In rememberance of all those who have given the ultimate sacrifice…9/11/2001

To live in hearts we leave behind….. Is not to die.

~Thomas Campbell, “Hallowed Ground”

The Grudge

  “To carry a grudge is like being stung to death by one bee.”

~~~William H. Walton
http://www.motivational-inspirational-corner.com/powerup2.html?id=674&startrow=2

Some of us carry around a pretty big chip on our shoulders. For one reason or perhaps any of a number of reasons we feel like we’ve been wronged or shortchanged in life. Instead of getting over the negative feelings we harbor and getting on with our lives, we hold a grudge; a great big nasty grudge. And this bitterness weighs heavily on everything we say, think and do.

 

When we hold a grudge, virtually everything we do is burdened with this huge, heavy, troublesome chip. Instead of feeling upbeat and optimistic, we tend to feel angry and upset. Rather than look for the good that surrounds us daily, we focus on the wrongs we have suffered. With our outlook and attitude laced with rancor and resentment, is it any wonder there’s not a hint of contentment and peace to be found?

 

“I’ve had a few arguments with people, but I never carry a grudge. You know why? While you’re carrying a grudge, they’re out dancing.”

 ~~~Buddy Hackett

 

Whenever we feel beaten, battered and badly treated, it’s easy to get bitter, to get down on life. Maybe we have been cheated, maybe even mistreated by others; sometimes by people we hardly know, sometimes by those we hold close. How we handle these moments, whether we control our emotions or allow them to control us, determine where we go and what we ultimately accomplish. We can remain bitter and allow our negative feelings to swirl all around us – or we can choose to get over them and get on down the road.

 

Staying mad and upset after you have been wronged never accomplishes anything but keep you mad and upset. There is just too much to love about life, too much to embrace about living to remain angry or distressed for very long. Besides, the only person who gets hurt when you hold a grudge is you. That’s right; you’re the one you’re hurting, the one you’re punishing when you hold these feelings of ill-will towards others.

 

 

“Resentment or grudges do no harm to the person against whom you hold these feelings but every day and every night of your life, they are eating at you.”

~~~Norman Vincent Peale

 We’ve all had bad things happen in our lives. Not some of us, but every single one of us have experienced some tough times. All of us have rode out some rough situations. We have encountered all sorts of trying moments and difficult circumstances that have tested our tenacity and resolve. And yes, we have been wronged on occasion.

 But come on now, do two wrongs ever make a right? Does staying all riled up get you any closer to realizing your dreams or achieving your goals? Does lugging around a chip for who knows how long make your life more pleasant or enjoyable?

 

 

“A chip on the shoulder is too heavy a piece of baggage to carry through life.”

~~~John Hancock

When it comes to holding grudges, please don’t. Holding tight to bad feelings only holds you back. You’ve got to let go of these negative feelings, casting them aside before they eat you alive.

 If you think someone has treated you poorly, shake it off.
If you believe somebody has done you wrong, forget about it.
If you feel someone has slighted or mistreated you, let it go.
If you sense someone has taken advantage of you, don’t let it get you down.

 There is nothing to be gained by holding on to bad feelings about others. Or what you believe others have done to you for that matter. Rather than waste one more minute living and reliving unpleasant moments, why not toss aside each and every grudge you hold and start anew?

 Hey, your life can be as good as you want it to be. However, if you refuse to turn loose of things that bring you down, it won’t be. So get with the program and quit carrying that chip around with you. Get rid of it.

 You will feel a whole lot lighter – and a whole lot better.

The Bottom Line: The heaviest thing in the world is that chip on your shoulder.

I wish I could take credit for these words of wisdom, sadly I cannot. They are attributed to the above link.

I never could understand why people feel the need to harp on the past….carry a grudge for something that has long since past. I guess the person holding the grudge has their reasons…some valid, some not, but what does it serve? I only write and repost this piece because there are people holding a grudge against me as I write. I have done all I can. I cannot apologize any more or try to have yet another discussion about the issue at hand. I used to be simply waiting…now I am just moving on. It hurts. I wish it were different, but I cannot change it anymore than I can go back in time an undo any wrong doing that I may have done.

