Saying Those Words: The Final Day (And Results Of)

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” ~ A.A. Milne,  author of Winnie-the-Pooh

The moment is gone. She is gone. And now it is Friday evening with the knowledge that I will never see our social services coordinator again.

Another person will come and take her place. Just like the people before her.

The residence, MY NEIGHBORS, altogether collected $295 for her. I think they tossed it into a money order and put it in one of two greeting cards that were set aside for her.

This apparently is the most money that was ever collected for any member of SGC staff who was leaving their position here. And yes, this is saying a lot. Many of us were waiting for her to go to lunch. This morning as I was having my morning coffee, Mrs. Irwin mentioned that she was going to have lunch with two co-workers from which the agency that hired her.

It was going to be a 90 minute lunch. What were they going to do, fire her?? It was her last day of work here.

90 minutes was all that was needed in order to set up the room, put out a spread of finger foods and snacks, decorate a little with flowers and balloons and then sit and wait for her to return back to work in the dark.

She actually arrived a little bit after 1:00 PM and some of the neighbors were getting ants in their pants. But eventually she arrived back to work from lunch and the lights went back off, the door shut, and about HALF of all total residents who live here….. sat in total and complete silence.

The apartment manager was behind it all. And so was Mr. Irwin, her husband. He would show up later and join us for a brief time.

It worked. She admitted that she had convinced herself that she only THOUGHT something was coming, but couldn’t quite say for sure what exactly it would be. All of those neighbors who would have been the perfect candidates for letting the cat out of the bag, either by accident or on purpose, never gave her a clue that we were planning a gathering in the afternoon.

She admitted rather quickly that she became misty-eyed. But she did not actually break down into tears. She was given a plant from the collective group. She also received a nice bouquet of flowers that I know of and the money.

I personally wrote her a poem. Telling her that it is hard to say farewell but that we here on the property would remember her and miss her.

Her response?

“That’s impressive.”

Then someone just jumped on in and bragged that poetry is what I do best. I don’t know why they jumped in like that. Mrs. Irwin knew that I wrote poetry.

The event came to an end and Mrs. Irwin made a point to visit those who were unable to get out of their homes to say goodbye to them.

I told her personally that I would be back and I came home to take off the black suit I had put on. I did see her going along the sidewalk, passing by my front door, but I never chased her down.

I went over to her office and she was still gone. Or so I thought.

She was in the apartment manager’s office behind closed doors with all three members of staff together.

I kept getting looks from our maintenance man. A person who doesn’t have a very high score for resident approval ratings. He never gave me any indication of whether or not they were having a private conversation or just chit-chatting with the door closed. He just kept looking at me like he was privileged and I was an outsider.

It was pissing me off because he kept looking through the window in the door, but would not acknowledge anything about me being there. So I left.

Then a little bit later, no more than fifteen minutes I had received a telephone call that a home health nurse was coming to visit. So I scattered to go back to the office area to do what I had to do and say those words that I hate saying and be able to find closure to the situation.

But when I got into the building, she was gone.

I felt the tears building up. But the wind that was powerfully blowing into my face prevented them from falling down my face. I was asked later by the visiting nurse if I cried but I told her that I almost did but could not.

I never got to say goodbye to her. I did get the chance to give her the poem that I wrote and to take a photograph with her. But I did not get that opportunity to say farewell to her. 

And as you probably can already tell, I am so frustrated and disappointed and actually BLAMING the maintenance man for this missed opportunity. Usually when a door is closed, that means privacy. But he could have given me some sort of indication. And he didn’t. He could have, what a selfish man.

I’m pissed.

I ran outside and looked at the parking space that she had been parking in for the past eight or nine months and it was empty.

She was gone. The apartment manager even told me that she was gone and it was final.

Some will argue that since I didn’t actually tell her goodbye that I don’t have to and that she will come back. I do believe that anything is possible. But for her to come back to visit or whatever is less than favorable. At least for now. Maybe down the road.  

I begin the weekend, angered and hurt and disappointed.

So farewell Mrs. Irwin. You’ve done so much more than what you realize for me and for the rest of us. I am going to miss you.

 

 

 

The Last Goodbye (Sneak Peak Review)

I am one ball of emotional mess right now.

The band BEAUTIFUL DISTURBANCE kind of leaked their own music video that is soon to be released on Facebook this morning and I think that I caught the end of it before they hid it again on YouTube.

