Tuesday, June 9, 2009 at 1:08am
dancingsinging wrote:
Jul. 9th, 2009 09:09 pm
You are such a beautiful person, and so diligently and courageously living your mission as a Boddhisattva. I admire you so much!
I used to think of caring for your mom as this big drag for you that was taking you away from your real life. But I get it now--this is the way you are expressing who you are and what matters to you. You aren't trapped; you're free!
Your mother is so lucky to have a daughter like you. I'm going to chant for you guys tonight!!
XOXO
vanmedi wrote:
Aug. 15th, 2009 09:46 pm
I love you Eva! I am so grateful to have had such a wonderful friend like you for all these years. It's really a testement to us as living, growing, human beings. I think it's wonderful that as we progress and mature into more full versions of ourselves, that all throught this process, we have continued to reconnect and keep our friendship not just alive, but growing in a dynamic way which reflects our own personal growth. Once again...I love you. :-) XOXOXO
It is about a month and a half later, and we are finally making progress toward admission into a care facility for physical therapy. I got the call today. It's so funny how slowly things move, but when they finally begin to move it's suddenly "Go! Go! Rush! Rush!" I was told that "they want her there today...or we may loose our opportunity" -BAH! I was finally sitting down to eat my lunch when I got the call. I have such a comical life. My steak taco with guac called to me...and yet I had to answer the call of my higher conscious...and the call from that guy at Kaiser. So...Lunch aside...I ventured off to check out this place that was *not* the one that we had requested. I did not automatically just take her down there. I insisted that I take a tour and got to speak to the people in charge at the facility first. While I was waiting for the woman who runs the facility to emerge from her office, I had the chance to sit back and take in the place. I chatted up a nice lady who was sitting nearby. She lived there. And she really liked it. The people were nice and the atmosphere was good she said. And from my tour, I would agree. The rehab equipment looked really new and really good. I felt comfortable entrusting them with my mothers care. -As comfortable as I can be. Today was a very stressful day for me. I love my mom so much. She is my most treasured person. I feel such a deep bond with her. And her care is entirely my responsibility. I need to know that the people that watch her and help her learn to walk again are going to see the greatness in her. Are going to treat her with respect, and dignity. Are going to have joy in their lives that they share with those around them. And are going to be kind and nurturing towards her. I felt like I was facing the unknown. It was a precipice and I didn't really know what was on the other side. I still don't. But there is only one way to go now -forward. We are finally getting our chance to do what I kept insisting could be done. And now we've got to prove ourselves. It took this long because they initially said that my mothers case was very bad and that there was nothing that could be done. That it was only going to get worse. But I insisted that they were wrong. I knew that she could improve. I wanted her to get physical therapy so that she could walk again. And now she's going. And I'm so scared. What if they were right? What if this doesn't work? What if she hurts herself trying? Or is scared? She will be. It will be a place that is so different from home, which is the only place she really knows anymore. There are days when I ask her what her name is, and she doesn't know. But even then, she knows who *I* am. Haha. She knows that I am her daughter and that she loves me. And that I love her. That is something that she always knows. (Well..not always...but mostly always...) And now we're going forward...and I'm nervous. I need to shake that off. Today I found myself crying. And what for? This is all good news. We have fought for this chance and won! The squeaky wheel really does get the grease. It would have come sooner if Kaiser wasn't this big behemoth where the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing. The woman in charge there was surprised at how young my mother was and at how quickly her disease had progressed from her initial diagnosis. Apparently she hadn't seen someone like my mom. I am used to that by now. Lately I have been feeling the pressure more from my moms disease. I feel the pressure of time going too quickly. She keeps having these sudden acute pains, where she thinks that something has bitten her. But there is nothing there. She has not been bitten. It is something that is happening in her brain. She also asked about a woman. She looked up at a space behind her and asked if "she was coming with us?" "Do you see somebody there?" I asked. She saw a woman. She didn't know who she was. I asked her what she was seeing...I asked her if she saw the wall and then I touched it. "I'm sure there's a wall there...somewhere..." It didn't seem as if she could really see it then though. These are new things that are happening to her. And it worries me. "Where am I? What should I do?" are frequent questions for her. I usually tell her where she is...and when she asks me "What do I do?" I tell her things like "Sit there and look gorgeous! It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it!"...or I say..."Be completely and truly loved." -She really likes that one. She usually laughs at the gorgeous one...But when I say be loved, she usually smiles and it's like you can tell by her expression that at that moment, she really feels it. She closes her eyes and beams this big broad smile, and then says "I love you". And I say "I love you" back. If people really wanted to know the gist of what we talk about...that's usually it. It's some form of "I love you." -Everyday. Tomorrow, I take her in. In the morning, we will get up and go out to a good breakfast at Mac's Kosher Deli. I'll have the corned beef hash, and she'll have some coffee, and probably smell it and say how much she loves the smell of coffee...almost more than drinking it. And then I will take her to the rehab facility for physical therapy. I hope it goes well. I really love her. I have to find my courage and determination sometime tonight while I sleep. I hope it falls into my body like osmosis. I will unconsciously absorb the qualities of bravery, focus, and unshakable determination. All while sleeping on flannel sheets. :-)
dancingsinging wrote:
Jul. 9th, 2009 09:09 pm
You are such a beautiful person, and so diligently and courageously living your mission as a Boddhisattva. I admire you so much!
I used to think of caring for your mom as this big drag for you that was taking you away from your real life. But I get it now--this is the way you are expressing who you are and what matters to you. You aren't trapped; you're free!
Your mother is so lucky to have a daughter like you. I'm going to chant for you guys tonight!!
XOXO
vanmedi wrote:
Aug. 15th, 2009 09:46 pm
I love you Eva! I am so grateful to have had such a wonderful friend like you for all these years. It's really a testement to us as living, growing, human beings. I think it's wonderful that as we progress and mature into more full versions of ourselves, that all throught this process, we have continued to reconnect and keep our friendship not just alive, but growing in a dynamic way which reflects our own personal growth. Once again...I love you. :-) XOXOXO
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