I just wonder…that when faced with death or illness…what will they say to themselves? Was it worth it to them…all these wasted years? I was very unhappy for a very long time. Now I am so very happy with my life and I want the same for the people who I am at odds with…no matter what happens.

I hope it is all worth it for them. If my being erased from their lives is what they all truly want or need to be happy, then I want that for them.  Otherwise…It was all for nothing.

The Reality of It All….

It finally happened. I saw them both. We were all in the store. It was just a coincidence, happenstance….or are there no coincidences? I followed them around the store while my father longingly looked back as his unsympathetic wife walked faster and faster. It was as if he were trying to stop, but couldn’t. I could tell by the look on his face. It was ….”I’m sorry”….”I love you”…..”I have no choice.” She was cruel but her crocodile tears were starting. They always came….she was a professional. She could have won an Oscar so many times over the past 30 or so years…it was a true hidden talent….but I knew that’s all it was…a talent, acting…not real tears. Maybe this time she was genuinely scared. Scared of my wrath, as the anger was growing on my face. Scared of my letting the truth out, calling her out on her lies and manipulations. But I saw the slight grin surface a few times around each corner. She knew what she was doing and didn’t care. What made me sad…more than anything was that my father was going along with it all. Dodging me, pretending to ignore every time I yelled to him…asking him….”Please, please stop!…I need to talk to you! I have to talk to you!” I started to cry….the kind of cry that is almost inconsolable. Sobbing, my chest heaving with every breath and step I took.

It was as if I were in slow motion. I was trying to catch up so desperately, but there were people everywhere. The store was so busy and flooded with potential consumers that just seemed determined to block my every move. I finally caught up to them. I didn’t say a word at first. I just stared at my father for a minute that seemed like a lifetime. The type of stare that buckles your knees and says everything without uttering a word. I was puzzled, dumbfounded, hurt, shocked, visibly upset…but only slightly angry. My chest hurt so badly. I was squeezing as if I were in a vice. It seemed impossible to speak, but I finally could.

“Why are you doing this.”, I sobbed to him. “I just don’t understand. Just what am I supposed to say to Jakob”. I started to yell. “He is only eight years old…a little boy…he doesn’t know what he did “wrong”.” I was now spewing at him.

He had no defense. He knew he was wrong. He had hardly spoke to me in the last year and a half and had called Jake about ten times. His wife, who Jake had called Mom-Mom at one time, had not spoken to him in over two years. No phone calls, letters, holiday or birthday gifts that she picked out. He only received what my father picked out and signed her name to the card.

“Jake has done nothing!”, I screamed. “He is so innocent and good-hearted. He is kind and wants to know why “Mom-Mom” doesn’t care about him any more. He wants to know why everyone he has known for the past seven years has disappeared out of his life. He wants to know what he did “wrong.” I finally screamed at both of them.

She was “crying”…. A meek, simple sob that would absolutely be figured out by the majority of strangers and most family members. I knew it so well. My father was always reeled in., but he was different this time. He seemed to know that she was the reason, but he had no choice. He kept stumbling over every word. He couldn’t complete a sentence. He was crying now too. I have seen my father cry a few times, but not like this. He was truly sorry, empathic….with a look on his face that said everything. He was helpless. He was a pussy.

“We can’t trust you. We never could. You have always caused problems for your father and I will not see him hurt any longer. I am done with all of your bullshit for all of these years.”, she spit at me. Her eyes were dark with nothing behind them. I had heard this speech so many times before. It was ridiculous. I could not have possible been that bad for thirty years.

“What does that have to do with my son!” I screamed into her face. I was up close to her, intimidating and angry. I always knew deep down she was scared of me. Scared that eventually my father would finally listen to me. That he would would hear how she treated my sisters and I over the years. I was never afraid of her. I never backed down from a fight with her. I called her out on every evil, manipulative move she made. She had said to me so many times over the years….”I will deny everything I say to you, so don’t bother saying anything to anyone because they will never believe you.” She was right….they never did.

I was pleading with my dad…..”Daddy, please…why are you doing this to Jake?….I don’t want you to hate me, but it doesn’t matter if it means you’ll stop what you are doing to him. Jake is so sad some days. I don’t know what to say. I am sick of lying….telling him that you and her are so busy…that you work so much, even though you are supposed to be retired. I am tired of having my son think your wife is a good person when she absolutely is not!”

