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Your Most Disturbing Realizations
- Thread starter LizzieMaine
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ChiTownScion
Call Me a Cab
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Whenever you mention him Lizzie, I always think of a man who was handed golden opportunities in having a daughter like you but was too damned stupid to realize it. What father wouldn't want an intelligent, inquisitive, and hardworking daughter? Or son? How many wasted afternoons over the course of a lifetime, when he could have been spending time and discussing world events- or even personal dreams and aspirations- with a bright young mind? His loss- and it's a monumental loss.
I get the anger. It's justified: from all that you have said a number of lives were damaged as the result of his failures and vices. Sounds as if he has reaped just a tad of what he has sown-- so there is some cosmic balance in that.
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My wife was diagnosed with Early-Onset Alzheimer's Disease when she was 59 years old, but the symptoms began at least 10 years before that, just after she went through menopause--mild forgetfulness at first, then she forgot how to do certain tasks that she had been doing most of her adult life, and eventually couldn't remember how to use a spoon or fork so her sister or I would feed her. She would sometimes attempt to engage in whichever conversation was taking place in the TV show we were watching because she couldn't distinguish between those voices and voices of people in the room with her. Or she'd have a conversation with "The People Who Aren't There" (as we'd call them); sometimes in English, sometimes in a language that didn't seem to be "Earth based".
She would regularly have a "puzzled" expression on her face, as if she couldn't quite figure out what was going on around her (imaginary or not), or get frustrated because she couldn't be part of a conversation (again, imaginary or not). Confusion was also regular, often mixed with fear, and I quickly learned to modulate my voice to softer, more relaxed/less harsh tones that seemed to have a calming effect on her. As time passed it became more difficult to assess her mental status and/or how "present" she was at any given moment. Most of the time she seemed to know who I was, or at least understand I was there to help her; "You're my caregiver," was her response once when I asked if she knew who I was.
Equally shocking and surprising were the physical changes. She had been bedridden for the last 1-2 years because prior to that she would regularly fall down as if she suddenly forgot how to stand up; keeping her in bed was the simplest and best way to maintain her safety. Human muscle tissue begins to atrophy the moment we stop using it, so even though I/we were feeding her three meals daily that atrophy meant a tremendous weight loss.
"Hard to witness." Yeah.
Spent some weeks in hospital getting rid of my cancer. Laid on the back most of the time, only standing up for a visit in the porcelain department or later for washing.
Within two or three of the first weeks my calves turned to a skinny, wobbly mass. The rest of me didn’t look much better. Took the rest of the time there, climbing the stairs from 7th floor up and down for running any errand to rebuilt the muscles halfway.
After finishing the chemo to follow it took another weeks of rehab to halfway completely recover in physical matters.
Physical withering goes so very quickly…
The nurses in hospital told that smokers often get back on their feet way faster due to the ape sitting in their neck after a short while…
Within two or three of the first weeks my calves turned to a skinny, wobbly mass. The rest of me didn’t look much better. Took the rest of the time there, climbing the stairs from 7th floor up and down for running any errand to rebuilt the muscles halfway.
After finishing the chemo to follow it took another weeks of rehab to halfway completely recover in physical matters.
Physical withering goes so very quickly…
The nurses in hospital told that smokers often get back on their feet way faster due to the ape sitting in their neck after a short while…
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You got a lot on your plate, man. You have my respect for doing what you can for her.
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Thank you, I sincerely appreciate that. Sadly, it's no longer my duty; she passed on June 3rd. I had good people monitoring me the whole time, and I'm truly grateful for that.
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- My mother's basement
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August 22nd would have been (will be?) our 41st anniversary as husband and wife. I don't know what the protocol is, but if there's any form of "celebration" to mark the moment it will most likely be her sister and her husband, and I, sharing a small cake. They got married 35 days after us, so their 41st anniversary will be in September.
Thank you for asking!
Tiki Tom
My Mail is Forwarded Here
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^^^^ Be kind to yourself, my virtual friend. Goes without saying that I can’t even begin to imagine what you are going through. 41 years is a long Time. I hope the world gives you a free pass to take as much time as you need to process it, lean on people, take road trips, cry, rage… whatever it takes.
I will start posting more ridiculous nonsense on “Agents of F.L.A.S.K.” for You to react to, be incredulous about, and maybe have fun with (Or not). Stupid me, I know. But there you have it.
I will start posting more ridiculous nonsense on “Agents of F.L.A.S.K.” for You to react to, be incredulous about, and maybe have fun with (Or not). Stupid me, I know. But there you have it.