The song will be released on the 23rd of January. I am guessing it will be available for downloading and all of that. And probably the video will be back live again at that time as well.

I was not sure what to expect. I know that I love these guys and they treat me like family. Even more than Olive Garden could ever dream of doing. Besides, BEAUTIFUL DISTURBANCE doesn’t charge me for food. But I shall digress from explaining the differences.

I know that personally, I go on and on and on about my favorite song from them called “Nearly Forgotten” but has this one reached the top as well and could it actually dethrone what I have been considering to be their best song that they ever wrote??

Being that it was only a sneak peak, I won’t give too much of it away. But everything about it just latched on to me in some personal and emotional way. Before the first verse was even being sung, I had to push away from the desk. Both of my hands on my face and covering my mouth.

Brenda Flores

And then lyrically it struck!!! I felt myself leaning forward until I fell down on my hands and knees on the floor. Still watching the video on the monitor, I wept so hard in my own hands. The goosebumps, tears, and tingles were relentless.

The song is full of heartache for sure. The musical talents of Auggie Del Rey and the vocal power of  Brenda Flores made for such an emotional ride through personal turmoil as I felt I was right along with them in this power struggle for love and the fight to keep the balance of everything around us to keep it alive and not let it die.

There’s going to be a lot of people who are going to be in such a similar situation that equals with the lyrics of this song, that its going to speak to them as well.

I think that I was very fortunate to see the sneak peak. And it drives me to the edge of insanity to know what the rest of the album is going to sound like.

This band has made such an impact both musically and personally for me. And I love them all. Its just so awesome that they are coming out with kick ass stuff!!

And to think, all of this so close to my own birthday. I understand that Auggie Del Rey’s birthday is one day before mine. So we can share in that. That’s cool. Early birthday gifts??? Why not!!!

But it really was an awesome tune. Once they open it back up to the public again… I’m going to be all over it.

 

Tears

“When a person cries and the first drops of tears comes from the RIGHT EYE, it’s HAPPINESS. But when the first roll is from the LEFT EYE, it’s PAIN.”~ Unknown

This caught my attention. Mainly because that everywhere I went to research on this, it kept saying that this was a psychological fact.

But there was nothing to base it on. NO documentation whatsoever.

It would however make for a great piece of trivia of the human emotion.

We all cry. Some in pain, some with joy. And sometimes for both. I just never had heard this before about whether or not the first drop of tears comes out of which eye that would express either joy or pain.

Here’s the biggest problem with that. When a person cries, they are not really all that concerned with where the tears are coming from. They don’t pay any attention to which eye the first tears have fallen. So the attempt to notice something like that is basically fruitless.

I think that the only way that could be observed is if someone ELSE was watching you cry. And let’s be honest: How many of us are quite willing to just cry in front of someone? I surely don’t know a lot of people.

It all falls back to the point that nobody can prove this to be true. And nobody can prove this to be false. There’s simply nothing out there that I have found to support or deny the claim of which eye the tear first falls from to express either happiness or pain.

Tears are tears. And a part of the human condition and emotion. 

Just like the old wives tale of an itchy palm. One palm means that money is coming to you and the other palm means that you will be having less money. But it gets lost in the fog as to which palm means what. Left or right???

My right palm was itching a week ago. A few days later, I received $200. It itched again on Thursday and today I received $20. But does the actually skin irritation to our hands actually have something meaningful to do with what befalls us? And as I am sure that Dr. Froth would inquire: What does it mean if your butt itches??

Is there a real connection to it? Is there a real link?  seriously doubt it.

So I welcome any and all medical or psychological documentation that would lead to facts that the first tears falling from either eye actually means something, whether happiness or joy.

 

Twenty-Five Years

I never would have thought that this day would come. 

I didn’t ever think that it would. But it has. And I definitely never would have been able to tell you so many years ago what I thought it would be like.

Twenty-five years ago on this day, I lost my mother to cancer. In my mind it is rather difficult to believe that it has been that long.

Sad to say that some of my memories of my mother when she was with us are starting to turn into shades of grey and white. But not all of them. I will sometimes remember certain times growing up when she was not sick.

Nevertheless, this was “the day”.

Each of member of my family remembers it in their own special way. Perhaps they don’t remember all of the finer details of that day, but we all do remember.