“I don’t understand.” I said as more and more tears were streamed down my face. All three of us were unaware of anyone else in the store. The people all seemed to go about their business in slow motion. They were all a blurry haze of everyday life passing me by. My father didn’t seem to care either. Normally he would avoid any public display of this sort. His wife kept looking around…as if anyone really could give a shit. They had lives to lead, bills to pay, grocery lists to fill. She was always putting up a front. No, no…nothing is wrong in my life…I have the perfect life…a huge home, a rich husband…and I was able to turn him against his three daughters…it was so easy.

What kind of man lets that happen? What kind of woman lets a man choose her over his children?….But we are talking about her. She hates kids. She hated us as kids. Now as adults, she saw no reason to find any possible imperfection or nuisance to make my father’s life so miserable that he was willing to ignore his daughters. At that very moment… I didn’t care what he was doing to me. I was protecting my son. I was standing up for my child who loved unconditionally and didn’t understand what he could have done that was so awful that his own grandfather hardly spoke to him…..that his so-called Mom-Mom hadn’t talked to him in over two years and hadn’t step foot into our home in over three years in Pennsylvania before we moved to Florida.

My father just kept sputtering…trying to catch the right words. There was an obvious look of  “I am so sorry for all I have put you through over these years. I wish I could change it all. I wish I had a relationship with you”. It was everything I ever wanted to hear, but it wasn’t why I was so angry….Jake…why would he torture a poor little boy that he used to take almost very weekend to fly in one of his planes. Jake loved it so much. He would tell everyone he could…”My Pap-Pap is a pilot. He has his own planes and lets me fly them all the time. I know how to fly a plane.” He was so proud…so sincere….it broke my heart.

It ended almost as quickly as it started. We were being pulled apart by her. My arm was out stretched….with so much pain on my face. He had the same look of pain. He kept asking me, “Do you need anything? Does Jake need anything? I’ll give you whatever you need! If you need any help. please let me know!”

I yelled… “No. …I don’t need or want that kind of help! I don’t need your money….I need for you to be a grandfather to my son! Don’t do to him what you did to me! He doesn’t deserve it! He did nothing wrong!”. Tears were flowing so much that I could see any longer. She was pulling him father away. I was screaming at him.

“Call Jakob!..Call your grandson! He doesn’t understand! He just a little boy you bastard!” It was my final good-bye as she whisked him far out of my reach. I was sobbing so heavily. I didn’t answer the people…strangers asking me if I were all right. My mind was boggled and nothing was resolved….as always.  I had a glimmer of hope that everything was going to go back like it used to be… but  it was gone as quickly as it came.

The sobs kept coming. I couldn’t control it…I was inconsolable. I hurt so badly for my child…..Jake loved him and her so very much…..I had never felt such pain and controllable grief…it was a loss greater than any death I had ever experienced….because it was a chosen loss…. by my father.

I woke up grasping my chest, tears streaming down my already soaked face. I was crying during the whole dream. I still could not control it. Jake was sleeping next to me. I hugged him so hard, but not enough to wake him. I love him so much…..everyone always tells people that you will never know such a love until you have children….I never believed it until I had Jake. I would die and kill for him. Everything was so fresh and real. I was there. My dad was there. She was there. It really happened….it couldn’t end like this? Why was it all a dream!!! Why was my son going to still question himself and what he did wrong to have this all happen to him.  I was still crying, but starting to become angry.

I got up and went to the bathroom. I washed my face off and brushed my teeth. The clock said 1:46 AM. I cried the whole time.

It’s 2:58 AM now. I am done with the dream, but I am still sobbing uncontrollably. I had to wipe my eyes so many times just to see the screen. My chest doesn’t hurt any longer. I am starting to calm down. Jakob had a sleep over with his cousin, Skylar. She keeps waking up and moving around, but I think she is still sleeping. The computer is right next to where she is sleeping. I am going to check on her.

