days and I’m afraid she is plagued with nightmares too. She rushed in last night when I woke up crying to comfort me and to get comfort herself. Mom was a good woman and she deserves to be rewarded. I don’t know what triggered last night’s nightmare but I suspect that the battle to get the insurance company to repay the money they stole from Mom has a part in it. Right now though Pixie is crying and I need to go to her. We both loved Mom so much. She was as much a caregiver as I was and that is a lot to ask of a three year old cat.
The late Peter Finch in the movie “Network” said the immortal lines, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more.” That is how I feel right now and I want the world to know how United Healthcare rips off the dead. This is my story.
In April of this year my Mom got tired of paying the high premiums to United Healthcare for her secondary insurance to Medicare. She paid $153.50 a month for nothing. They hardly ever paid a dime on any of her bills. I finally convinced her to check out something else and we made arrangements to go with Banker’s Life. Banker’s Life informed United Healthcare of this and that as of June 1st Mom was changing her insurance. Mom died suddenly on May 26th. Since that time United Healthcare has taken out the June and July premiums for an insurance that was canceled on a woman they had been informed was dead.
I have faxed copies of the death certificate and emailed them over a half a dozen times. I have called continuously. I have been given the run around. Still no refund of the money. I filed charges on line with Indiana’s State Attorney General’s Office against United Healthcare a few minutes ago but I want to do more. I want people to know just how dishonest these people are. They have taken $307.00 from a dead woman’s account on insurance that she had canceled on the first part and when they knew she was deceased on the second part.
For those idiots who want to repeal the health care reform I promise you that you will have me at your throats letting the people you are trying to convince that reform is bad know that you are liars in cahoots with insurance companies who rip off the dead. It is hard enough emotionally to come home and see your mother dead with out having rip off artists stealing her money. I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more.
The last two months have been so difficult with trying to cope with Mom’s death. Knowing that her heart could go at any moment did not prepare me for her actually going. My brother and I have been pushing ourselves trying to get everything done now. Last night we came to the realization that we needed to give ourselves time. I have been frustrated because I couldn’t force myself to go through Mom’s clothes. I couldn’t seem to find the energy to go through the closets and drawers and everything that had accumulated over the last few years not only from Mom but of Dad’s things too. We just couldn’t do it.
Last night Mike and I decided to concentrate on getting through the winter here and this Spring we can get the house ready to sell, We are going to give ourselves the time we need to heal. I am going to concentrate on giving Merlin and Pixie the time they need to heal. We are going to stop and smell the roses.
Merlin and Pixie are in the process of trying to come to an agreement on sharing Mommy. It is a reluctant agreement on their parts because they both want to be an only child and have me to themselves. Merlin has decided since I finally figured out that he wanted his own litter box that he will use it and not the bed or rugs to go on. He and Pixie have been switching places with Pixie being upstairs much of the time and he is taking over the downstairs. They share the bed time with me. In time Pixie may even realize that I’m not going to leave her a three in the morning and will let me sleep in.
It was a difficult realization that I couldn’t keep going the way I have been. For my sake and for the cats sake I need to just pull back and take it easy. After being a caregiver for six years I need to give some care to myself.
When something happens one time you accept it as okay. If it happens a second time it might be a coincident. However, when it happens three, four, five times then you start wondering why? Why is Pixie waking me up at a few minutes past 3:00 AM?
It has been two months now since we lost Mom. Pixie had always been her cat. I will never forget my surprise when I came down three years ago to get my morning coffee and this little black cat waltzed out of Mom’s bedroom liked she owned the place. Mom of course put it on me saying that I wanted another cat. I thought she was kidding about adopting one of the litter that had been born in our storage shed. Little did I know that she had been letting one of the kittens in and feeding her and giving her the run of the house.
Pixie fits her name. She is a little rascal. She is into everything and everything is a toy. She is loving and funny and a brat. Mom loved her and Pixie had picked Mom out to be her special person. She added three years to my Mom’s life. She was with her when she died and stayed with her until my brother got home from work and could take over.
Pixie has decided that I’m her person now. She runs to greet me when I get home from work and wants to be held and cuddled. She stays close to me when I’m home. My brother is her go to person to get kitty treats. My Mom had spoiled her with deli meat and my brother continues to spoil her that way. I spoil her with hugs and cuddles.
For most of my adult life I had been a two cat household. When I lost Sasha a few years ago I had decided to just have the one cat. Merlin had always been a Mommy’s Boy. He had come into my life at the age of four weeks from a litter which the mother cat had abandoned. I had fed him bottles and he sucked on my fingers when he was stressed. He loved being an only child. Merlin hasn’t been too happy with Pixie deciding I was her Mommy now. He really isn’t into sharing. He also misses Mom because she would come upstairs and talk to him. They were two senior citizens together. He misses Mom. We all do.
