Love and loss and stupid emotions

Damn you Rachel Lucas!
I sat on my front porch with my blackberry (yeah, I'm that much of a nerd) and cried today because of Rachel Lucas's dog. A dog I have never met owed by a person that I don't really know. I've read her blog and often feel like I know her, but I don't. And dammit I am still crying and running snot like a faucet. I'm gross and red and puffy because she had to put down this dog that she loved so much. It doesn't help that Digger looked an awful lot like my sweet Pepper that I lost a few years ago, but that's really not it. Pepper never got so bad. When she knew that it was her time, she left on her own. Other things in life at the time were unfortunately more pressing and I think on some level she knew that I couldn't deal with her dying at that moment. She climbed the fence with her worn out hips and left to die alone. I looked for her, but I never found her. Not really knowing what happened to her was horrible. She had been my dog since I was 16. She had been the litmus test of boyfriends. If she didn't like them, I didn't need them around. I should have paid more attention to her in that regard. But she loved my husband from the first time she met him. She would actually obey him. I was the only one she had ever obeyed previously. But because life truly sucked at the time of her departure, I never got to really mourn her loss. Sorry for anyone reading this, but that still feels a little too personal to share on the internet. But her blog didn't really make me think about my dog.
I am sitting here bawling in my home office because dammit if Rachel's feelings about the whole thing didn't make me think of Granddad. And yeah, I know that sounds really stupid. But when she talked about how hard it was to leave Digger alone in that room at the vet's office, I saw Granddad. All alone in his hospice room. We had packed up all of our things, and everyone was ready to go to my aunt's house to just be there with each other. I felt awful just leaving him there alone with these strangers. He was dead. It was just his empty shell. But I still wanted to be with him so that he wouldn't be alone. I know that was just me. I wasn't really ready to let him go. I'm still not. He wasn't alone at all. He was finally and completely free of pain. It was wonderful for him, and it still is. He isn't alone. It's me that lost him. I'm the one that still wants to hear the stories he had to tell even though most I had heard a thousand times. I'll probably always want just one more. He looked so small, and that's not who he is in my memories. Only his hands looked the same. Taking him to hospice care was the right decision, but I am so glad I didn't have to be the one to make it. His first day there, he told me that he was still going to fight, but the truth of the matter was that the battle had already been lost. He was in hospice so they could keep him comfortable while he died. He made the decision to go himself. But while he was there he begged for all of us to get him out of that bed and give him a chance to live. He couldn't get out of the bed. If we had ignored everything and gotten him up, he would have collapsed in agony. His back was broken. He was riddled with cancer. There really was no more that could be done. We buried him not long ago. The box was far too small to hold the man that he had been. His body was cremated and buried just 2 feet below the ground.
It's amazing to me that love is so boundless. The grief for a lost pet is no less real than the loss of a person. It seems that it should be. But the pain really is the same. While Granddad was dying, I lost my pet betta. I made the comment to my friends on the daily kitten that it just seemed so small. It really felt like the least of my worries considering everything else going on. But Lynn said to me, "Nothing you love in whatever capacity, is small. So sorry for your loss MM. Love Lynn." I'm not sure I really loved that fish. I've loved fish before, but I didn't really form a true attachement to that one. But the sentiment is so very, very true.
I'm so blessed to know God. As a Christian, I know that God is love. I know from experience that love is boundless even in my limited capacity. I can really love the dog and the owner of said dog when in reality, I don't know them. I can be loved by the amazing community on the daily kitten when I don't know them in the real world. I'm not sure they know how much their comments and prayers have meant to me. And I have these amazing people that I have met in the blogosphere. Like Megan from CastoCreations. I got the opportunity to reach out to her and share some pretty raw emotions. Love isn't limited to our households or our families or even to our species.
Rachel, I don't know if you will ever read this. I hope you do, and I also hope that you understand that although I would love for you to find God, I am not attempting to convert you. You have asked before why Christians choose to be Christian and not something else, and that is a really good question. I'm a Christian because God is love. The love that is being poured out from your commenters; I believe that is God. The undefinable, unexplanable arms that embrace you at that moment when you are at your lowest; that's God. God understands when no one else does. At least, the God I believe in does. He understands because he created all of it. And He understands my doubts when I am in the dark places. The muslim god doesn't. Budda doesn't. Only my Christian God does. No one else's god is love. I cannot fathom a world that just created itself by chance. And because we as His creation have such an amazing capacity to love, our creator must have even more. I will continue to pray for you. This loss is great because you have loved. Thank you for the opportunity to love you too. (In a completely non-gay sort of way)

