Whose stupid idea was hormones, anyway? I find it almost incomprehensible that the human race has survived it's procreative process. Apparently men aren't easily daunted? Women, even after experiencing pregnancy and childbirth, will decide to propagate yet again? Puberty, with it's first flush of raging sexuality, may explain an initial preoccupation. But, adolescents are terminally annoying! Why doesn't the irritation override the attraction?
Then in young adulthood the real horror of PMS takes over. You've got seven days of active menstruation - bleeding, bloating, cramps, followed by a week's worth of ovulation woes - food cravings, excitability, sleeplessness, followed by one pretty good day - but you're exhausted from the tribulations of the past two weeks, followed by a week to ten days of pure emotional hell. Not much of a window of opportunity. But, love finds a way...and you spend the next two decades raising the fruits of those ten minute intervals.
So, what's natures reward? Menopause!
I'm actually in the throes of perimenopause. Thank you, Experts, so much for clarifying that for me! According to these Experts, who should all rot in hell, perimenopause are the 5-15 YEARS leading up to a 12 month cessation of menstruation, after which you can say you are menopausal. During this interminable time you will experience hot flashes, mood swings, crushing fatigue, mental confusion, loss of libido, feelings of dread, there are 35 listed here: http://www.project-aware.org/Experience/symptoms.shtml. Ok, that may be technically correct...but, right now I'm using the term "menopausal" as a synonym for "raging ax-murderer", which is what I could become before ultimately making it to the nirvana that is postmenopause: brittle bones, facial hair, abdominal fat distribution, dry skin, thinning hair and incontinence.
I can get sooooo angry...and irrational.
I'm pretty much void of "warm fuzzes". If I'm not actively irritated, than I'm inwardly hyperventilating. I'd really rather you didn't touch me...don't even talk to me...stop LOOKING at me! I feel overwhelmed. Don't get in my way! Don't ask me to deviate from my projected course, and, for god's sake, don't ask me anything and expect a civil reply!
I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, which involves multi-tasking. "Sudden lack of multi-tasking ability" should be listed under the previously mentioned list of perimenopauseal symptoms. In addition to putting the dishes into the dishwasher, washing the dishes that can't go into the dishwasher, wiping the counters, & refrigerating the leftovers, I'm getting the grandsons more chocolate milk and/or lemonade, monitoring video game play, feeding the Princess a bottle, and kicking the cat out of the way. Tall One picks this exact moment to ask me if I want to bike to the Rotary picnic tomorrow night. My response wasn't pretty...and lasted about 20 minutes...for which I apologized repeatedly over the next 36 hours.
When I'm not flying off, irrationally, at the smallest provocation, I'm just idiotic.
My interpersonal barometer is stuck on "lacking social skills". It's not just that I say stupid things...I've always done that, and could laugh at myself and move on...I'm just ridiculous, and then I freeze. I'm imagining it's embarrassing. It would be embarrassing if I had the capacity to discern. My mind, for days at a time, is just a fuzzy blank.
I ran into a couple of friends while out walking with the Pretty Princess this morning. The first, a couple, were going into the coffee shop. I haven't seen the wife in many months and she looked fantastic! She'd lost weight, and was blond with a GREAT cut. Really sharp. My witty comment on her weight loss consisted of, "Starving?"...yup, that's what I said. I have a vague remembrance of stammering other sentences that I hope conveyed the underlying delight in seeing her and just how impressed I am at her stunning transformation...at least I'm assuming I would be delighted and impressed if I were capable of feeling anything over the oppressive confusion and stifling intellectual lethargy!
Then, Pretty Princess and I stopped by the local farmers' market. I'm pretty sure I was stupid at the two stands from which I purchased products, and maybe a bit moronic to the others as I smiled, nodded, and drooled some sort of mumbled attempted witticism as we walked past. Then I saw a dear friend. He's a joker. So I greeted him with, "Oh, I was hoping I didn't run into anyone I knew! ha, ha, ha!" I know, it doesn't make any sense, it didn't at the time, it never will. It's just hanging out there in conversational purgatory...the poor man probably thinks I'm brain damaged. I'm surprised he didn't call a family member to come and pick me up!