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Should I tell about my morbid dream, I had last night? Not about the box on the street, but the theatre.
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I sincerely appreciate the Agents of F.L.A.S.K. thread. At the very least I'm reading about things I'd never even heard of in most cases, so it's all new news to me. And thank you!
The experts say that when a person becomes chronically ill, family and friends have usually mourned their loss long before they actually die. To a degree that was true with me but, because my wife had been ill for so long, caring for her throughout her final years gave me the opportunity to fall in love with the "new" version of her. And, unfortunately for me, grieve her passing a second time. I really couldn't say if knowing in advance makes it easier to accept the death of a loved one (because you know it's coming); I think it's difficult regardless of the circumstances.
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^^^^^
As you mentioned a few days ago, by the time a person is diagnosed there might well have been signs of the condition for quite a while.
My wife’s dad, who I knew for 25 years, had for all that time spoken of his spiritual beliefs in ways that were wasted on me. It wasn’t just my skeptical nature at work, either. His ramblings on the matter weren’t consistent with themselves. At times his circular commentary had me on the verge of dizziness.
My wife told me that his thoughts were more coherent when she was a kid. So it appears his cognitive decline had been in progress several years ahead of the diagnosis.
He was a good guy, and a fine father to my wife and her sister. Seeing him slip away broke their hearts.
As you mentioned a few days ago, by the time a person is diagnosed there might well have been signs of the condition for quite a while.
My wife’s dad, who I knew for 25 years, had for all that time spoken of his spiritual beliefs in ways that were wasted on me. It wasn’t just my skeptical nature at work, either. His ramblings on the matter weren’t consistent with themselves. At times his circular commentary had me on the verge of dizziness.
My wife told me that his thoughts were more coherent when she was a kid. So it appears his cognitive decline had been in progress several years ahead of the diagnosis.
He was a good guy, and a fine father to my wife and her sister. Seeing him slip away broke their hearts.
Fifty150
One Too Many
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Where I live, it's a city, and a county. There are no unincorporated sections of the county. Both the city and the county have the same borders. So there is always infighting over what the responsibilities are of city agencies and county agencies. We do not have a city council. We have a Board of Supervisors. Once, the supervisors were elected to represent city and county interests for everybody. So if 20 people ran, the top vote getter would be the Board President, and the next 4 or 5 in line would fill the other seats on the board. There are now 11 districts, with a supervisor representing each district.
I live in a district, which is across town from where I "work". Being a lifelong resident, I am acquainted with the supervisors representing each district. The area in which I ply my trade is represented by a person whom I have been acquainted, for most of my life.
"So, 5150, are you going to support me for the next election cycle?".
Nope. I can't. I don't live here. I am only allowed to vote for the guy representing my home address.
"Well, you can still help. Door - to - door walks canvassing the district, hand out leaflets, post signs, come to the rallies. Maybe just word of mouth. People listen if you say you're backing me. Donate to my campaign fund. Just because you don't live here, I can still represent your interests in the district. I could sponsor an amendment to the local area parking permit regulations, to grant special permits for merchants and other essential services."
Let's pretend we are still cordial, and not having this conversation. It sounds too much like you are offering to sell me a parking sticker, if I give you money. If I were under surveillance right now, what you just said could be construed as misprision of office and soliciting a bribe. You would be an accidental white whale. The same way that they sent that State Senator to prison, when they had that murder suspect under surveillance.
"You don't have to write a check, for the official campaign limit. When we hold rallies, there's a drop box, just like at the front of a place of worship. People drop in anonymous cash donations all the time, and we can't control that. Your name doesn't have to be on it."
I gave him one of those hugs that you see gangsters on television do. I pulled him close, held onto him so that he couldn't wiggle away, and patted him down. I stuck my hand into his panties, just to be sure that he didn't have a third testicle shaped like a microphone. This guy is as dumb as a string of love beads. Or he is just so used to soliciting bribes, that it seems normal to say something like that. He's actually asking me to give him money, cash, off the books, in excess of campaign contribution limits.
The FBI has done quite a number on arresting our local politicians. Oddly enough, all of the politicians they have locked up, were part of the same clique. They all played for the same team. The guys and girls running against them don't get touched.
The disturbing realization of the day is that all the politicians are crooks, and half of them have enough influence to use the FBI to do their bidding.