I wrote about it in my blog one year ago. If you care to read it, you can find it here:

https://dambreaker.wordpress.com/2011/07/25/mother/

I can still hear the voice of my mother yelling at me until it cracked. Usually that meant that I was in big trouble. And ironically it is that yelling voice in my head that comforts me to a point. Although the mental image in my head of what my mother looked like is almost gone. I personally do not own any photographs of her when she was still with us. Other members of my family however do have some photographs.

Last night, I remember feeling very cold. And there honestly wasn’t any reason for me to be that cold. That was a bit strange. But I guess that one could argue that the cold feeling that surrounded me was my mother wrapping me in her arms. Others probably wouldn’t see it that way at all.

Then I had a particular memory of seeing a photograph of my mother standing by the sliding glass door. There were no lights on and she was in her night gown. Her hair slowly starting to come back after all of the chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Half of her body was in a bright light from the natural light that  came through the glass, and the other half of her body was as dark as the rest of the house. The family dog laying at her feet, staring out through the glass door as my mother was. It was taken a few years before she would pass away. When I remembered that photograph, I cried.

Everyone handles death and grieving differently. Some cry, some weep. I tend to be the one that talks about it, over and over again.

And yet through all of the sadness and tears, I must always remember that my mother was someone who loved her children. That includes me.

There are some children in this world who have parents that don’t bother to care. I’m fortunate enough to have had a mother who did love her children very much. Even though among my two brothers and sister, we always seem to have stories or memories of our mother beating our asses when we did something wrong. Of course that is grossly an exaggeration. She did love us enough to let us have it and discipline us when we did something wrong. And now when it is talked about, we laugh… even though back then, I’m sure we all cried our eyes out when we got punished.

Today is no difference in the matters of difficulty than any other year that has passed. But I think that what I CAN remember is something that I can hold on to and nobody can take it away. I still miss my mother and I love her. It just feels strange to say that she has been gone for so long.

 

 

 

 

Frustration In Patience

“A man who is a master of patience is master of everything else. “~George Savile

 

This day is hell.

 

Yeah, I know… it will get better. Or tomorrow won’t be so bad or some kind of crap like that. And yes, I know that there will come a day when it won’t be so bad or so hard. But right now in this moment? It is pure hell.

 

This morning, I was overwhelmed by many people to see me. I know that they were here for my healing processes and what not, but going through the motions has brought me beyond the point of breaking down into so many tears.

 

The wound care wasn’t so bad. But it is painful enough. And I just cannot tell whether or not I am healing because I cannot see the wound for myself. I have to rely on the judgement of nurses who come to assist with that. But now that I’m starting with a BETTER home health agency, it’s only been day 2 with them and they really have nothing to go by as to whether or not the wound is getting smaller or healing as it should or whatever.

 

While nursing staff was there, the physical therapist came in for her evaluation as my doctor told PT to come in. I’ve dealt with her before… she’s great! An awesome person, but I’ve not seen her since she discharged me from services about a month ago. I know that she had told me then that if she needed to come back, that she would. However she would not be coming back into my home if the doctor’s orders were to continue to work on the same thing that she and I had been for many months prior, which was the injury to my upper back and shoulders. As she puts it, “we’ve reached that plateau to where there’s nothing I can do that will make anything better.” She also had been doing some deep tissue massage work. (Can you seriously look me in the eye and tell me that nobody would enjoy massage work?)  So I didn’t want her to think that’s what the doctor was having her come in for. Of course she knew better. She saw that my condition had actually become worse than it was from the last time she saw me.

 

How embarrassing for me. And she said she felt sorry that she was seeing me so diminished.

 

Once the nurse left, the evaluation was nearly over. We started to talk about how things have been going for me since she last saw me, but that was stopped when podiatry came knocking on the door.

 

Triple whammy, if you will!!

 

By the time I was nearly done with the PT evaluation, I had gone through so much that I was in pure pain. And several hours away before I could take anything for it.

 

My level of patience clearly isn’t where it could be. Through my tears, I keep wishing and wishing that this was healed and I can get on with life. Not that I am not grateful for the nursing staff and their help and the agreement that PT will once again come back and work with me. But I just wished that my patience would grow. I know that I still have a long road ahead. I’ve only been out of the hospital for a week and a half. It is just like I said in a previous blog post, but with different circumstances, the NOT KNOWING how long this will take, is pushing me towards the edge of insanity.