And, now I'm sitting here, with Spongebob Squarepants on the television, trying to put three or four words together to make some sort of understandable sentence, and it's just impossible. I usually save posts, emails, and other internet contributions from these mentally challenged ramblings, for times when I'm able to THINK, critique and correct, but, I'm going to go ahead and post this...if it doesn't make sense, perhaps you'll understand...if it does make any sense at all...well, damn, I'm good!
Oh, and I have cramps, and I'm bleeding to death.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
"Not Again....and again...and again..."
It's a lazy Sunday morning....
If I had my way, and I often do, all mornings would be lazy. I used to "hit the ground running". But, that was before "the decline". I hit a wall, physically, somewhere in my mid-forties...and I've never been the same. The "coup de grace" came in the form of a great personal accomplishment. I ran a marathon. In 5 hours, 18 minutes. It was the most glorious run of my life. The training almost killed me....I'm not speaking figuratively...and I've barely run since then. The spirit is willing. I miss running.
I'm a spectator in my inevitable physical decline. I expected this. I also expected that as my physical self deteriorated, my character would compensate....stop laughing...this is serious...
I am greatly troubled by my lack of integrity. I am 53 years old...and I'm desperately hoping that integrity is not a finite, fixed entity, that we aren't born with a certain amount, determined by genetics, and that's all there is - sorry.
I look at my husband, especially, and the children we've produced, and I'm shocked and amazed as the integrity oozes from every pore. They make it seem so natural, so effortless. They know just what needs to be done/said/believed and then they do/say/believe it! And, it's always fair, right, just, and magnanimous. I, on the hand, have to think, fumble, blunder into an action, then excuse, regret, and apologize for the dismal mess I made of the most innocuous situation. I will illustrate:
Daughter and I were in a grocery outlet the other day. At the checkout, I dropped the glass jar of marshmallow fluff on the floor (clumsiness is apparently another benefit of "the decline"). Fortunately, it did not shatter into a million pieces, although that would have solved the ensuring dilemma quite nicely. It would have taken any ambiguous course of action completely out of my hands, cause you HAVE to deal with a smashed jar of marshmallow cream by calling attention to it...especially in the presence of store employee witnesses. What did happen was that the jar lid cracked. I put it on the shelf and asked Daughter to get me another jar. I'm sure the clerks SAW what happened, I don't know what they THOUGHT. Daughter asked if I wanted to say something about the damaged jar with a gesture, look, and question...and I waved it off with a cavalier flair. Moments later, in the car, on the way home, the wrongness of my actions registered.
Why don't simple, honest, honorable decisions come naturally to me? Why did I immediately react as I did, by denying the obvious and taking the low road? I think this is a fundamental flaw. One, I recognize, and can sometimes have the presence of mind to override. But, what is it I lack - or possess - that causes matters of morals and conscience to loom so large in the minutia of daily interactions?
Am I fundamentally dishonest? Immature? Self absorbed? I should have been past this at puberty!
Anyone have a cave I can crawl into? Because my own solution of "try, try again" is getting awfully old, feeble and ridiculous....not unlike me....*sigh*
If I had my way, and I often do, all mornings would be lazy. I used to "hit the ground running". But, that was before "the decline". I hit a wall, physically, somewhere in my mid-forties...and I've never been the same. The "coup de grace" came in the form of a great personal accomplishment. I ran a marathon. In 5 hours, 18 minutes. It was the most glorious run of my life. The training almost killed me....I'm not speaking figuratively...and I've barely run since then. The spirit is willing. I miss running.
I'm a spectator in my inevitable physical decline. I expected this. I also expected that as my physical self deteriorated, my character would compensate....stop laughing...this is serious...
I am greatly troubled by my lack of integrity. I am 53 years old...and I'm desperately hoping that integrity is not a finite, fixed entity, that we aren't born with a certain amount, determined by genetics, and that's all there is - sorry.