I live in a district, which is across town from where I "work". Being a lifelong resident, I am acquainted with the supervisors representing each district. The area in which I ply my trade is represented by a person whom I have been acquainted, for most of my life.
"So, 5150, are you going to support me for the next election cycle?".
Nope. I can't. I don't live here. I am only allowed to vote for the guy representing my home address.
"Well, you can still help. Door - to - door walks canvassing the district, hand out leaflets, post signs, come to the rallies. Maybe just word of mouth. People listen if you say you're backing me. Donate to my campaign fund. Just because you don't live here, I can still represent your interests in the district. I could sponsor an amendment to the local area parking permit regulations, to grant special permits for merchants and other essential services."
Let's pretend we are still cordial, and not having this conversation. It sounds too much like you are offering to sell me a parking sticker, if I give you money. If I were under surveillance right now, what you just said could be construed as misprision of office and soliciting a bribe. You would be an accidental white whale. The same way that they sent that State Senator to prison, when they had that murder suspect under surveillance.
"You don't have to write a check, for the official campaign limit. When we hold rallies, there's a drop box, just like at the front of a place of worship. People drop in anonymous cash donations all the time, and we can't control that. Your name doesn't have to be on it."
I gave him one of those hugs that you see gangsters on television do. I pulled him close, held onto him so that he couldn't wiggle away, and patted him down. I stuck my hand into his panties, just to be sure that he didn't have a third testicle shaped like a microphone. This guy is as dumb as a string of love beads. Or he is just so used to soliciting bribes, that it seems normal to say something like that. He's actually asking me to give him money, cash, off the books, in excess of campaign contribution limits.
The FBI has done quite a number on arresting our local politicians. Oddly enough, all of the politicians they have locked up, were part of the same clique. They all played for the same team. The guys and girls running against them don't get touched.
The disturbing realization of the day is that all the politicians are crooks, and half of them have enough influence to use the FBI to do their bidding.
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- My mother's basement
A trip to Wisconsin late last month, to attend the funeral of an uncle (he was worth the trip), had me rubbing elbows with people — relatives, mostly — I hadn’t seen in a decade or more.
One cousin, a woman a couple years younger than me, told me of her fears that the cancer that killed her mother and two of her three sisters would be coming for her before long,
“Until next time,” my quite elderly mom said to an almost equally elderly aunt, who replied, “If there is a next time.”
There will not be a next time I’ll see most of those people.
I recall oldsters telling me decades ago that the hardest part of being of such an advanced age is losing so many of their closest people.
Most of my favorite people, the people I most enjoyed talking with (including the above-mentioned uncle), are gone now.
One cousin, a woman a couple years younger than me, told me of her fears that the cancer that killed her mother and two of her three sisters would be coming for her before long,
“Until next time,” my quite elderly mom said to an almost equally elderly aunt, who replied, “If there is a next time.”
There will not be a next time I’ll see most of those people.
I recall oldsters telling me decades ago that the hardest part of being of such an advanced age is losing so many of their closest people.
Most of my favorite people, the people I most enjoyed talking with (including the above-mentioned uncle), are gone now.
There is a saying that you cannot choose your relatives.
Wrong, you can, at least those you don't want to have anything to do with.
There's no reason to be friendly with or even meet people who think they could behave like a..holes just because you happen to share a tiny snippet of the gene pool with those hunchbacked tribes.
That realization took me thirty years of lifetime and some serious trouble with those folks. But looking back I’m way better off ever since then, it was all worth it.
Wrong, you can, at least those you don't want to have anything to do with.
There's no reason to be friendly with or even meet people who think they could behave like a..holes just because you happen to share a tiny snippet of the gene pool with those hunchbacked tribes.
That realization took me thirty years of lifetime and some serious trouble with those folks. But looking back I’m way better off ever since then, it was all worth it.
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I have a brother I wouldn’t have the time of day for if not for his being a brother.
He isn’t totally devoid of quasi-redeeming virtues. He isn’t much given to violence, I’m confident he loves his children and grandchildren, he remains devoted to our mother. Three of his four wives, including the current one, are (or were; one is deceased) lovely women, each in her way, and they found something lovable in him.
I doubt any person who did business with him would do so again. He’s dishonest (the stories I could tell) and often takes pleasure in being a prick. He can’t go more than a minute or two without saying something he knows will irritate the other party. He thinks it’s funny.
Rightly or wrongly, people license behavior in relatives they wouldn’t tolerate in others. I don’t know whom to credit with the observation that people, youngsters especially, who need love the most ask for it in the most unlovable ways. My brother is among those who, in that regard, never grew up.