I just can’t believe it is over. It was so real. It still seems within my grasp….like maybe when I fall back asleep I could pick up where I left off…but that never happens in my dreams no matter how hard I try.

I guess no matter how much I say that I am OK, I am still not over all the hurt from my father. Maybe I will call a therapist in the morning.

Potentially Explosive

I write everyday. On line, in journals, on napkins…anywhere I can. It has always come so easily, naturally…effortlessly. I have never been someone who was at a loss for words. I have always been the one with the quick comeback, funny joke….cute little quip. Right now…..I’ve got nothing.

I have so much to write about. My mind is full of so many things that need to get out that I am just overloaded. It’s not writer’s block…it’s  anti-writer’s block. I don’t know where to start. I don’t even want to start most days. It’s like I know my mind is going faster than my fingers can type or write. I know it will be a nightmare to try writing, so I don’t even start. My head literally hurts. I know it can be potentially explosive.

But, I have been sick for a couple of days, so I have had time to think, sleep, puke and relax.

I have written about my family in past blogs….about their choices and mine…how I now know where I stand (or fall for that matter).  After two weeks of unanswered phone calls, I finally got in touch with my grandmother on her cell phone at “the home”. She sounded so defeated, broken….just not the woman I knew before. I know she is going to 89, but ones life circumstances changes a person…and I don’t believe that she is happy…no matter what I am told.

Anyway, she said my father was having some tests for his heart….that he “wasn’t feeling well again”….her words. Last year he had the same issues and was tested for heart problems. He claimed to be fine, but I don’t think he would really tell me if he were not. So, I wrote him an email asking if he was OK. I can’t call him, as he is only allowed to speak freely when alone…without the presence of his wife. I am waiting to hear back from him.

This is what bothers me. No matter how my family feels about me, why am I not privy to any information on anyone’s health or well being? I sometimes think that some one will be dead and buried before I am informed, just because of the grudges that are being held. It has been over 18 months and no one has budged. I can’t imagine how this is still happening, as it took my mother’s death to bring my family back together at one point almost nine years ago. I can say all day long that I have to move on, let it go….they have seemingly got on with their lives, what is holding me back?

It hurts. It is a completely devestating feeling to have so many individuals in your life…and your child’s life….for almost a decade and then…..gone. It is like a death….there is mourning, anger, regret….all of the same feelings as a death. So, I guess I am to assume that when any one of the members of my family are to pass during this silent treatment, that I have no more emotion to feel?

Have I done it all already?

Everyone’s family is dysfunctional in one way or another. No one has the perfect set up. But when dysfunction turns into total alienation it is a completely different feeling.

I sent an email to the most important members of my family last Friday. I told them I loved and missed them.  I said I wanted to say it while I still could…while there was still time…before it was too late. I said I didn’t expect anything…I just wanted them to know.

I received no response from two of them, one sent an Obama joke and the other a TMZ video.

This brings dysfunction to a whole new level.

The phrase “working mother” is redundant. ~Jane Sellman

My favorite Mother’s Day Quotes:

Happy Mother’s Day To All…..

I miss thee, my Mother!  Thy image is still
The deepest impressed on my heart.~Eliza Cook

If the whole world were put into one scale, and my mother in the other, the whole world would kick the beam.  ~Lord Langdale (Henry Bickersteth)

All women become like their mothers.  That is their tragedy.  No man does.  That’s his.  ~Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, 1895

Any mother could perform the jobs of several air traffic controllers with ease.  ~Lisa Alther

A father may turn his back on his child, brothers and sisters may become inveterate enemies, husbands may desert their wives, wives their husbands.  But a mother’s love endures through all.  ~Washington Irving

It’s Not A Tumor…..

Umm, yea, it is.

My nephew is 24 and was just diagnosed with a brain tumor. He is having surgery next Wednesday. I don’t know all the details or possible outcomes…etc….., but I do know this:

He is twenty-four years old. I don’t really remember much of my 20′s, but when you’re 24, married with 3 kids and one on the way…a brain tumor is very inconvenient. I’m not making light of his situation…he is joking about it too. What else is he supposed to do? Cry? Scream? Get angry? None of that will change his condition and for twenty-four years old with a brain tumor, he is really calm. This is where I just do not understand why things like this happen to young people. This is where God comes into the equation.

