Category Archives: Family/Friends

Realization

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It just occurred to me last night that the reason I am so exhausted and in more pain is that I’m doing everything. I mean, I knew I was doing everything, but I hadn’t really thought about all the little things (and bigger things) Dad used to do to help. Have you considered that I’m just an idiot? I guess I just didn’t realize how much he really helped.

Before Dad’s bout with pneumonia, he was helping. (And helping even more before his fall and heat stroke.) Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect him to help. I’m just saying that he isn’t helping like he used to. Maybe he can in the future, but not now. He used to wash dishes at least once a day. He would transfer laundry from the washer to the dryer, and then put most everything away. He used to scoop the litter box when he got up in the morning and again when he went to bed. (I’d do it about 1,500 times in between.) He also gave the cats fresh water daily, knowing that since I walk with crutches, I can’t carry the water bowls. He swept the bathroom floor every time one of the cats (mostly BobCat!) kicked litter all over the place. Dad did a lot of things to help, some little, some big. Now he’s not helping at all. It’s all on me now. 

I have to pace myself and do a little, then take a break. Meals have become a major pain in my ass. Oftentimes before, Dad would just make himself a sandwich for dinner, and he was fine with that. He got his own snacks and breakfast. I would prepare lunch, sometimes something quick, and other times, I’d actually cook. Now, I wait on Dad hand and foot. I don’t mind that so much because he is my Dad and my best friend. I’m taking care of him the best I can. Anyone who thinks otherwise can kiss my ever-lovin’ ass.

Until next time,

Goodbye 2025!!

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2025 was the worst year of my life. Worse than when my mom passed away. Worse than when my Granny passed away. Worse than when I made the decision to leave my ex. Worse than when my daughter found herself mixed up with the wrong man, drugs, and ended up in court, and in jail for 2 weeks. This year has been one I’d like to erase from history. 

In July, Dad fell outside, and I had to call 911 for assistance in getting him off the ground. That didn’t go as planned. The ambulance took over an hour to arrive, and during that hour, in the hottest part of the day, my dad had a heat stroke. Three of our volunteer firefighters showed up to help me keep Dad cool with wet towels. When the ambulance finally came, I thought I was going to have a heat stroke, too. It was 90-something that day! Upon arrival to the hospital, I could barely breathe. I thought we were going to lose Dad. The grief was all-consuming, and if it weren’t for my sisters, brother-in-law, “other daughter,” granddaughter, and grandson, I’d have been a much worse mess than I was. They were there for me. They comforted me when I slipped into deeper depression and when all I could do was cry. 

Dad recovered from that horrific incident. My son and his wife helped. My sister stayed to help, too. She was here for over 2 months. Dad got stronger and stronger, and I was finally able to care for him on my own. During that recovery time, there was some family drama that I won’t go into here, but because of that drama, things will never be the same with certain family members, and they will never get the same version of me as before. 

In October, my stubborn Dad decided he needed to do a chore outside. It was something that Contractor #2 could have done, but Dad wanted to do it. Well, I wasn’t going to let him go out and do it without my help. In the process of doing this chore, Dad fell and not just onto the ground. He fell into the barbed wire fence and ripped his forearm open. When I say ripped, I mean ripped big time! Dad is on a blood thinner, so this was a problem. I called 911 because I couldn’t stop the bleeding, no matter what I did. The ambulance arrived in 25 minutes, much improved from the last time. He ended up with stitches that night. He healed nicely, and I told him flat out, “No more outside chores for you!” 

In December, Dad started feeling poorly. He was weak and short of breath. He was panting and struggling to walk. I kept telling him that he needed to go to the doctor. He said he knew, but he kept putting it off. He didn’t want to go. After several days, he decided he’d better do something. He knew he wouldn’t be able to walk to the ER entrance, even if I pulled up front. He said, “You’d better call 911.” I did just that, and 30 minutes later, the ambulance pulled up. Before the ambulance came, our volunteer firefighters came to help again. They immediately checked his pulse rate and oxygen level and gave him oxygen while we waited for the ambulance. Poor Dad had been suffering from a case of pneumonia! It wasn’t full-blown pneumonia, but it could have been had he not gone to the hospital! He was on O2 the entire time. He was in the hospital for 9 days and came home the day after Christmas with home O2 equipment. We skipped Christmas altogether. 

It’s been difficult taking care of him by myself. My pain level has skyrocketed, and my mobility issues are worse than ever before. Since they didn’t walk Dad in the hospital, he became unable to do anything unassisted. So, I have been helping him with everything. A few days ago, I told him he has to start walking a little at a time so he can get stronger. He’s been doing that, and I think within a week or so, I may not have to work as hard to take care of him. He’ll be a little more independent, and I’ll still be right here to help. 

So, there’s 2025. The first 6 months weren’t too bad, but July brought us pain and uncertainty. I’m happy that I still have Dad here with me to bring in the New Year. He will be 89 in February. I hope to have many more years with him, but I accept the fact that my time with him may be coming to an end. He has been my best friend for so many years. He helped me raise my children when their father couldn’t be bothered. We designed and started building our new house together, the house we have yet to move into. I hope Dad sees the house finished and can actually live in it and be proud of what he has done. 

I know I’m rambling, so I’ll finish this post with my best wishes to you and yours in the New Year! May we all have a great year!

