This is all I've done today and although that is a lot of fruitcake, it should not be an all-day event to make it.
It's been a hard day. A crying day. A day where I've felt useless and ugly, small of spirit and of soul. I have been highly emotional today. I have cried at good news, I have cried at old memories, I have cried at bad news, I have cried just because my eyes filled with tears. And then Mr. Moon called from the road. He told me last night that he was coming home tonight instead of tomorrow night. But today, when he called, he was so upset.
Oh god. It's a long story but it involves our friend Tom of whom I've spoken many times. He was our partner on Dog Island but I've known him for far longer than I've known Glen. And he and Glen have bonded over the years, helping each other out with tools and cars and manly things like that and they have been going to FSU basketball games together for decades.
The last few years have been very hard for Tom. He's had a form of cancer, he's had strokes. His mobility and abilities have been severely limited but he is as stubborn as the day is long and has refused to go into any sort of assisted care, and in fact, has recently ignored small strokes, deciding to only take an aspirin and get on with whatever he was doing.
Tom is not like other people in many ways. He has been a loner for most of his life, living in the woods, and he does not have a lot of friends. Glen has been a wonderful friend to him and has helped him in so many ways during all these troubles. Ross was one of his best friends. Tom adored Ross and Ross loved Tom, too. When Ross died almost a year ago, Tom took it hard. Hard.
But he went on. Despite his problems, he continued to do what he could and that included tending his garden, going to a gym, doing his own shopping. He still took care of his younger brother who lives in St. Augustine who has severe disabilities himself that he was born with. Tom has always made sure that his brother had a place to live, people around to take care of him and he was recently put in hospice care himself.
What I'm saying is that Tom is stubborn and tough and he's had a hard row and that he's faced insurmountable difficulties with sheer determination.
And what Glen was upset about was that Tom was in the hospital and that they had called him because he's Tom's health surrogate, and as he was talking to the nurse about Tom's history, he did not realize that he was on speaker phone and said something that upset Tom very much who grabbed the phone, cussed at him, and hung up.
Both Glen and I understand this. Tom is incredibly resentful that he needs help of any kind. Hell- he DROVE HIMSELF to the hospital this morning and neither of us can figure out how he did that. He'd probably had another stroke. And he was angry at the situation. Angry that he is in this place. I think he is probably angry that he's still alive. He made it quite clear to the hospital staff that he is DNR.
But Glen felt so bad. He would have never in a million years done anything to hurt his friend, no matter how irrational he might be, how stubborn he might be. And Tom wouldn't answer his phone.
Glen called another friend who lives near the hospital and he went to see what was happening. He reported that Tom's not really able to communicate verbally at this point and that he seems very angry in general. Which we knew. Beyond that, he found out nothing.
And here's the thing- I should have left this house and gone to the hospital myself to see Tom, to try and ease the anger towards Glen, to be there for him.
And I could not make myself go.
Listen- I have been with people when they died. I am not afraid of that. Death does not frighten me. Dying does not frighten me. But the idea of going to the hospital to see him seemed impossible and I think that it is more of a situation of me being so damn loathe to leave this house to go and deal with a difficult situation which is not in one of my "safe spots" than it is of anything else.
Which is nothing but selfish.
So all day long I've been beating myself up for not doing the right thing. And once I got those fruitcakes in the oven- well, I just couldn't leave, could I? It takes hours for them to bake.
Ironically, I was joking with Rachel yesterday about how I used to take on such difficult tasks. This was back in the day when I had four kids at home.
It was like- "Been gunshot? Come stay with me! I'll take care of you! Wound care is my specialty!"
"Got cancer? Hey- here's a bed just for you! I will tend you and feed you and love you and take you to appointments. I will do whatever I can."
"What? You're a teenager and you say your parents kicked you out? Well, what's one more mouth to feed? Come stay with us."
"You just had surgery and need a place to recover because your husband is a violent jerk? Well, the guest room is ready for you!"
I did these things. And I worked part time. And I volunteered at my kids' schools. And I took care of my family and I put a good supper on the table every night and I made sure the kids got to lessons and I did the laundry and cleaned the house and had friends and did my best to be a good wife. I fed legions of people on Thanksgivings. Tom himself dined at my Thanksgiving table since the years before I married Glen.
And now I can't even go to the hospital to be with one of my oldest friends when he so needs a friend. When I know that my husband would have liked me to do that because he was on the road and could not do it himself.