I look at my husband, especially, and the children we've produced, and I'm shocked and amazed as the integrity oozes from every pore. They make it seem so natural, so effortless. They know just what needs to be done/said/believed and then they do/say/believe it! And, it's always fair, right, just, and magnanimous. I, on the hand, have to think, fumble, blunder into an action, then excuse, regret, and apologize for the dismal mess I made of the most innocuous situation. I will illustrate:
Daughter and I were in a grocery outlet the other day. At the checkout, I dropped the glass jar of marshmallow fluff on the floor (clumsiness is apparently another benefit of "the decline"). Fortunately, it did not shatter into a million pieces, although that would have solved the ensuring dilemma quite nicely. It would have taken any ambiguous course of action completely out of my hands, cause you HAVE to deal with a smashed jar of marshmallow cream by calling attention to it...especially in the presence of store employee witnesses. What did happen was that the jar lid cracked. I put it on the shelf and asked Daughter to get me another jar. I'm sure the clerks SAW what happened, I don't know what they THOUGHT. Daughter asked if I wanted to say something about the damaged jar with a gesture, look, and question...and I waved it off with a cavalier flair. Moments later, in the car, on the way home, the wrongness of my actions registered.
Why don't simple, honest, honorable decisions come naturally to me? Why did I immediately react as I did, by denying the obvious and taking the low road? I think this is a fundamental flaw. One, I recognize, and can sometimes have the presence of mind to override. But, what is it I lack - or possess - that causes matters of morals and conscience to loom so large in the minutia of daily interactions?
Am I fundamentally dishonest? Immature? Self absorbed? I should have been past this at puberty!
Anyone have a cave I can crawl into? Because my own solution of "try, try again" is getting awfully old, feeble and ridiculous....not unlike me....*sigh*
Friday, April 23, 2010
Guilt 101
Wow! Can it almost be a YEAR since I've posted?? Actually, it seems much longer.....
I live in a state of constant self-imposed guilt...because I firmly believe that NO ONE can impose guilt on you! Oh, they can try...but, if you aren't predisposed to assume the guilt it just rolls off you like water off a duck's back! I, apparently, am a sponge...sucking up the guilt from the air like a dehumidifier!
I can NEVER do enough, be enough, care enough to do or be enough! It probably started with Nana...and unrealistic expectations. Then it was fanned and nurtured by years in a fundamentalist Christian religious cult! I probably should seek therapy...but boxed wine is much cheaper and infinitely more enjoyable.
And, I'm tired. Bone tired. I'm not sure what that's about. I'm assuming it's something to do with hormonal fluctuations precipitated by change-of-life. But, who knows.
I'm not a bad person...I'm probably on the "good person" end of the spectrum...and yet, I can't rid myself of the nagging suspicion that I'm selfish.
There's a mocking bird singing in our evergreen tree as I write this. I am a Mocking Bird. I can assimilate others needs and I'm content, indeed it is my gift, to regurgitate these needs in action. I am good at this. I am content with this.....and yet....
There is a part of me that always falls short, that fails. I want desperately to have an excuse...but, there is no excuse that satisfies.
This has been a glorious day. As I sit here the moon can be seen in a blue, blue sky rising just above our newly blooming oak tree. The sun is shining, but not hotly. The birds are indeed singing and our lovely baby grand-girl (now a year old) is talking loudly in her crib. I love my life. I do. And, yet, if I'm still and quiet I feel, acutely the pain in a dear friend dying, my mother's declining physical condition and continuing neurosis-es, Daughter's pain in a difficult marital situation, the potential distruction in the lives of our grandsons (only imagined, but possible). And it's my fault. It is. Damn.
I live in a state of constant self-imposed guilt...because I firmly believe that NO ONE can impose guilt on you! Oh, they can try...but, if you aren't predisposed to assume the guilt it just rolls off you like water off a duck's back! I, apparently, am a sponge...sucking up the guilt from the air like a dehumidifier!
I can NEVER do enough, be enough, care enough to do or be enough! It probably started with Nana...and unrealistic expectations. Then it was fanned and nurtured by years in a fundamentalist Christian religious cult! I probably should seek therapy...but boxed wine is much cheaper and infinitely more enjoyable.
And, I'm tired. Bone tired. I'm not sure what that's about. I'm assuming it's something to do with hormonal fluctuations precipitated by change-of-life. But, who knows.
I'm not a bad person...I'm probably on the "good person" end of the spectrum...and yet, I can't rid myself of the nagging suspicion that I'm selfish.