Love and Laughter

As my regular readers are aware, it's been a rough time for my family lately. Granddad passed away around 3 o'clock on Thursday October 11th. He will be greatly missed by us all. I've been told by a few people that reading my entries through this whole thing has been comforting to them. I'm so glad. I've drawn a lot of comfort from the support offered to me by so many of you.

Since Thursday, my aunt and uncle opened up their home to all of us. It's served as the base where food is delivered and serves as some insulation from the outside world. As much as I appreciate the concern, there are only so many times I want to answer the question, "How are you doing?" and "Are you okay?" Not to mention, "Is there anything I can do?" I am doing as well as can be expected. Honestly, even though I had been preparing for this, it has still been a lot harder than I thought. There is something you can do, keep us in prayer. If you want to do something in addition to that, the family has asked that donations be made to Odyssey House or the American Cancer Society. By no means do I want anyone to refrain from showing their concern, but it is nice to have a haven from it.

I don't know how it is with other families, but there haven't been a lot of tears when we are all together. We've brought in everyone's photo albums which have been strewn about my aunt's living room and den. She and my mother are scanning select pictures to be made into a slideshow for the memorial service. The rest of us have been sitting around looking through the albums and reminiscing about wonderful stories. There are several pictures that I had never seen and stories that I had never heard. There's lots of laughter and the love is tangible.

In one album were sketches that I had heard about, but never previously seen. I will be getting copies. These are beautiful pencil sketches done by POWs after WWII. Two of Granddad and 2 of the office they built for him. Granddad was over a POW camp in France. Granddad always treated these men as equals. He knew they had been drafted into the war just like he was and never treated them as enemies. The men loved him for it. They built him his own office, made him a clock, and crafted an ashtray out of artillery shells that is in my mother's living room today. The clock was stolen by a GI that was charged with making sure it got home. The POWs shipped the ashtray and that actually made it back. He treated those men with dignity which they returned to him. I don't believe Granddad ever met an enemy, just peers that happened to be on the opposing side.

Yesterday my cousin, who has an inborn gift for children, brought sugar cookie supplies. Her 2 year old son and my 8 year old son made cookies. When it came time for sprinkles, he said to my son, "open your mouth" and proceeded to sprinkle directly into my son's mouth. Everyone cracked up. I'm so proud of my son for doing so well with his younger cousins. Actually I am very proud of the way he has handled all of this. Explaining Granddad's death to him was one of the hardest things to do. As he said his prayers the other night he asked that God show Granddad around in heaven so Granddad could show it to us someday. Kids say it so well sometimes.

Tonight, the church is feeding the family. I am looking forward to some more family time. The memorial service is tomorrow afternoon. It's going to be hard. As will the upcoming holidays. But I am really lucky to have my family and my wonderful spouse with me. I think it is better for us to have each other to lean on.

Granddad

I want to give an update, but there really isn't much to give. They were unable to get a blood pressure reading this morning. It will probably be today. I'll go up there tonight.

It's 3:25 pm. I just got the call. He's gone

Beautiful Moment

May the road rise to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
The sun shine warm upon your face
The rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of His hand

Old Irish Blessing. I sang it, through tears, to Granddad last night. That's where I stopped singing. He'd spent the day completely unresponsive, but shed a tear when I finished. The nurse said it was a special gift for me. I think she was right. Prior to that, I wanted to believe that he knew I was there, but I just wasn't sure. I'm so glad I could give that gift to him.

I'm kind of just waiting for the call today. The call telling me that he has gone home. I think his spiritual body and his physical body are separating. That's why the only reaction we got from him was the single tear. It was tearful but beautiful.

Someone brought a kitten for her grandmother to see. Cute little tuxedo guy. Nana snuggled him into her sweater where he purred. It was the most she'd smiled in a while.