It's like I've used myself up. Is that possible? I don't think Rosalyn Carter ever whined about using herself up. She and her husband kept giving and doing for others until they physically could not do it anymore.
It's not cold this evening, or even very chilly. I have a light sweater on, but my feet are bare and plenty warm. It's raining. Glen should be getting to Tallahassee pretty soon and has to drop off those boats and then he's going to go to the hospital and see if they'll let him go up to Tom's room.
He is a very good man.
But hey! I made the fruitcakes! I did the laundry! I changed the sheets! I worked on my jigsaw puzzle.
I am not proud of myself. Not one fucking tiny bit.
That’s a tough situation. Give yourself grace. And hugs to you.
ReplyDeleteGrace is something I've been thinking about a lot. Acting with it, seeing it in others, accepting it when it comes.
DeleteI can certainly understand that this moment in time the well was empty. A thousand other times you were able to draw what you needed, but this time it wasn't there. Don't be so hard on yourself.
ReplyDeleteThe well was indeed empty. Is still. I worry sometimes that it will never refill.
DeleteBoy, this is a loaded post in so many ways. Please don't flog yourself, but I know you are....you just COULD. NOT. DO. TODAY....... for many reasons, no doubt. But..... Mr Moon will be there when he comes back tonight......and that is probably how it should be.........my heart breaks for Tom, and for you even more (if that makes sense).........keep crying, because that does help......... and keep loving Tom......and that is enough, and keep loving yourself....... you are a remarkable woman, and that is more than enough.
ReplyDeleteLove and hugs to you, you are in my heart
Susan M
I will take those hugs. Thank you, Susan.
DeleteOh Mary. Do not berate yourself so. Tom is dying. He is angry. Glen was someone tangible he could direct that anger at. You are not Rosalynn Carter and you do not know how many times she may have hidden in her safe place. If you push yourself too hard you will fall and be no use to anyone.
ReplyDeleteStop wasting energy on beating yourself up. Spend it on healing, baking fruit cakes and loving those who love you. And if you can get to see Tom, great. If not, you are not the only one who can visit him. It is not your responsibility.
Be gentle with yourself, dear lady, and treat yourself with the kindness you treat everyone else.
I wish I could give you a big hug.
Thank you, Ms. Merlot. I am definitely NOT Rosalyn Carter. I do not have a thousandth of the grace she carried with her always.
DeleteAnd you know what? I hope she DID have a safe place.
Berating myself is what I do best. Unfortunately.
I firmly believe we can become used up in that way you describe, because I feel the same way myself this year. Learning of the childhood trauma that my sister endured and which she thought I knew about at the time (heartbreaking) I spent the summer months trying to digest this new knowledge and it's echoing trauma (that's what it feels like) and all the feelings... And I've simply run out. Like that was the last straw. Run out of fucks to give, or sympathy or empathy or I don't know what. It's family, of course, and mine is tiny and doesn't include many chosen famiy like yours does. I've been the good daughter. the good mom, the good friend, the good wife, all these years and now I think I may very well be done, permanently. I hope not, I think... But I know I will not be going back to that same self. I just hope I can come to a new place that is more comfortable for me now. I hope this for you too, Mary.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful comment and I understand it to my toes. First off- let me say that the fact that you were able to accept what your sister told you as truth is the greatest thing you could have done for her. In many cases, siblings simply cannot accept the truth of what happened in their family. It would shatter them.
DeleteAnd yes, here we are after a lifetime of just being the damn good girl and I understand your feeling of how this just doesn't fit anymore. It doesn't work, it isn't you.
I feel the same.
Fix the martinis for the two of you ... it would seem you both could use a good stiff drink!
ReplyDeleteWe all reach "empty" at times ... stop beating yourself up! Go see Tom when you can or go with Glen if you can't do it on your own!
Yes. There were martinis for both of us.
DeleteIt's not only possible to be all used up, sometimes it's probable. You don't have to be all things to all people all the time. Tom is your old friend, but in the current situation, the torch has passed to Glenn. And for shame the nurse did not announce at the beginning they were on speaker phone. So go to bed and cry yourself to sleep, as you will, and get up tomorrow and it will be behind you. And PS, Tom sounds remarkably like my brother, Walt. I could sit with him in the porch swing for hours in comfortable silence, but only visited him twice in rehab. I knew and he knew he was not cooperating in recovery. I couldn't be part of that, but I also couldn't shake him by the lapels and tell him to put some effort into recovery. His son went every day.