There's a mocking bird singing in our evergreen tree as I write this. I am a Mocking Bird. I can assimilate others needs and I'm content, indeed it is my gift, to regurgitate these needs in action. I am good at this. I am content with this.....and yet....
There is a part of me that always falls short, that fails. I want desperately to have an excuse...but, there is no excuse that satisfies.
This has been a glorious day. As I sit here the moon can be seen in a blue, blue sky rising just above our newly blooming oak tree. The sun is shining, but not hotly. The birds are indeed singing and our lovely baby grand-girl (now a year old) is talking loudly in her crib. I love my life. I do. And, yet, if I'm still and quiet I feel, acutely the pain in a dear friend dying, my mother's declining physical condition and continuing neurosis-es, Daughter's pain in a difficult marital situation, the potential distruction in the lives of our grandsons (only imagined, but possible). And it's my fault. It is. Damn.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Hopeful Email.
Since speaking to our nephew concerning Older Son, I've left one voice mail message. It was very short and very vague, and I've wanted to post an email with a little more information. Until this morning, I didn't feel settled or confident enough to write anything.
After speaking with Daughter and especially Tall One, and some other close confidants, I decided to stop operating under D.I.L.ly's bizarre, ever changing expectations. I decided to once again treat my son honestly as a rational adult. I feel good about the email, the wording and the timing. When Tall One gets home from his golf game and charity event, I'll have him read it, and call O.S. to let him know we sent it.
Following is the message:
Dear O.S.,
Dad and I have been wanting to send you an email since talking to Oldest Nephew. We left one voice message on your phone, but, we want to communicate a little more about how we feel. We want you to have all the time you need to decide when (and if) to contact us.
I was sad to hear that D.I.L.ly left. Dad and I are so proud of the way you supported her. We wouldn't have expected any less. I have missed you awfully this past year, and I hate what we all went through before you left for New England. Master's mentioned that you picked up a van and spent a night at their home. Isn't it nice? I love the old woodwork, and the way they've arranged everything. And having Dairy Queen across the street? Master's said that you plan to travel, so did Oldest Nephew. I can imagine you doing that. I hope that I can hear of your adventures.
Dad and I have friends in New England. We went to visit them last fall. That's very close to where you live. It was beautiful. We could imagine you living in the mountains and loving that area. Nana shared your letter with me. I was so happy to hear that you were hiking and fishing. I always thought of you as happy. My heart is broken for you O.S., that you were not...that D.I.L.ly was not.
I am not angry. I never was. Breaking our relationship is the hardest, most hurtful thing I have ever done. I did it because I could see the hurt and anger in your eyes. I wouldn't come between you and your wife, I wouldn't make you feel like you had to choose. I never expected you to choose any other course of action than taking care of D.I.L.ly, and trying your best to make her happy and meet her needs. That's really what I had always hoped to do as a mother-in-law. I love D.I.L.ly. It just became impossible to live with her.
My biggest hope is that you will show up at our door. Maybe on your way to Your End Destination? Maybe you are already in Your End Destination!! My second greatest hope would be to hear your voice on the phone. I can't tell you how exciting it was to hear your voice mail message! It was the same! I would equally love to see an email message from you!
I don't know how you are feeling toward me now. When I cut off contact in our last counseling session with you and D.I.L.ly, I accepted that responsibility. I still do. You have every right to see and talk to anyone in the family that you want to. I have not told Nana anything that I learned from Master's or Oldest Nephew. It is my understanding that Nana's "problem" is with D.I.L.ly - never with you. Daughter and Dude know what Oldest Nephew knows, he's talked with them. I have not talked with PhD about any of this, but he and Master's will be here next weekend, and I will most likely let him know that I've emailed you. If you feel more comfortable talking with or emailing Dad, please don't hesitate to do that! He misses you. Very much.
(Paragraph deleted. Contained personal information on relative for Older Son. Unrelated to our estrangement and possible reconciliation.)
I love you, O.S.
Mom
After speaking with Daughter and especially Tall One, and some other close confidants, I decided to stop operating under D.I.L.ly's bizarre, ever changing expectations. I decided to once again treat my son honestly as a rational adult. I feel good about the email, the wording and the timing. When Tall One gets home from his golf game and charity event, I'll have him read it, and call O.S. to let him know we sent it.