A couple of weeks ago I realized I was no longer thinking of Pixie as Mom’s cat. She had become my cat. Pixie came to the conclusion at the same time. It was at that time that the 3:00 AM waking me up started. It wasn’t until two nights ago that I realized why. When it first happened I thought maybe she had a kitty nightmare. The second time I thought may be a coincident. As it continued to happen I wasn’t sure what was going on.
The doctor wasn’t sure exactly when Mom passed away but it was sometime during the night. I now know it had to have been a few minutes after 3:00 AM. Pixie must have tried to “wake” Mom up but of course it wasn’t possible to do so. Mom died instantaneously. Her heart just stopped. As Pixie has moved on to me being her person she is still haunted by that time that she tried and failed to wake Mom up. She is waking me up because she needs to know that this person isn’t leaving her. She is scared. In time the fear will go away and she will sleep through the night again knowing that I’ll be awake in the morning and pet her. In the meantime Cyndi Lauper’s song “Time After Time” is Pixie and my song.
Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
and think of you
caught up in circles confusion--
is nothing new Flashback--warm nights--
almost left behind
suitcases of memories, time after--
sometimes you picture me--
I'm walking too far ahead
you're calling to me, I can't hear
what you've said--
Then you say--go slow--
I fall behind--
the second hand unwinds
chorus:
if you're lost you can look--and you will find me
time after time
if you fall I will catch you--I'll be waiting
time after time
after my picture fades and darkness has
turned to gray
watching through windows--you're wondering
if I'm OK
secrets stolen from deep inside
the drum beats out of time--
chorus:
if you're lost...
you said go slow--
I fall behind
the second hand unwinds--
chorus:
if you're lost...
...time after time
time after time
time after time
time after time
It is one month ago today that I entered my Mom’s bedroom to see her dead body lying on her bed, her sightless eyes starring at the ceiling, her mouth opened as it was when she was having trouble breathing. It is a sight that has haunted me ever since. I can banish the sight when it tries to force itself on my consciousness. What I can’t banish is the pain that seems to get progressively worse instead of better. I’ve learned a lot this last month though. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned.
I’ve learned that even though my older brother and I will never, ever agree on politics we can be there for each other. He has even been careful not to criticize Obama in front of me. Now that is real progress. I learned long ago that being one of the two real liberals in a family (the other being my niece) of conservatives is not all that easy. My Dad was middle of the road and so is my middle brother. The others are dyed in the wool conservatives and as long as we keep off of politics we can talk to each other some times. Mike has been a tower of strength for me.
I’ve learned that sometimes you have to just pick up the phone and yell and cry and finally you can talk with family and they can understand. I learned that sometimes the old saying that there is a reason the word ass is in assume is true. If we had been given the chance my older brother and I could have explained the Memorial Mass was not something Mom was opposed to. I had talked to her a month before she died and specifically asked her if we could have Masses said in her memory. We knew she didn’t want a big fancy funeral Mass and procession to the cemetery. That wasn’t what was planned or what we did. Sometimes you have to let the others know the pain that was caused by their silence and refusal to even talk to us. I made the call and at least with one brother the healing has started. I emotionally can not do another call right now. I’ll let the one brother pass the message onto the other.
I have learned that people I have not met in person can still be some of the most loving and generous people around. I am very grateful to the people over at Daily Kos and Street Prophets for their help and love through this last month. I appreciate you putting up with all the diaries about Pixie and Merlin.
I especially appreciate just how much comfort two vastly different cats can be. Pixie is full of energy and love. She lets me know that I am now Mommy although the little brat has realized my brother is up and is down begging meat from him. Merlin is back to being his old grouchy, set in his ways, self although come thunderstorms and he is right there expecting Mommy to take care of him. I cherish their love and idiosyncrasies. Now if I can just get the two of them to stop fighting all the time. Boy do I sound like my Mom right at the moment.
I made it through the first month. I realize it will continue to be hard until we can get all the financial things taken care of. We have a house that we have to somehow get cleaned out from my pack-rat mother’s possessions. She was a Depression kid and saved every thing and bought every thing that was on sale. Right now we have enough toilet paper and paper towels to tepee the entire town twice. We have to somehow get everything fixed up and get the house sold and figure out where to live next. My brother wants to stay here. My niece wants me is North Carolina. My friend Colleen wants me to move in with them in California. I just want to be able to figure out how to make the rest of my life happen.