It might be today

Mom called, it might be today. Of course, it might have been Friday, or a week ago at the hospital. Yesterday, the doctor said he would be surprised if Granddad lasted another 2 days. But of course it's not an exact science. Granddad will go when he is good and ready. I won't ever be ready, but I'm as close to ready as I am going to get. Today, he is not responding. Not to Nana or anyone else. They are just giving him regular infusions of pain meds and playing soft music.

I'm not dropping everything and running over there. I kind of want to, but I've done that so much lately. And there's not really anything I could do. For now, I'm staying at work and have apparently forgotten how to eat a sandwich. I seem to have decided to eat it from both ends and work towards the middle. I took a picture, I'll add it later. Sorry about the tangent, I just looked down at my lunch and realized I've suddenly become retarded. Laugh, it's allowed. Healthy actually.

In my heart, I hope it's today. I really hate to say that, but I've set up a pattern of being brutally honest here and don't really plan to change it. I know that the only way for Granddad to stop suffering is to let the angels take him. He told Nana yesterday that he was going with them. Then the rest of us can really mourn his loss as we haven't been able to do yet. And we can refocus and be able to celebrate his life. Can't really do that right now, no clarity.

I'm going tonight. Even though he probably will not know that I am there. That just means he is closer to home.

UPDATE: You guys are really awesome. Extra cool points for all of you. We are picking up pizza and heading down to hospice shortly. With all of us together, may as well make it a party (of sorts). In case anyone is curious, this is the hospice group we are working with. We've dealt with them 3 times in as many years. You can visit their website at www.odsyhealth.com.

Granddad update

Hospice people are amazing. I sincerely hope and believe there is a special crown these people will receive in heaven. I am blown away by these people. I personally didn't pursue a medical career because I didn't think I had the emotional stamina to handle it if I were to lose a patient. These people lose them all. And they have the added responsibility of dealing with family members. They are there 24/7 for anything and everything that might be needed.
I got to meet a special one on Friday. Her name is Katie Ann and she's a golden retriever. She's a trained therapy dog. She loves everyone and will let everyone love on her. Kids can pull on her ears. People can squeeze her and cry on her and she just loves them back. If I see her again, I may try to get her picture.
We all thought Friday was Granddad's last day with us. We've said our goodbyes and now we are just waiting for the inevitable. I really hope that he can go peacefully and quickly. I trust that if God continues to keep him here, that he has a good reason to do so, but I have to admit that this is hard.
My husband and I did get to have a very nice dinner with my 3 cousins and their spouses. We had never all gone out together before. We laughed at old stories and our twisted humor that it seems we've all inherited. I'm so glad to be rekindling relationships with them.
On Saturday, Granddad's vitals had actually improved. He's still arguing with angels. I hate seeing him suffer this way. I know that he will go home when it is time though and God's time is not my time. It's hard to be at peace with that. It's even harder to see Nana struggle so much. She hasn't left his side. She's an amazing woman. I don't envy her place right now. 57.5 years is a long time to be married. That kind of love is worth the pain.

Personal/Family Update

I actually watched the sunrise on Saturday. It came up about 2 hours after I got up. It's been a long time since I've done that. We had to be up at 4:30 so we could get the kiddo up, fed, and at the school by 5:45. Funny how it's hard to go back to bed after 5 shots of espresso. Once he was off to his chess tournament, we headed back home. I parked on the stationary bike that has yet to find a better home than my front porch and used the handlebars as a make shift tripod and took a couple of pictures. I haven't downloaded them from my camera yet. I'll share them when I do.

Lately, it doesn't feel like I've had any just peaceful moments, but Saturday morning was good for me. I was reminded that no matter what else is going on, the sun keeps rising. New days begin. Anyone that has been reading this knows that I am certainly the cynic, but if its possible to be both a cynic and an optimist, then that's me. I'm feeling a little more like myself and hope to be returning to more entertaining fare. Although, I will likely continue to get personal from time to time. I will be making an attempt to get back to my opinions and commentary about random stuff. No promises that there will not be some bleed through.

Here is today's personal update.

Granddad moved to the hospice facility on Saturday. It seems to be a very nice place and the nursing staff is great. They flirt with him, blow him kisses, and one even offered to marry him and take him home. I talked to him after he got settled in. He told me that he knew the doctors were telling him that he wasn't going to win this one, but that didn't mean he was ready to give up the fight. I told him that I would pray for him to be strong.