 

I’m not as fast as I used to be. I’m not as strong as I used to be. But I am still alive and I still have my sense of humor. And I blame it all on being flat in a hospital bed for 11 days, whether that is a correct assessment or not. And now my body’s main focus is to try and heal the wound, taking what seems to be every bit of energy out of me to the point that I cannot do other things.

 

Of course PT recommends that I don’t do a thing over the weekend. But I honestly do not see how I could at this point. So I do not see a problem there.

 

Just at the point where I was telling others that things were getting better, as slow as it has been. Now I feel like I’ve gone backwards. But right now, that’s just how I feel through all of this pain and discomfort.

 

I REALLY NEED A HUG!

 

 

Truth

“If the truth hurts, imagine how a lie would feel…”~ Amy Diggs

I had a female colleague come up to me recently and she asked me a question that was both surprising and difficult. She had asked me if I could see myself in a relationship with her.

I totally did not expect this kind of question to come up in conversation, even though I had previously seen warning signs and her line of questions that led up to it were very much so in the category of hinting at it. Yet, it still surprised me.

My first reaction was to try and avoid the subject, mainly because I was so much in shock at the time that I had heard it. But as relentless as she was, I knew that eventually I would have to face up to her question and give her an answer.

I told her “No.” She did inquire as to why I had said that, and I began to give my reasons that her request was a bit incomplete. Yet she was apparently unable to listen to my reasons for very long, so my bottom line for answering as I did was because I did not know her well enough to just start a relationship out of nowhere. Naturally, it appeared that I had destroyed her heart. At first, she held back but she could not keep her tears in for very long.

Those who truly know me understand that I cannot stand seeing a woman in tears, or ANYONE for that matter! Knowing that I had ruined her idea, and perhaps her hopes and dreams didn’t go down easily. Not for her, and not for me.

But I told her the truth. There was no sense in lying to her just to make sure that she was smiling and happy. And since I had started out with a “no”, it would not make sense to quickly go back and change answers, just so that she would not cry.

And before you go running to write an e-mail to me, making cracks about me being a “heartbreaker” or worse, start with the hate mail… let me just say that I’ve been there where she was. I have most definitely felt the harsh sting of rejection and have been spurned before. And more than just a couple of times. Yet, I would never expect those who had rejected me to LIE to me, just so that I would be happy.

It was my decision to tell this woman the truth. And tell it from the very beginning. But to my credit, I did tell her that I enjoyed her company and she has been a very funny and awesome colleague. That’s cliché, I know.

There was no way that I would have even answered with “I don’t know”, or “maybe” because in those cases it could have allowed her to fill her own head with fantasies about the possibility, when I knew for a fact there was no possibility.

I do not know who Amy Diggs is. I do not know where she came up with such an intense and powerful quote. But I agree with it wholly 100%. It would have hurt this woman far worse if I would have lied to her.

I’ve never been a fan of the “Check YES or NO” scenario when it comes to relating to the opposite sex. I haven’t been in grade school in quite a long time. But I know that for her as an adult, one of the two things will happen:

• Her feelings will be hurt for a short time. She will harbor some resentment for the rejection she received and began to have feelings of hatred. And in the end, I’ll never hear from her ever again.
• After a short time of hurt feelings, she will heal from the inside and at some point be able to move on from this rejection. And we’ll be as we were yesterday.

Telling the truth often is like that ouchie you get from falling off your bike. It stings like crazy at first, then it hurts. But after a while it begins to heal and soon the scar goes away. Does anyone honestly disagree with that??

Yes, I honestly agree that “the truth will set you free”. And I also agree that “the truth often hurts”. As for my personal feelings, I would much rather hurt from the beginning rather than be led on to something that isn’t true. I don’t believe that people like being lied to by any means, but I would not want to be lied to just because it is an effort to save my feelings at the time, because lies always come out in the end. And by then, the situation is far worse to deal with mentally for me after being lied to.

Always tell the truth, right from the start. Even if you know it is going to hurt. If you care about them and they actually care about you, then they’ll see the significance of your truth. And then they will appreciate you all that much more for being honest with them to begin with.

If I had started to hate those women who had spurned me, I sure would be far worse off and a lot more lonely of a person. It hurt, I cried. But I healed, and I moved on, and I’m still alive today.

Yet for this particular woman’s situation, it is still “fresh” in a sense. It just happened. I feel awful to a point about it right now. But I also feel that I had done the right thing.