Until next time,

Why Do People Start Blogging?

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I can’t speak for every blogger out there because they all have their own reasons for blogging. Some of those reasons are:

  • to share expertise and knowledge
  • to share recipes
  • to build their brand
  • to generate income
  • to connect with family members
  • to connect with like-minded people

That’s just to name a few. I write a blog to express my feelings. I write to release the stress of everyday life. I write about personal opinions, my own experiences, and feelings. No one has to agree, and my perception of events or ideas might differ from others. Do I get myself in hot water writing such a personal blog? I do.

Having said that, I recently posted about something that happened that pissed some people off, even though no names were mentioned. I pulled the post at the request of someone who means a lot to me. That will not happen again. This is MY blog and I write what I want. I’ll always write what I want. I will also fight for the right of others to write what they want. This is America, after all.

I started blogging back in 2008, when my daughter was in a relationship that I knew would end badly. I was stressed and worried, and writing about everything I was feeling really helped. Writing made me feel calmer, so I continued and haven’t stopped. I have connected with so many people who’ve been able to relate to what I’ve written over the years. I may not have helped anyone with their problems, but just maybe I helped them feel not so alone when shit hits the fan. We are all going through life without a handbook, you know?

When I write about events involving specific people, I never use names. This keeps people anonymous. No one knows who they are. I’m not interested in exposing anyone’s identity. I’m just writing about my experiences, feelings, and my perception. Those things aren’t necessarily going to be the same for everyone involved. People perceive things differently.

Do you have a blog? Please share your link in the comments and tell readers why you decided to start blogging!

They/Them Pronouns

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By now, many of us have a non-binary loved one or at least know someone who is non-binary. It still seems weird to me, as it probably does to most people. I mean, we are born male or female, right? A non-binary person is one who does not exclusively identify as male or female. It’s hard for me to imagine or understand this, however, who the hell am I to disagree with how anyone identifies? No one has the right to disagree with how someone feels about themselves or how they identify. Even if we don’t understand it. Even if we don’t like it. Even if we think it’s not how God intended things to be. We all need to learn to just back off and let people be who they want to be; let people be who they are. It’s none of our damn business.

My biggest complaint about the non-binary person is that we are expected to use the pronouns they or them instead of he/him or she/her. I think most will agree that it’s difficult to do this because we were taught how to use pronouns as we were growing up. Sometimes it just doesn’t sound right when you’re used to saying, “Does he want a cupcake?” to now say without stumbling over the words, “Do they want a cupcake?” Or is it “Does they want a cupcake?” See, it’s confusing. One way sounds better but at the same time, they is usually used when speaking of more than one person. It could be confusing and we might say it incorrectly.

Anyway, back to my complaint. If the non-binary person expects us to use their preferred pronouns, then I expect in return that they be patient with those of us who find it hard to get used to. Just give us a little slack as we try to relearn what we were taught growing up.

Simple respect and understanding goes both ways.

The Night Dad Scared The H*ll out of Me

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It’s getting to be too much for both of us. Getting groceries, that is. I always place a curbside order once a week. I try to limit items to no more than 20. It never fails I end up with more than 20 because one of us forgot we needed toilet paper or paper towels or something else.

Dad and I pick up the order, which is the easy part. (Good grief, I hope Walmart never discontinues this service!) When we get home, I load bags of groceries into a utility cart. Heavier items go on the bottom, of course. Dad pulls the cart up the ramp and into the house. The problem is, we still have some heavy items like water and kitty litter. I use our lunch cart for those items; I bring the cart to the door and Dad carries those items to the door and puts them on the cart. It’s not far because I pull right up to the ramp. When all is unloaded, I tell Dad to go change his clothes so he can sit and rest. I unload the groceries from the utility cart and put things away.

Dad changed his clothes and sat down in his chair to rest. He was exhausted and went to sleep. He fell asleep off and on for the rest of the day. Later, he watched a movie or something on the Firestick. I was in the kitchen doing a puzzle, listening to an audiobook.

When it crept closer to 10pm, which is his bedtime, I knew he had fallen asleep because he was so quiet. Normally, I hear him cough, laugh, talk to one of the cats, or more often than not, drop something like the remote. He falls asleep in his chair all the time so I didn’t think twice about it…until it was 10:15 and he was still not even getting ready for bed. Usually, he gets ready for bed around 9:45.

I went to check on him and there he was fast asleep. I saw his chest rising and falling but he was out like a light! I called out to him to tell him what time it was. He didn’t wake up. I called out louder and still, he didn’t wake up. I sat down in my chair to give the furbabies their Temptations snacks, as per our normal routine. Trust me, they were all sitting by my chair waiting. They knew it was past time! 

I kept trying to wake Dad, getting louder and still, nothing. Finally, I touched his hand and tried again to wake him. He just would not wake up! I shook his arm; still nothing. I shook harder and finally, thank God, he woke up! He scared me to death. I thought I had lost him. I just cried in a huge wave of relief. He had no idea what was going on. 

I dread the day I have to say goodbye to this man who has truly been there for me my entire life. He is closer to a best friend than I’ve ever had in my life. (Even closer than the best friend I actually had, who come to find out, was judging me all along.) He has helped me raise my kids when their father couldn’t be bothered to write to them. We have shared many things, including finances and health issues.

Losing Dad will be the biggest loss I will ever face.