He's been taking this opportunity to tell the family some old stories. Some I had heard before, some I hadn't. I'll try to put together what I can. He felt his most important thing to say was not a fun one. He told us that killing someone in war is awful. I can't believe he had been carrying that around for the last 60 years. As I told him, I am so proud and so thankful that he did that. And so sorry that he had to experience it. Real men don't go to war because they want to, they do it because it's their duty. He was one of the lucky ones that performed his duty well and came home from WWII. He wanted to say it because there are so many so-called men that like to brag about how many people they killed in the war. Granddad went to war because his country called him to do so and to be a man. I wish there were more men like Granddad.

Lots of family came down to visit on Sunday so I didn't stay long at hospice. He's was in good spirits even though he was very tired.

Family-update

Went to visit Granddad last night. My son and his 2 year old cousin spent the whole time giggling in the adjacent sitting room. It's been so nice to have the space. Granddad seemed to be feeling kind of peaceful. We asked him if the kids were making too much noise, and he told us that the giggles sounded good to him. Laughter has always been music to Granddad.

My mother wasn't there. Earlier in the day, she slipped on the freshly mopped floor in Granddad's room and fell and broke her wrist. She is heart-broken that she had to go home. She needed to spend a night in her own bed though.

He is able to swallow now. I'm relieved that he can actually have some food instead of just what they can put through an IV. They will be moving him to the hospice facility sometime soon.

My mother asked us to email stories about Granddad to help comfort him and Nana. I will share what I wrote here:

I will never forget summer time when Mandy and I would go and stay with Nana and Granddad. Granddad would see us in our swimsuits ready to play in the sprinkler and say, "Now you boys don't get wet." We'd put our hands on our hips and tell him emphatically that we weren't boys. He'd just smile with that ornery twinkle in his eye. Of course, you would have to have a sense of humor to not only survive living in a house full of Bullington women, but to invite 2 grand-daughters to take over your basement as their 'apartment' as we called it. He had seemingly limitless patience with our coffee table concerts. We would sing into hair brushes or flashlights while standing on the coffee table in the basement.
I remember Granddad's van. The grandkids liked to sit in the very back because when you hit a bump you would float out of your seat. To this day I still think of those as Granddaddy bumps. We would land and giggle and he would laugh with us. I always felt safe and loved when I was with Nana and Granddad.
I was so happy when Granddad retired and they moved to Yukon. As a teenager, I would often escape there when I wanted to feel at home but didn't really want to be around my parents. I liked to sit on the porch swing and talk to Granddad while he filled the bird feeders and cleaned the bird bath. I could talk about anything with them.

I owe much of the person I am today to the time I spent growing up around Nana and Granddad.

It's been so hard to watch his health deteriorate. He's always been one of the strongest people I know. His sense of humor is still there though. I honored to get to hold his hand and offer him some comfort. And I'm glad I inherited enough humor to make him crack a smile.

He's always been a sort of pillar in my life. I'm so glad that his suffering is nearly over, but I wish I didn't have to lose him for that to happen.

Family-Part 2

There have been so many ups and downs with this whole thing. I just don't know how to feel. I'm very upset and either crying or near tears most of the time. I don't want to lose GrandDad, but it would be horribly selfish to want him to keep going in his current condition. I don't even want that in my most selfish inner self. It's so painful to watch him suffer like that. I trust that God is in control and has the absolute best outcome laid out for this. I really do. But I have to say that this emotional roller coaster is torture on all of us. I know that often we have to fall down completely before we can accept that God is picking us up and carrying us through.

I think that old footprints poem that so many people have hung in their homes is missing something. At least in the case of someone as stubborn and hard headed as I am. In mine, there includes marks of limping and crawling and trying claw ahead on my own and then the mark left by my body in a heap before I just let God pick me up and carry me through. Either that, or there is some kind of big stick that he used to knock me out laying on the side of the path. But that's because I'm stubborn and really do think that I can do it most of the time. I'm proven wrong regularly. I'm just too thick headed to get the idea.

God, I give up. I can't do it. Please carry me.