I have read the book, Embraced by the Light, by Bettie J. Eadie. http://www.embracedbythelight.com/index.html

On her About Me page it says this:

When I was 31, I died in a hospital after undergoing surgery. What happened next has been called by some, “the most profound near-death experience ever.” Well, it was certainly most profound for me, anyway. I journeyed to a beautiful world beyond this life. I met Jesus there. He gave me a message to give to others when I returned. In my book, Embraced By The Light, I share that message. I describe the wonderful places I visited and the loving people that welcomed me.

I remember that her whole experience of a near death experience was a few minutes, maybe less, but she was able to describe, in such rich detail, all of the people she met in her life that had passed and all of the questions she had asked and had answered. Whether you believe in God, Jesus or whatever higher power, the answers she was given by her God were truly amazing.

She asked this: If God was so giving, caring and loving, why did he let things like childhood molestation, starvation, rape, murder, crib death, etc….why did “He” allow this all to happen?

The answer was this: We are all given the opportunity before we are born to choose our own destiny. We do not remember this, but what we choose is significant in g=how it teaches other people about life. Essentially, we are helping others even before we know we are. So, she wonders in the book, why would anyone choose to be molested or murdered or a casualty of a tornado? The answer was to teach other people about how we should treat each other….to better others…to make people stronger than they were. I guess if I choose to have a heart condition that was supposed to kill me before I was 6 months old….it did make my mother a stronger person. I managed to stay alive until 10 years old to have open heart surgery and was fine until the more recent heart condition of Congestive Heart Failure and the requirement of a pacemaker. This all made my mother the strongest person I have ever known. This has also made me just like her. My mother may have been certifiably insane her entire life, but she was intelligent, thoughtful and would give you the shirt off her back knowing it was her last shirt. She took shit from no one and went to any lengths to get what she was entitled to. My sisters and I always joked that she was a letter-writing-mother-fucker. Now I am too.

So, I am wondering what this brain tumor is supposed to teach my nephew, his wife, their children, all of our other relatives? If he choose this before he even knew it, why did he choose this? If the outcome is good…what will it do? Bring the family closer? Help other family members appreciate life more? And what if the outcome is bad? Will it teach all of us that life is precious and not to waste it? Not to take advantage of the opportunities that we have? To be more caring and thoughful of others?

Whatever the answer is I am praying for the best….he is young with a family and deserves it….even if he may have choosen this as his path.

http://www.embracedbythelight.com/

I will be unavailable the weekend….no post or quotes…sorry…..

Interesting Biblical Facts….

 

I’m not saying that the word of Rob Thomas is gospel, but look at the valid points……

ThisIsRobThomasLev.19:19 says for planting two different crops in the same field, you should be stoned to death.2 minutes ago from web

ThisIsRobThomasLev.21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. sorry four eyes.4 minutes ago from web

    

ThisIsRobThomasExodus 35:2 says i should be put to death for working on the sabbath4 minutes ago from web

    

ThisIsRobThomasI am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanness – Lev.15:19-245 minutes ago from web

    

ThisIsRobThomasExodus 21:7 says i can sell my daughter into slavery.5 minutes ago from web

    

ThisIsRobThomasother fun things you learn if you take the bible literally: Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves6 minutes ago from web

    

ThisIsRobThomasif marriage is a religious bond, why can atheists be married? even SATANISTS can be married.7 minutes ago from web

    

The Beginning of The End…Part 2:

Has anyone every seen the movie “Blast from the Past”? Brendan Fraser and Alicia Silverstone?…..it’s a cute movie about a 30 year old guy that lives in a bomb shelter since birth and eventually comes up for supplies for his family. Long story short…he falls in love with the girl and she meets the parents. The guy (“Adam”, Brendon Frasier) had this line in the movie that I always remembered. It was something like this…”The parents take care of the children, then in turn, the children take care of the parents…that’s just how it’s done”. Something to that effect….but it’s true. That IS how it should be. Anyone who was raised properly with love and everything they ever needed or wanted should, in turn, take care of the people who may have given up so much to do that for them. The sacrifices that parents make are not measurable. Yes, we choose to become parents, but the act of giving up so much so that another human being you are responsible for can eventually live out their dreams is nothing short of miraculous.