Following is the message:
Dear O.S.,
Dad and I have been wanting to send you an email since talking to Oldest Nephew. We left one voice message on your phone, but, we want to communicate a little more about how we feel. We want you to have all the time you need to decide when (and if) to contact us.
I was sad to hear that D.I.L.ly left. Dad and I are so proud of the way you supported her. We wouldn't have expected any less. I have missed you awfully this past year, and I hate what we all went through before you left for New England. Master's mentioned that you picked up a van and spent a night at their home. Isn't it nice? I love the old woodwork, and the way they've arranged everything. And having Dairy Queen across the street? Master's said that you plan to travel, so did Oldest Nephew. I can imagine you doing that. I hope that I can hear of your adventures.
Dad and I have friends in New England. We went to visit them last fall. That's very close to where you live. It was beautiful. We could imagine you living in the mountains and loving that area. Nana shared your letter with me. I was so happy to hear that you were hiking and fishing. I always thought of you as happy. My heart is broken for you O.S., that you were not...that D.I.L.ly was not.
I am not angry. I never was. Breaking our relationship is the hardest, most hurtful thing I have ever done. I did it because I could see the hurt and anger in your eyes. I wouldn't come between you and your wife, I wouldn't make you feel like you had to choose. I never expected you to choose any other course of action than taking care of D.I.L.ly, and trying your best to make her happy and meet her needs. That's really what I had always hoped to do as a mother-in-law. I love D.I.L.ly. It just became impossible to live with her.
My biggest hope is that you will show up at our door. Maybe on your way to Your End Destination? Maybe you are already in Your End Destination!! My second greatest hope would be to hear your voice on the phone. I can't tell you how exciting it was to hear your voice mail message! It was the same! I would equally love to see an email message from you!
I don't know how you are feeling toward me now. When I cut off contact in our last counseling session with you and D.I.L.ly, I accepted that responsibility. I still do. You have every right to see and talk to anyone in the family that you want to. I have not told Nana anything that I learned from Master's or Oldest Nephew. It is my understanding that Nana's "problem" is with D.I.L.ly - never with you. Daughter and Dude know what Oldest Nephew knows, he's talked with them. I have not talked with PhD about any of this, but he and Master's will be here next weekend, and I will most likely let him know that I've emailed you. If you feel more comfortable talking with or emailing Dad, please don't hesitate to do that! He misses you. Very much.
(Paragraph deleted. Contained personal information on relative for Older Son. Unrelated to our estrangement and possible reconciliation.)
I love you, O.S.
Mom
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Addendum
I'm feeling much better today. More "centered", whatever that means! I've realized that no matter what the future holds for my relationship with our older son, he is free. My hope is that he uses this time to sort out all the vileness of the last couple of years. I want him to know it's not his fault.
I believe there is a fundamental, unchangeable, lack in D.I.L.ly's personality. I don't believe she can get "well". I don't think she will ever completely accept that there is something grossly "wrong".
So, I can wait....but not too long!
I believe there is a fundamental, unchangeable, lack in D.I.L.ly's personality. I don't believe she can get "well". I don't think she will ever completely accept that there is something grossly "wrong".
So, I can wait....but not too long!
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Hope Springs Eternal! (But at What Cost?)
It's been awhile since I've posted. I've been very distracted by 1.) the birth of Baby Girl, 2.) a week long trip to Peru, 3.) starting back to work, albeit 10-15 hours a week, but still, and 4.) SuperPokePets.
More on ALL of those later...
Monday, early evening, Daughter called, "Mom, it's nothing bad, but I have to talk to you and Dad right away." Well, let me tell you, THAT was the longest 3 minute, one mile drive in history! When we got to Daughter's house, she told us that our Oldest Nephew had been calling her repeatedly and leaving messages, and that they finally got to talk right before she called Tall One and me. O.N. doesn't get on his MySpace account very often, but apparently, about a week ago he did. He is "friends" with D.l.L.ly. He clicked onto her page and noticed that 1.) there were no pictures of O.S., 2.) there were pictures of D.I.L.ly and her "host family", and 3.) she listed her status as "single". Curious and curiouser.