ReplyDeleteGlen was so mad at the nurse for that- she absolutely should have let him know that Tom could hear what was being said by him.
DeleteAnd yes, although my relationship with Tom has been longer than Glen's relationship with him, his has been far more active. I doubt I would have stayed in touch with him all these years if he was not part of Glen's life.
I am sorry that your brother Walt was like that but- he was who he was and you were so very wise not to try and change him.
You know, It may well be the wrong time to visit Tom. If he is angry and lashing out, there may be nothing you can do to help. Not now. Let it simmer down. Ps: I would be pretty upset at the hospital. I thought you had to be notified when you are on speakerphone.
ReplyDeleteI thought you had to be notified too. It may have been Tom's phone they were talking on and trust me- he has no idea how to put it on speaker phone or take it off. So that may have been the issue there.
DeletePlease be kind to yourself. We all get used up at some point. I feel I've been used up many times and life goes on. You're a good person, Mary Moon, and have done good and wonderful things for many, many people. You must take care of yourself first and perhaps that's exactly what you were doing today when you did not go to the hospital. Guilt can be an evil cancer that eats away at us. See Tom when you can...or not if you can't. We can't always make the world right. I know...I've tried. Bless you.
ReplyDeleteParanormal John
I had a teacher once who often said, "Guilt serves no purpose," and I have pondered that for forty years. Somehow it has always been my default emotion. Guilt and shame.
DeleteNo. We can't always make the world right. In fact, almost never. If only we had that much power!
Thank you.
Oh how I understand this. It is sometimes easier to do difficult things when life is chaotic (so much of my first marriage and then those tumultous years as a single mother involved taking on every last cause/person/sick animal/extra teaching assignments/part time jobs/etc) maybe because then I had trained myself simply to do, simply to not feel, simply to live in an overwhelmed state. As everyone has said, please don't beat yourself up. I understand this feeling so much and being human is so hard.
ReplyDeleteI think there is an element of co-dependance in that sort of behavior. Don't you? It's so much easier to save the world than to save ourselves. To have to stop and face the reality of our own existence. Being human is so very hard.
DeleteI so agree with what everyone has said so far. Hoping for the best all around. Much love.
ReplyDeleteXoxo
Barbara
Thank you, Barbara.
DeleteDear Mary - all I have to offer is big hugs to you, to Glen, and (surreptitiously) to Tom.
ReplyDeleteChris from Boise
Hugs are the best.
DeleteI am not sure what to say here. It's possible you may have gone to the hospital and Tom would have refused to see you, but you would have felt better fro making the effort. But that's an unknown possibility. And I also understand that as we age our comfort zones shrink and getting out of them is really hard. Whenever I make myself go somewhere it takes so much out of me I fall asleep during the day for weeks afterward.
ReplyDeleteI hope Tom agrees to see Glen.
I wonder why some of us become like this as we get older? Less and less apt to step out of our safe spaces. It is incredibly difficult to do and yes, exhausting.
DeleteMen can be so stubborn (I know my dad was) and I'm sure Tom is more than "embarrassed at his weakness", so I'd guess that's why he's mad at Mr. Moon. And in all honesty, he may not want visitors right now to see him in such a state. I used to get so much done too, always running in fifth gear, and yesterday all I did pretty much was peel a bunch of vegetables and make soup! Don't be so hard on yourself!
ReplyDelete"Always running in fifth gear." I remember those days. Exactly. It's so tricky, figuring out if we are finally just taking it easy or giving up. I do not know.
DeleteI understand how you feel. For around 10 years I had to help and support my Mother when she was in her 90s and an hour and half drive away...so many things I had to sort out over that period. After she died I got involved with a neighbour who was in her 80s. It started with walking her little dog, and eventually the dog was living with us ,went to J in the daytime for a few hours and because I was visiting twice a day with the dog I got very involved when anything went wrong with the carers, the house etc.Several times I sat with her for hours waiting for an ambulance into the night. After J died, we discovered that a local acquaintance, mother of one of my son's schoolfriends, had got early dementia. My husband wanted to invite them out for a drink, but I said no, because I just knew I would get involved again, and I had had enough!!
ReplyDeleteOh my god, Frances! NOOOOOOOOO.
DeleteIt's like some people just have a tattoo on their foreheads that say, "I will take care of you!" (And your little dog Toto too?) The only way to deactivate that tattoo's message is to say the word, "No." Which can be hard to do but my god- let someone else take on the world once in awhile.