We got the biopsy results today. He has lung cancer. The doctor gave him 2 months to live provided there are no further complications. He said there were no treatment options given his weakened state. He said to give him whatever he wants. If he asks for a hamburger, the instructions are to try and let him eat it.

So I guess that's it. I'm glad we know that he's going home. I'm really going to miss him. I can't put into words how much.

Family

I have to apologize for not making an entry yesterday, but I have a good reason. But I want the 5 of you that read this to know that I really do appreciate you and don't want to slight you any randomness that crosses my mind. I wasn't funny or cynical or especially sarcastic yesterday. I may not be today. For one, I was sick. My stomach was upset and I had major vertigo. Hard to type on moving keys. And I swear, I had not been drinking. I'm a little better today. The world is not spinning so I can deal with the spiny urchin that appears to have taken up residence in my stomach. It's really not that bad, I'm exaggerating for effect. But that really wasn't the biggest reason I didn't make an entry. I could have griped and moaned and acted pathetic so you would feel sorry for me. Although the sympathy is nice, I really don't need it.

Shortly after I got home, my mother called. She was telling me that they are transferring my granddad from one hospital to another for a biopsy. My granddad has been sick for some time now. He had a bad fall Memorial Day weekend and nothing has been right since. He spent the summer going between hospital rooms and a nursing home. We all really thought he was doing better though. Last Friday, he got to go home. The summer's ordeal has left him weak, but he has been going through rehabilitation and could get around to a limited degree. Although nervous, we were all glad to see him get to be home. On Saturday, he was in so much pain that they called the ambulance. In the ER, they discovered that he has three compression fractures in his spine. There is a nifty sounding procedure for that involving a balloon and cement. If it works, it should give him immediate pain relief. In the work-up for that, they found a couple of spots in his liver that they fear could be cancer. The big scary C word. They transferred him to another hospital to do a biopsy. The frightening part about it is that he has grown so weak that just putting him under the anesthesia is a major risk. There is a definite possibility that he will not wake up. They have signed a Do Not Resuscitate order. Everyone is in agreement that it is time. So we spent the afternoon to evening with the rest of my family in the hospital.

Granddad still has his sense of humor. Without that, what do we have left? He made jokes with the doctor and all of us. He can't wear his teeth right now and is hard of hearing, so he is very difficult to understand. He's glad to have all of us around. He may be having hallucinations, but he still has hit wit.

He has a really great doctor. This guy had really done his homework and studied Granddad's records before he arrived. He has phenomenal bedside manner. He welcomed all of us into the hospital room and talked to all of us. He didn't make us go away while he talked to Granddad and asked him all the medical history questions. When he started that, Granddad smarted off to him saying that he had all the records, he didn't need to ask. Said with a smile. The doctor laughed along with us. The doctor said to Granddad, "As long as you are here, you are Dad to me. And I will treat you that way." He also told him that he may be the captain of this ship, but God is the admiral and whatever happens, God is the one running the show. Then he joined hands with all of us and prayed. He signed the form saying that it is a medical necessity for Granddad to have a private room. He let all of us ask questions and talked frankly with us. He told us what he knows and what he does not know. He said that if we needed to talk to him, to leave a note on Granddad's chart. He told us that he would rather give no information than wrong information, so he would call when he was sitting in front of the chart. I was so very impressed. This doctor helped with a lot of stress for all of us. It was very emotional and everyone cried. He asked Granddad that if God were to call him home whether or not Granddad wanted the doctor to try and bring him back. Granddad very clearly said no. We know the time we have left is likely short. It is wonderful that God sent us a doctor that will handle it with such sensitivity, dignity and respect.

I heard from my mother today. They will not be doing the biopsy until tomorrow. The doctor thinks that Granddad may have double pneumonia. Since Granddad has refused a feeding tube, if he's got it, there really isn't anything they can do. We hope the prognosis is better, but that's in God's hands.

It's just not in me to rant about current events or just stream random thoughts. Please bear with me. We will return to our regularly scheduled programming soon.

Update: He can't swallow. Not water or pudding. They are deciding now whether or not to do the back surgery. Realistically, there wouldn't be much point. They probably will not do the biopsy. They are making arrangements with hospice to make him comfortable