That is what my grandmother and grandfather did for my father and uncle. They would have never become a pilot and lawyer without the help of their parents, my grandparents. When my parents divorced and we lived with my father, my grandmother stepped right in. He would never be where he is today without the sacrifices she made for my sisters and I. Who wants to become a parent again at the age of sixty? My grandfather was long gone…since 1979, the year my youngest sister was born and Gram gave up whatever she may have had planned in the future in order to take care of us.

In my last blog concerning this touchy subject, I stated that my father and uncle said Gram would never, ever go in a “home”. They did lie. My sister and I both offered to help take care of Gram after she fell. After all, she did raise us, I promised her I would always be there to take care of her and we wanted to. All the reassurances that she is well taken care of and how no one would be able to care for her like she is being cared for now and how my father always picks her up every weekend and they have dinner at his house with her…..that she is doing great….likes it at “the home”….I hear it every time (and it’s not that often I speak to my father any more) he calls or I call him. I have never spoke to my uncle about it. Quite frankly, he is not very personable and probably doesn’t want to talk to me either. My father can talk all he wants about how better off Gram is at her new “home”. The bottom line is this:

He isn’t trying to convince me, my sisters, my grandmother, his friends….no one….he is trying to convince himself.  He, my uncle and their wives were not willing to give up their lifestyles to accommodate the woman who was responsible for those lavish lifestyles. She molded them into the successes they are today and this is how they repay her. I don’t care if my father never speaks to me for the rest of my life….I will still take care of him if he needs to be later in his life. I would never do that to someone who had sacrificed so much for me.

Just like no one, except Gram, can forgive me for the credit card fiasco….I will never forgive my father and uncle for what they have done to their own mother. It’s disgraceful.

Sometimes we have to give up our dreams to do what is right.

And Karma’s a bitch….

TO BE CONTINUED…..

The Beginning of the End…..

 

Preface: I thought long and hard on whether or not to start writing about this experience in my life. It has been a painful, humiliating and humbling journey. I had a conversation last night with someone. It solidified what I have been thinking all along.

I have nothing left to lose.

 

I have never been good with money. I have never been able to balance a check book. I have bounced countless checks and have received an exorbitant amount of fees throughout my lifetime. I have ruined my credit twice in my life. I am incapable of handling credit cards. I have been under the delusion that I could always afford anything I wanted. I was always wrong. I have been the true cliche of “champagne taste on a beer pocketbook”. I have been doing this since I was 18 years old. It has taken me close to 20 years to realize that I have a serious spending problem….and only now I have been learning how to control it.

I learned the hard way. I learned in the worst possible way imaginable. I lost my family.

I am married with 2 boys. We lived in Pennsylvania from 2001-2008, right next door to my grandmother. My father’s mother raised my 2 sisters and myself while he had custody after the divorce. He was just starting his career with Continental Airlines and Gram was essentially our “mother”. My husband and I moved to PA at just the right time, as Gram was at the point where she could no longer drive and needed help with things. My husband and I did everything we could from going grocery shopping to taking her to doctors appointments. My son went over to visit her everyday. We helped her because we wanted to. I remember saying to her when I was in high school that she took care of me as I grew up and that I would always take care of her. I didn’t think much of it at that time, but who would have thought that it would come to pass so many years later.

During these years I was cleaning up our credit. Mine was from way before I met my husband and my husband mainly had lots of medical bills. After a few years we were able to get some small limit credit cards. But I wanted a bigger one. I wanted the freedom and status that came with an American Express or Chase Visa. I wanted to feel important. I know it sounds stupid, but we had so many hard times (that’s for another blog) over the years that I wanted to feel like a normal person. Someone who could go out and buy clothes for the kids or take a vacation without worrying about a budget.

I applied for larger, more prestigous cards, but was declined. Then I decided to do something that I never should have. I asked Gram to get a credit card with me as a co-signer or authorized user. She said yes, of course. I knew she would and I should never have asked, but one turned into two and then three. Gram was the primary and I was an authorized user. I wasn’t accepted as a co-applicant. Everything was fine for over a year or so. I was careful, paid on time and even over the minimum payment. Then it all turned to shit.