After six years of being a caregiver for Mom at her request I now need to figure out how to live my own life. It isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. It is hard to think about me when you have spent six years of thinking about someone else. Most of all I wish I could stop crying so much. I know that time heals but it is sure taking a long time. I sometimes feel like saying “God give me patience and I want it now!”
On Wednesday of last week we laid my Mom to rest burying her ashes on Dad’s grave. It was hard to comprehend that the small urn was all that was left of Mother’s mortal remains. Mom wasn’t that big. When she died she was only 94 pounds. It has been an emotional roller coaster this last week and a half for me. I find myself in frequent tears. I have been reflecting on little things since then.
At 8½ pounds Pixie is probably a normal to medium size cat. Compared to Merlin who is 17½ pounds she is little. What isn’t surprising is that for someone that little she is big when it comes to her need for affection and the love that she returns. Pixie has been all over me since Mom died. She has decided that my brother is good for feeding her the deli meat treats but I am supposed to continue to give her the love and affection that Mom gave her. She always came to greet me when Mom was alive unless of course she was curled up on Mom’s lap. Lap time was sacred. For the first time she has gone back into Mom’s bedroom. I went in for the first time in a couple of weeks to get the jewelry and get it sorted out. Pixie joined me and then came upstairs to “help.” It was healing for both of us to go back into the room where Mom died.
For many people a computer is no big thing. We are so used to working on computers that we take them for granted either that or if you have a garbage system like we have at work you call them every name in the book. When my art/internet computer died my Mom insisted on buying me a new computer. We had our tech at work build a system for me that was geared to my needs. The system itself isn’t large but the speed and computing power makes it a huge machine for me. It was a wonderful gift from my Mom and every time I use it I say a silent thank you to her. For Mom it wasn’t a big deal. She had paid for two computers for my brother and insisted that she could buy me one too. Of course the first major work out for the new machine was the two dozen Easter cards that I made for her. So something that was a little thing for Mom is a big thing for me.
When I first got my Merlin he was four weeks old and fit in the palm of my hand. I didn’t expect him to get this big. Of course in his eyes he is still the tiny little kitten that I first brought home. For something that started out that little he certainly has brought a lot of joy into my life. He has a definite personality and is the biggest Mama’s boy you have ever seen. My little fluff ball is a big bundle of love.
I like taking pictures especially pictures of flowers and nature. For me walking for an hour or so taking pictures is no big thing. I get my exercise and have fun with my digital camera at the same time. For my Mom and my Aunt however the pictures were received with a huge amount of joy. Both of them love flowers and looked forward to seeing the pictures. My Mom would occasionally note that something was coming into bloom and would ask if I could get some pictures for her. It isn’t hard for me to take pictures and tweak them in Photoshop and print them out on my computer. So something that is a little thing for me brought a lot of joy to my Mom. I’m going out this weekend and take pictures of the golden lilies that are now blooming. We plan on going up to see my Aunt Bird soon and I will take the pictures to her. She is my Mom’s only living sibling now and I cherish her and she loves my photographs so I will continue to take pictures for her. I took the cloud picture a couple days after Mom died. It has been a symbol of love and hope for me because I believe at that moment my Mom was trying to tell me that she was okay and happy.
As the saying goes good things come in small packages. It is the little things that I am remembering about my Mom. I am daily reminded of her as I give love to her little Pixie. Pixie and Merlin continue to give me love back. As a Hawaiian friend of mine would say it ain’t no big thing.
Today marked the final journey for my mother. We got the urn with her ashes and they are being interred next to Dad. Their were just my brother and I along with our priest, Father Steve, and the representative of the funeral home. My brother remarked that today was harder then the Memorial service last Wednesday. I think because we were alone today it did feel a lot harder. I was greeted by Mom’s cat Pixie as I came home. She stays close to me now and I am the designated Mommy. Our hospital chaplain, also named Father Steve, told me after the Memorial service that I needed to do a special picture for my Mom. I finished it last night.
The picture is called “Pat.” It was years before I realized that my Mom’s real name was Mary Jane and not Pat. Everyone I knew called her Pat. It was one of those “huh” moments for a child and of course I had to find out how they get Pat out of Mary Jane. Mom was so proud of being half Irish. When she was a child her friends called her St. Patrick and then shortened it to Pat and Pat she always was.
I had always hoped to take Mom to Ireland. I made sure she had a St. Patrick’s Day card from me and for the last few years an Irish themed picture to go with it. The picture is my interpretation of an Irish farmyard. Mom was always a farm girl at heart. She never was comfortable in big cities and big city traffic. I put the lady in the picture wearing Irish clothes. Even though Mom always felt she was a farm girl I figured in my eyes she was much more then that. The “Irish Princess” dress just seemed to suit her. Mom had red hair when she was younger and with the hazel eyes and freckles she looked Irish. Of course the lady had to have red hair too.