O.N. contacted Daughter for O.S.'s cell phone number, and over the weekend called. D.I.L.ly left O.S. about a month and a half ago, things have been awful for a year. D.I.L.ly told O.S. that she has no feelings for him and doesn't know why they ever got married. I think she may have said she never loved him...but I may be projecting through hearing of this, what, third hand? D.I.L.ly is living with a "host family" (whatever that is) in New England. O.S. is still living with the friend he and D.I.L.ly moved in with originally. O.S. has the dog.
O.S. also told his cousin that he wasn't sure he could ever make things right with his family. Or something eluding to that sentiment. O.N. told him that family always sticks by you, and O.N. would know. He's had his fair share of serious life altering problems...but, we all love him, and we're supporting him the best we know how.
Tied into all of this "information" is the phone call I had with Master's, our younger son's wife, a little over a week ago. She told me that she hasn't talked to D.I.L.ly in a long time, but that she and PhD, our younger son, had a phone call from O.S. a few weeks ago. He was in Ohio, picking up a van that he had purchased, and wanted to stay over at their home on his way to driving back to New England. Master's told me that he was planning on traveling (in the van), and this information was confirmed by O.N.'s phone conversation with O.S. Master's gave no indication that she knew of the separation, or that D.I.L.ly and O.S. were having problems.
So, that's the background information. Now for the emotional turmoil.
1.) (I'm all about numbers, and points of order in this post, aren't I?) I can't believe that our son has to go through this alone. The entire time that D.I.L.ly and O.S. were "officially" an "item" they were virtually inseparable. O.S. was relentlessly and systematically cut off from his friends and family. There were times when we remarked about their obvious lack of a need for anyone, or anything outside of their relationship...but, we were really ok with that, it was just different.
2.) I can't believe that O.S. sold his home, quit a job that he loved, put his possessions into storage and moved hundreds of miles away, to be "abandoned" in less than a year.
3.) My initial reaction was, "Get in the car we'll talk on the road!". I want to see my son.
4.) I'm glad that I wasn't able to act on my first impulse. Through talking with my husband and daughter and her husband, and calling my nephew, I realize that a month and a half of separation isn't that long...and there may be lots of reasons to give O.S. some time. Would it be easier for him to begin renewed contact with a letter or email? Would he actually receive either of those? There was a time when we weren't at all sure that O.S. saw emails, or received phone messages. Could D.I.L.ly still have access to those avenues of communication?
5.) I have no idea what O.S. believes about our estrangement, about the awful stories and our hellacious motives that D.I.L.ly clung to so tenaciously in spite of our best efforts to explain. I have no idea how deeply entrenched the one-sided distortions and outright lies have become, what valid and true memories have been displaced.
6.) Maybe O.S. is somewhat relieved. Although, I would imagine, lost and bewildered.
7.) D.I.L.ly may come back some day.
So, for now we've adopted a "wait and see" attitude. I can't tell you how many times a day I take out my cell phone and just look at it. I have refrained, thus far, from actually scrolling for O.S.'s number. Checking my email has taken on a new urgency. Every time our shop phone rings, I pray.
I don't feel well. Sometimes I can hardly breath. Now, that the opportunity presents itself, I WANT MY SON BACK. I want to talk to him on the phone, go and see where he's been living, take walks with the dog, eat his home made bread, find out about his job, discuss his travel plans, find out if he has cable, or Internet, I want a HUG.
I really can't discuss this with any other family members than the ones already involved. The last times I saw O.S. he was extremely angry with me for "turning the family against" D.I.L.ly (her words, not his). He couldn't understand why I had to talk about things to my mother. Things that D.I.L.ly had talked to her about FIRST. I was doing damage control on a situation I didn't want and hadn't precipitated.
Tall One and Dude are ecstatic! Almost giddy. But, both are realistic. This could take years and D.I.L.ly could come back, and then we would have to distance ourselves again. Daughter is supportive. It hasn't even been 48 hours, and I feel like it's been months.
My hope is that O.S. will reach out on Mother's Day. Or on Tall One's birthday, the next day. Either of those gestures would be huge. Holiday's and birthday's were never a big deal with immediate family. We acknowledge them with a card or gift and perhaps dinner. It's never been a measure of our love for one another, at least in Tall One's or my mind. And, the gesture doesn't have to be to us. If O.S. would call Nana. Or, if I would hear something from PhD. Anything that would indicate that O.S.'s separation was "public". Our nephew told us that O.S. would be making some phone calls this week.