My husband and I were adopting a baby through a family member. They needed help with their other 3 kids, so we decided to help take care of them for a few months. We also had custody of our niece, who was 15 at the time. So, with my son, the 3 boys, my niece and then the new baby, we had six kids. I had applied for help from the state because we were taking care of these children, but unbelievably….we didn’t qualify for anything. We were over the income limit. I couldn’t understand how, but we were. So, what’s the first thing that goes…..the credit cards.

I didn’t mean for it to happen I didn’t plan it. I didn’t take care of my grandmother for seven years just to get some credit cards in the end. I fucked up. They were maxed out and I couldn’t pay them. I told Gram that she had to call the companies in order for me to be able to speak to them to try and fix it. She was the primary…they wouldn’t say anything to me without her say so. I had taken the optional protection plan, but because I was already behind (Note To Self: always read the fine print) it was void.  Gram asked if I was taking care of it and I told her I was doing my best. I told her I was sorry….that I never meant for this to happen. I tried and failed.

During all this time, my family wasn’t really even speaking to me because of the decision we made to take in all the kids. You see, all the kids were from my husband’s side of the family. My side doesn’t see family like that. They were not my true family. Not my problem….let them go to foster care….just not my problem to deal with. My friends were more than supportive. I even had strangers telling me what a great thing we were doing when I was out with all the kids. Once I would have a conversation with someone and the inevitable question of “are these all your kids?” came up…I would breifly explain and people were dumbfounded that my husband and I would do such a thing. That we were willing to help all these kids was incredible to people. I didn’t see it as some saint like activity…just helping family.

After a few months, the three boys went back to their parents. Things were quiet around my house, but still, no one from my family was in touch with me. I used to talk to my father every day on the phone. That had stopped a few months back, but he had called me one day and said, “well, I guess you heard about Gram.”  Ummm, no I didn’t hear anything about Gram. Apparently, she had fallen that morning and broke her hip and was lying on the floor for two hours before my upstairs neighbor (my father’s wife’s sister….long story….another blog) went over and found her. No one called me. She had been at the hospital all day. The woman who lived just up one flight of stairs from me didn’t even have the courtesy to call me. She called my father’s wife, as he happened to be in Mexico for God knows what. Neither one of my sisters called me. Not my  aunt and uncle, cousins….no one. My husband and I took care of this woman for over seven years and no one told us. I was sick that day, so I didn’t call her. I always called her every morning, but because I was sick, I didn’t. I will never get over that guilt. But I will also never understand the reasoning why no one called me or my husband.

My father and uncle (my Godfather; my father’s brother) had found out about the credit card situation. Gram had always told me to make sure I paid them because she didn’t want to hear anything from my father or uncle about it, as they took care of her finances. I said before, I fucked up. I had talked to Gram…apologized…said I would do what I could to fix it. I couldn’t.  Not only were my father and uncle mad, but everyone in my family…sisters, brother-in-laws, cousins….everyone. They all wanted an apology for what I did to Gram. I didn’t understand it. Eventually it came out that they all thought that I took out all these credit cards without Gram knowing. That I did it behind her back. No matter what I said, I was screamed at and never could explain anything to anyone. Gram told my father and uncle she only knew about one card. I know why she did that….I know she had already been reamed out for doing it in the first place, but if she were to admit to all of it, they would have treated her like they always have….like a child. Yes, I made a huge mistake and I know I should have never thought to ask her….I couldn’t handle it, but I was convinced I could. I don’t blame her for telling them what she did. I know she did it for legitimate reasons. It didn’t matter how many credit cards there were….I was completely shut out from Gram’s life.

She spent the next few weeks in the hospital and then was transfered to a nursing facility for rehabilitation. This was supposed to be temporary. My father and uncle said they would never, ever put Gram into a home…….

They lied.

TO BE CONTINUED….

Married…..But Looking……..

This was an article that I wrote for a local magazine. It was not published, but the two week experiment was quite eye opening…..

Please click on each image, as it was the only way to incorporate the article. Thanks!

Married....Page 1

Married....Page 2