I should have written this Thursday, in the moments after my heart fell, but I didn’t. My instinct was to tell my partner, “I need a drink,” but I had enough presence of mind to know that doesn’t help. Instead, I retreated into my silent, contemplative self. We made an unscheduled stop at a wooded park near home, and walked the nature trails along the river. The gravity of it all, made me feel like I had been punched in the stomach. With each additional step, I felt my shoulders fall forward as my face grew longer. Too much reality, and too powerless to make a difference.

You can know the truth, but as long as it remains unspoken, it doesn’t carry the proper weight. False hope lies in the inability to articulate, but maybe it’s just denial. I would prefer to be kicked in the crotch with a steel toed shoe than entertain the prospect of being in denial. Premature mourning of anticipated disasters is my baby……not denial.

*****

I’m in awe of this online community… compassion, consolation, laughter, sharing, openness, trust, and honor among thieves. There is a special uninhibitedness in meeting people through words and brief excerpts, absent of accent, geography, social status, and age. It’s an openness seldom available in physical introductions, and an opportunity to meet the self prior to previewing the shell.

I had the pleasure and privilege of meeting some of you in person. I wouldn’t trade those experiences for anything. It never occurred there could be a residual effect to, sharing food and wine, walking, talking or seeing the whites of your eyes…

When I was younger and more socially inept than now, I forged a few relationships based on angst. I worried if I didn’t bring some form of depression or personal disaster to the table, then I didn’t have anything worthy of friendship. I feared I was uninteresting on ordinary days, so I held my angst close and nurtured it.

I finally realized, it was no way to live or forge relationships, and the pendulum swung in the opposite direction. Now, I go through periods of silence and stoical contemplation. I don’t want to whine, which is why I’ve posted so little of late.

I can’t talk to the Mister. He has his own guilt to contend with and I don’t want to add to it. I don’t want to burden him, nor do I want to portray him as the bad guy. I’m just beginning to understand what it was like growing up in a home in which love was the means to justify treating you kids like crap.

******

The Mister and I were driving back from his parent’s home. He had made preparations for freezing conditions the previous day. We checked out the homestead to make sure there were no frozen pipes or damage. Mister Hombre called his father at the assisted living facility (ALF) to report the homestead survived the freeze. Ole One Eye proceeded to harass him about new car tags so Mrs. One Eye could drive (she’s been advised not to by all her doctors). The conversation was lengthy and wore the Mister down.

Afterwards, I suggested the Mister that he and the brothers sell the cars. There is a power of attorney drawn up that would make the action legal. The Mister said, he was hesitant to sell the car because they might need it for a caregiver to drive them to Dr’s appointments should they return home. In that moment, I felt a little piece of myself die.

I haven’t remained HERE this year, so they could return home.

If you read the above paragraph, without comprehending the context, I sound like a complete bitch. I’m not in a position to deny my status, as there is too much published material to contradict it, but I feel compelled to offer a few points in my defense:

  • My top priorities for my in-laws are: their health, and their safety.
  • They may or may not have enough financial resources to remain in their home full-time with medical supervision.
  • They need 24 hour care (On this point, Mister Hombre and I agree)
  • They think their happiness depends upon returning home, but they seem to forget they weren’t happy at home prior to moving to the ALF.
  • We’ve remained here ostensibly to get the One Eye’s settled, and assist in protecting financial resources from the state, and see that certain medical needs are accomplished….Eleven months later, few of these goals have been attempted, much less accomplished.
  • The One Eyes make few attempts at hygiene. They smell, and wear the same clothes for days. The boys will not address this, and the ALF staff cannot force them to bathe.

Thanks. I’m not looking for answers, My solutions are not welcome by the Mister, and he has his own demons to consider. I’m only looking for fortitude.