23 January 2012 4 Comments

Unexpected

Well that was unexpected.
Weeping uncontrollably in the physical therapy room, that is.

Not because I was dealing with my mom,
whose body won’t ever be the same,
whose frenetic pace simply stopped,
whose personality is, different.

but because,
oh hey surprise!
I haven’t properly dealt with the trauma from James’ accident.
I know, huh?
What the hell is that about?

Helen Jane, you shut your face, this isn’t about you.
This is your mom’s stroke.
What’s your problem, making her trauma about you?

Except it is about me.
Up in here, it’s always about me.
As it’s always about you.

Long time readers, remember that accident?
Less time readers, let me catch you up.

Nine years ago,
(after James and I had been married for three months)
James fell from a big height,
breaking much of the left side of his body.

For nearly a year, we navigated a hostile medical world through multiple surgeries, wheelchairs and physical therapy.

It’s become a cute footnote,
an adorable anecdote
about The Trials of the First Year of Marriage.

As I sat with Mom in her physical therapy,
these memories assaulted me,
punching my head from behind.

One after the other,
the memories broke front,
visions of waiting rooms,
loading the wheelchair in the borrowed two-door civic,
giving my new husband a bath,
fearing the loss of this man I hardly knew but loved more than anything,
sleeping next to the couch on the air mattress,
panic in the face of uncontrolled pain.

Even though her therapy wasn’t about me.
Even though I was to be positive,
encouraging and
full of healing energy,
I broke down.

Assaulted by complete helplessness
where someone I love very much is
now unable to control their meatsack of a body.

Really, aren’t these bodies the worst?
(Don’t even get me started on these brains of ours.)

I excused myself,
had a good cry and
promised myself I’d work on some healing of my own this year.

Sooner than later, before more than after,
I have to get on this stuff.
I have to prioritize some things that have fallen away.

From dealing with the fallout from Mom’s stroke to
re-experiencing the emotions of an emotional trauma I thought I was way past,
to newly recognizing myself as
simply a middle-aged mother of two,
rounding the corner of my best years -
It appears I need to do some healing.

In the meantime, I am to be gentle with myself.
you are to be gentle with yourself.

Because we’re just trudging through this human experience the only way know how.

20 January 2012 1 Comment

Checking in from Wisconsin

I am an expert in annoyance.
I also excel at frustration.
In exasperation, I graduated at the top of my class.

In sadness, however, I an a solid D minus.

Funneling my sadness into
annoyance,
frustration and
exasperation has always worked for me.

Annoyance means it’s someone else’s fault,
Frustration shows me they’re not doing it the right [my] way
Exasperation, well, for crumps sake, could you be any more wrong?

Here in Wisconsin, three inches of snow on the car, 14° F outside, I’m so full of sadness it’ has spilled out of the funnel. There’s too much sadness that I can’t wipe it up before it falls on the counter, fills up the room and spills out the door.

I can’t.
I can’t turn it into annoyance, frustration or exasperation.
I can’t.

There’s sadness all over the place and I can’t can’t can’t do anything other than sit with it.
And just, be sad.

Uncool,
to be unwilling to find the bright side or the
progress or the
gratitude or the
myriad of positive coping strategies our sweet internet is full of.

So uncool, in this country, to just be sad.

We sit and we tell the same story six times again and we wait for bedpans and we cry and we cry and we cry and we cry, because we are sad.

And no amount of annoyance, frustration or exasperation can make it go away.

13 January 2012 2 Comments

Proper Lighting

Back in the early aughts, I used to write a poem every Friday. Inspired by Amy Turn Sharp, I’m bringing it back. Let’s try this!

Lady, lady
Come to me.

Cause lady, lady
I can’t see.

My nightlight broke
The bright went out
Fumble, fumble, cast about.

My eyes, they broke
My sight it went.
I feel the breath of monsters here,

Just like me, they’re spent.
Just like me, they’re spent.

Lady, lady
Can’t I just sleep?
It seems more safe for me

Lady, lady,
Get the light
So I can finally see.

Turn on my own damn light,
you say?

I thought I might be dead.

This switch, you say,
above me?

This one above my head?

Arms reach, I guess.
You were so right.
This darkness comes undone.

Flashlights, candles,
lamps and flares,
bright shining as the sun.

12 January 2012 7 Comments

Mom update

Mom’s getting better,
she’s getting better,
she’s getting better.

My sister just left the rehab center where she’d been for the last 5 days.
She’s spent.

It’s so strange, this hope and pain,
exhaustion and progress.

They’ll send Mom home at the end of the month.
She may or may not walk at that time.
She’s getting older.
So are we.

Her brain is all there. That’s such a relief.
In fact, the day after Mom’s stroke, she told Grandpa to mail the girls some gifts for Three Kings Day — so they’d be here in time.

They were here, in time.

Mom’s left side still isn’t responding the way she’d like.
She wants to play piano again.
That makes me cry every time I think about it.
(And then I go practice the piano myself.)

There’s a non-stop parade of her friends through her room. She has so much love for the world. It makes my heart grin to know that the world loves her back.

Thanks so much for all of your good wishes and thoughts and kindnesses.
The world loves YOU right back.

11 January 2012 Comment

La Condesa and the Muppets

Last Saturday, our friends organized a group trip to see the Muppets at our beloved Cameo Cinema.

First, however, there was brunch.
(There is always brunch.)

La Condesa is the latest hangout from a gaggle of hang out spaces in our little town. Locations for other times of the day include Farmstead and Bar Terra.

The good La Condesa folks put together our very own brunch menu, and timed it so everyone would have time to get to the movie theater. Better yet, they planned it so everyone who participated just paid a flat fee. Mmm. Brunchease.