When she was a teenager Mom had a pet chicken named Nancy. Her Mom, who wasn’t the most sympathetic of people, actually let Mom stay home from school for three days after the chicken died because Mom was so upset. So of course I had to put a chicken in the picture. I put the sheep in the picture to represent the Irish woolens. My Dad was definitely a city boy. My Mom was trying to compliment him on his big brown eyes and told him he had eyes like a cow. So of course I had to put a cow in the picture. While Mom never had rabbits I put one in the picture because she always loved the feel of rabbit fur. She would pet my sister-in-law’s pet bunny whenever she went to their house.
Mom always fed the squirrels. Her cat Pixie loved to sit in the dining room window and watch the squirrels. Sometimes she would race from window to window to keep “her” squirrels in sight. One day Mom had baked brownies and had put the oven at too high of a temperature. The brownies really weren’t edible but she figured there was no sense in wasting them so she dumped the 13x9x2 inch pan of brownies outside for the squirrels and birds to eat. A couple of the squirrels tried to pull that entire huge brownie from the front yard to the tree with their nest in it. Mom thought that was one of the funniest sights she had ever seen. She laughed about that for months. I put a cookie in the squirrel paws in honor of the many cookies that Mom put out for them. I still try and put food out for the squirrels and birds in honor of Mom and Dad who both fed the animals. The designated feeding spot is in front of a statue of St. Francis that my parents have in the front yard. Mom was always a dog person.
For several years she was devoted to her dog Ruffles. She mourned the dog all her life, Considering that Ruffles was pure mutt, a little cocker and a little German Shepherd and who knows what else, it was hard to find a model of a dog that looked like her. I settled on the black and tan puppy because it looks a bit like Ruffles if she had had short ears instead of floppy ones. I couldn’t do a Mom picture without putting a dog in there.
The monarch butterfly has a special meaning. My Dad had been out planting a bush when he keeled over and was dead before he hit the ground from a massive heart attack. Mom says she was outside and watching the ambulance people trying to revive Dad and knowing that it was too late. There are few butterflies where we live. Mom says that a Monarch butterfly landed on the bush that Dad had planted and she knew then that Dad was telling her that it was alright. Mom was a fervent believer in Heaven and she felt that Dad was telling her that he had reached his destination there and that she would join him when it was time. She felt a wave of peace rushing over her.
The two cats are of course Pixie and Merlin. Pixie is the little black cat reaching up and trying to play tag with the butterfly. Merlin is the silver tabby walking with the lady. In real life Merlin is that big. He hits me at the knees when he rubs against me and when he stands on his hind paws he can put his front paws around my waist. I put birds in the picture because Mom was always looking out for them and would put food out for them in addition to the food for the squirrels. Mom has always loved rainbows and I put the rainbow in the picture in honor of her. She always loved it when my pictures had rainbows and I frequently used rainbow textures in pictures for her.
Mom always loved roses so of course I had to put roses in the picture. I put a rose in the lady’s hand. My brother told me to pick out the urn for Mom. He trusted that I would pick one that Mom would have loved. I chose one that had 3D roses on it. It is simple and beautiful and very much like my mother.
I finished the picture with a church and a Celtic cross. For my Mom her Catholic faith was a major part of her life. She rarely missed Mass on Sundays. I couldn’t do a picture that represented her without putting a church in it. So this was Pat. She finished her mortal journey today with the burial of the ashes. She is reunited in death with her husband of 55 years. I believe that spiritually she is reunited with him too.
For me the journey is just beginning. We still have financial things to figure out and the rest of Mom’s belongings to go through and sort. I need to figure out where I want to live and more and more it looks like I will join my niece and her family in North Carolina. I originally came here because Mom had asked me to come and help take care of her. She knew that her heart could go at any moment. I took care of her for six years and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. It has made me aware of the challenges that caregivers face. In honor of my Mom I want to continue to help publicize the real needs and problems that caregivers face. It is a difficult job and there are many things that need to be done to help caregivers provide the best care possible. There are laws on the books that make it difficult for caregivers. I want to fight to make sure that caregivers have the resources necessary to provide quality care. It is my call to activism along with more and better health care. In honor of the little black cat that added three years to my Mom’s life I will also do what I can to make people aware of the needs of animals and to be responsible pet owners. These are the causes that I will honor my Mom Pat with. She always wanted to help others and I can think of no better gift then to do the same.
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