I'm trying to stay cerebral about all of this. When I begin to feel, I find myself completely crushed. Burdened enough to never be able to stand under the weight. I can't even begin to imagine what would happen if I would hear O.S.'s voice on the other end of the phone...but that's what I want more than anything.
More on ALL of those later...
Monday, early evening, Daughter called, "Mom, it's nothing bad, but I have to talk to you and Dad right away." Well, let me tell you, THAT was the longest 3 minute, one mile drive in history! When we got to Daughter's house, she told us that our Oldest Nephew had been calling her repeatedly and leaving messages, and that they finally got to talk right before she called Tall One and me. O.N. doesn't get on his MySpace account very often, but apparently, about a week ago he did. He is "friends" with D.l.L.ly. He clicked onto her page and noticed that 1.) there were no pictures of O.S., 2.) there were pictures of D.I.L.ly and her "host family", and 3.) she listed her status as "single". Curious and curiouser.
O.N. contacted Daughter for O.S.'s cell phone number, and over the weekend called. D.I.L.ly left O.S. about a month and a half ago, things have been awful for a year. D.I.L.ly told O.S. that she has no feelings for him and doesn't know why they ever got married. I think she may have said she never loved him...but I may be projecting through hearing of this, what, third hand? D.I.L.ly is living with a "host family" (whatever that is) in New England. O.S. is still living with the friend he and D.I.L.ly moved in with originally. O.S. has the dog.
O.S. also told his cousin that he wasn't sure he could ever make things right with his family. Or something eluding to that sentiment. O.N. told him that family always sticks by you, and O.N. would know. He's had his fair share of serious life altering problems...but, we all love him, and we're supporting him the best we know how.
Tied into all of this "information" is the phone call I had with Master's, our younger son's wife, a little over a week ago. She told me that she hasn't talked to D.I.L.ly in a long time, but that she and PhD, our younger son, had a phone call from O.S. a few weeks ago. He was in Ohio, picking up a van that he had purchased, and wanted to stay over at their home on his way to driving back to New England. Master's told me that he was planning on traveling (in the van), and this information was confirmed by O.N.'s phone conversation with O.S. Master's gave no indication that she knew of the separation, or that D.I.L.ly and O.S. were having problems.
So, that's the background information. Now for the emotional turmoil.
1.) (I'm all about numbers, and points of order in this post, aren't I?) I can't believe that our son has to go through this alone. The entire time that D.I.L.ly and O.S. were "officially" an "item" they were virtually inseparable. O.S. was relentlessly and systematically cut off from his friends and family. There were times when we remarked about their obvious lack of a need for anyone, or anything outside of their relationship...but, we were really ok with that, it was just different.
2.) I can't believe that O.S. sold his home, quit a job that he loved, put his possessions into storage and moved hundreds of miles away, to be "abandoned" in less than a year.
3.) My initial reaction was, "Get in the car we'll talk on the road!". I want to see my son.
4.) I'm glad that I wasn't able to act on my first impulse. Through talking with my husband and daughter and her husband, and calling my nephew, I realize that a month and a half of separation isn't that long...and there may be lots of reasons to give O.S. some time. Would it be easier for him to begin renewed contact with a letter or email? Would he actually receive either of those? There was a time when we weren't at all sure that O.S. saw emails, or received phone messages. Could D.I.L.ly still have access to those avenues of communication?
5.) I have no idea what O.S. believes about our estrangement, about the awful stories and our hellacious motives that D.I.L.ly clung to so tenaciously in spite of our best efforts to explain. I have no idea how deeply entrenched the one-sided distortions and outright lies have become, what valid and true memories have been displaced.
6.) Maybe O.S. is somewhat relieved. Although, I would imagine, lost and bewildered.
7.) D.I.L.ly may come back some day.
So, for now we've adopted a "wait and see" attitude. I can't tell you how many times a day I take out my cell phone and just look at it. I have refrained, thus far, from actually scrolling for O.S.'s number. Checking my email has taken on a new urgency. Every time our shop phone rings, I pray.