He isn’t totally devoid of quasi-redeeming virtues. He isn’t much given to violence, I’m confident he loves his children and grandchildren, he remains devoted to our mother. Three of his four wives, including the current one, are (or were; one is deceased) lovely women, each in her way, and they found something lovable in him.
I doubt any person who did business with him would do so again. He’s dishonest (the stories I could tell) and often takes pleasure in being a prick. He can’t go more than a minute or two without saying something he knows will irritate the other party. He thinks it’s funny.
Rightly or wrongly, people license behavior in relatives they wouldn’t tolerate in others. I don’t know whom to credit with the observation that people, youngsters especially, who need love the most ask for it in the most unlovable ways. My brother is among those who, in that regard, never grew up.
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My Mother was fortunate to live to see her 95th birthday. She had her health, physical and mental, until her 94th year when things started to break down. One of the hardest things to witness was her losing.....everybody except us kids. Her husband, brothers, sisters, old work mates, friends, neighbours......at the end she was the last person standing of her entire social circle. My mom was not a talker so she never communicated the pain I know she was experiencing.
LizzieMaine
Bartender
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I have had no contact with my sister for almost twenty years, since the day she threw me out of her house for buying her kids a pizza. Somehow I've lived without her, and will continue to do so into the indefinite future. Life's too short to waste it on people who don't like pizza.
ChiTownScion
Call Me a Cab
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The straw that broke it with my sister was when (six years ago) she told my wife that (after our marriage of over three decades) that she only "put up" with her because she loved me. I don't need or want that kind of "love." From anyone.
The break was bound to come sooner or later. She & her husband are religious fundamentalists who labor under the delusion that they are owed a living by others who have to deal with their "our way or the highway" attitude. Neither one of them have ever bothered to exert the effort to either obtain a higher education or learn a trade: the retirement plan was always to suck up to relatives and hope that an inheritence would bankroll their golden years. She did manage to get the entire inheritence of a bachelor uncle, not offering to share so much as a nickel with five other family survivors. The good news is that her lifelong lack of self control will assure that said money will be piddled away before she actually needs it.
We've ended contact with both her and my wife's sister and their respective families. Pizza or no pizza, any relationship that brings more grief than joy to the table needs to be ended, again, owing to the brevity of life. We're a lot happier since we don't have to deal with them- and that's all that matters. Never understood that crap that was fed to us as kids about having to get along with someone because they're a sibling. Better well chosen friends than tolerated relations, say I.
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My sister and I have differing views on many matters. There are topics we both know not to broach in each other’s company. Unlike our other surviving sibling (the brother alluded to a little higher up in this thread), neither she nor I go looking for disagreement for the sport of it. It’s a game we’d rather not play.
She and I are in near absolute agreement on the matter of our mother, though. Mom is fading. There’s no denying it. She still lives on her own in her cute little house in the cute little resort town where has lived for something like 25 years now. My sister lives in that town, in the warm months, as do two of mom’s granddaughters and five of her great-grandchildren. But sister and I know it is getting to where our mom will no longer be physically able to live on her own anymore, even if mom herself doesn’t know it. And we know our mom well enough to know that she’ll be resistant to living elsewhere or having people come in daily to assist her. She’d likely try to run them off.
Mom has some scratch. Her financial circumstances have substantially improved since her spendthrift husband croaked, in summer of 2015. And both my sister and I are able to kick a little something extra her way. So it’s not that she is facing destitution.
The assertiveness and willfulness that served her well in her younger days isn’t doing her any good now. No amount of will can turn back the clock.
She and I are in near absolute agreement on the matter of our mother, though. Mom is fading. There’s no denying it. She still lives on her own in her cute little house in the cute little resort town where has lived for something like 25 years now. My sister lives in that town, in the warm months, as do two of mom’s granddaughters and five of her great-grandchildren. But sister and I know it is getting to where our mom will no longer be physically able to live on her own anymore, even if mom herself doesn’t know it. And we know our mom well enough to know that she’ll be resistant to living elsewhere or having people come in daily to assist her. She’d likely try to run them off.
Mom has some scratch. Her financial circumstances have substantially improved since her spendthrift husband croaked, in summer of 2015. And both my sister and I are able to kick a little something extra her way. So it’s not that she is facing destitution.
The assertiveness and willfulness that served her well in her younger days isn’t doing her any good now. No amount of will can turn back the clock.
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