I don't feel well. Sometimes I can hardly breath. Now, that the opportunity presents itself, I WANT MY SON BACK. I want to talk to him on the phone, go and see where he's been living, take walks with the dog, eat his home made bread, find out about his job, discuss his travel plans, find out if he has cable, or Internet, I want a HUG.
I really can't discuss this with any other family members than the ones already involved. The last times I saw O.S. he was extremely angry with me for "turning the family against" D.I.L.ly (her words, not his). He couldn't understand why I had to talk about things to my mother. Things that D.I.L.ly had talked to her about FIRST. I was doing damage control on a situation I didn't want and hadn't precipitated.
Tall One and Dude are ecstatic! Almost giddy. But, both are realistic. This could take years and D.I.L.ly could come back, and then we would have to distance ourselves again. Daughter is supportive. It hasn't even been 48 hours, and I feel like it's been months.
My hope is that O.S. will reach out on Mother's Day. Or on Tall One's birthday, the next day. Either of those gestures would be huge. Holiday's and birthday's were never a big deal with immediate family. We acknowledge them with a card or gift and perhaps dinner. It's never been a measure of our love for one another, at least in Tall One's or my mind. And, the gesture doesn't have to be to us. If O.S. would call Nana. Or, if I would hear something from PhD. Anything that would indicate that O.S.'s separation was "public". Our nephew told us that O.S. would be making some phone calls this week.
I'm trying to stay cerebral about all of this. When I begin to feel, I find myself completely crushed. Burdened enough to never be able to stand under the weight. I can't even begin to imagine what would happen if I would hear O.S.'s voice on the other end of the phone...but that's what I want more than anything.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
What's the Worst That Could Happen?
I'm feeling a bit distracted, well, OK, a lot distracted. Daughter gave us a bit of a scare the other weekend. She's dangerously near the end of her pregnancy. Like Bigger One, and Baby, this Little Girl has dropped and Daughter is in a lot of pain with her "split hips" and general pregnancy related discomfort. Two weekends ago, Daughter spent Sunday on our sofa. She didn't look well. She felt ill, had steady contractions, and we weren't sure if she was starting labor - and, boy if she would have been, it didn't look like it was going to be easy. Fortunately she had a doctor's appointment on Monday. Unfortunately, they couldn't tell her anything. Doc scheduled an ultrasound for Tuesday because Daughter had lost weight and her abdomen wasn't measuring as large as two weeks before. Daughter was still feeling awful, really awful, so Tall One and I kept the boys overnight. This was a blessed relief. They kept me occupied. I was more worried and scared than I wanted to admit. I couldn't even verbalize my concern or helplessness - just deny.
Tuesday morning, Daughter had the ultrasound, all is well with Baby Girl. She was about six pounds. Daughter rested. Dude picked everyone up from my house after work, and the house was too quiet, and I missed the boys.
Wednesday morning Daughter called, she had woke in the night with an ear ache, she was going to the doctor. It turned out she had an ear infection, was put on an antibiotic, and could now take Tylenol since she wasn't in labor. She felt much better, rapidly. I felt much better at a slower pace.
Pins and needles, needles and pins, isn't that an old pop song? I know it's an old cliche. But, that's me. For the last two weeks, I'm hyper in that nonproductive way of nervous anxiety. Fortunately, I worked for Wheeler three mornings this week. That tired me out a bit. And, I went to kickboxing Wednesday evening. That helped, too. But, I'm tremendously unfocused. Raw. Everything seems suspended. I can't quite breathe.
Tall One and I are going to Peru at the end of the month. I haven't even thought about it. I can't. ONE THING AT A TIME. Actually, my one thing at a time involves obsessive escapism. I'm online too much, distracting myself with books and TV shows. Anything to keep from thinking. When I do think, my mind is all over the place. There's an unfocused panic behind my eyes.
But, we don't have much longer to wait. My daughter is incredibly strong. My grandchildren are the delight of my life. On the other hand, in the back of my mind, where I will not go, can not stay, is the black knowledge that I couldn't bear it if Daughter died.
There, I've said it. Will that make it real, or will it now go far, far away where I never have to feel it again?
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