I know it's easy for me to say, but don't beat yourself up about this. You have to look out for you. You know your needs and limitations, and you ARE looking out for others in the ways that you can, with your fruitcakes and grand-parental (is that a word?) generosity. When Glen gets home (maybe he's already there?) he can iron out this situation with Tom, who is angry at the world more than at Glen, I'm sure.
ReplyDeleteThe situation has been ironed out, Steve. As well as can be. Thank you.
DeleteI’m 67 years old, and for the last six months I’ve felt a bit like you. Well, I can’t make a fruit cake and I can’t work in the garden, but sometimes my anxiety is like a heavy sweater. I’ve become used to it and sometimes just sink in and let it cocoon me. The angst, anxiety, and just plain inability to be what I need to be is almost palpable. Having (several) good cries is helpful to a point, but the disappointment in myself is sometimes painful. All I can say is do what you can. People who love you appreciate you AS YOU ARE, and oh, yeah….we are our own worst critics. Hugs to you!!
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry you are experiencing such anxiety. I call anxiety and depression the two evil twins because they do so often present together.
DeleteYes. Disappointment in ourselves is very painful. And then the guilt that accompanies that. Ugh.
Hugs back to you, Catrina.
Give yourself grace. You are truly one of the kindest people I follow here online. I think sometimes we just know our limits, and that is that. Most of us have known people like Tom, and at that stage the frustration is just hard and sad. This was true for my mom. (She died a year ago yesterday; had a stroke. ♥) And I agree w/all others: I would give that hospital hell for the speakerphone mess, if only so this doesn't happen to someone else.
ReplyDeleteYeah. Tom won't let us do a great deal for him. He does allow Glen to take care of some matters for him.
DeleteThe speakerphone thing may have been due to it possibly having been Tom's phone which the nurse may not even have known was on speaker. I do not know.
I am so sorry to hear about your mother. Was the anniversary of her death hard? I know that anniversaries can be brutal.
Have you considered that anger and lashing out is in fact not a response to Glen but a stroke symptom? It's very likely. I've been there three times for people who've turned on me after a stroke. It's not really about you and Glen, or anything you did or didn't. Try not to take it on as guilt, if possible, easier said than done, I know.
ReplyDeleteYou know, I thought about that. I know how labile people's emotions can be after a stroke and Tom has had a few now. And honestly, if he is angry, he has every right to be. Not to be angry with Glen, but with the whole sad situation.
DeleteThings have a way of working out, Mary. Tom might need to be angry right now. Go easy on yourself.
ReplyDeleteI think he does. The anger gives him strength.
DeleteI wish I could say something to make everything better. Easy for me to say, but, be kind to yourself. You are obviously a kind and loving person. You can't expect yourself to be the caregiver of the world. You can't be good for anyone else if you don't listen to your own needs, as well.
ReplyDeleteI have long ago given up trying to caretake the world. If I can care for my own family these days, that is plenty for me.
DeleteBut...damn guilt.
Oh honey. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteThank you, darling.
DeleteHere's the thing to remember, dear Mary. In every moment we are doing the best we can, and it is probably entirely right that Glen address this with Tom directly, rather than through an intermediary. If you could have gone, you absolutely would have. The fact that you didn't tells you everything you need to know--that you needed to stay put and bake those cakes, and yes, to cry. Be gentle with yourself now. Glen's got Tom. And you've got him.
ReplyDeleteYou said the perfect thing. No wonder you are a writer. Thank you, sweet woman. Thank you.
DeleteYou wrote this post on December 1st but now it's December 2nd. Perhaps you have now gone to see Tom - maybe with Glen. We cannot avoid being who we are and how we feel so I am not the one to criticise you. However, it sounds as though Tom could do with the presence of a good woman, a wise comforter, someone he has known for forty years
ReplyDeleteFifty years. Almost.
DeleteGlen has been to see him. I have not. In many ways I have stepped back from Tom for quite awhile now. As I said in another comment, I think we probably would have lost touch years ago if he and Glen were not so active in each other's lives.
well, fuck, Mary. you are essentially the same person, open and loving and doing what you can to help others but what you can do is not the same as what you could do. and you are also someone who you need to take care of. you are what my sister and I called being a 'fixer'. she and I are/were both fixers. women are raised primarily to be fixers I think. eventually we learn that we cannot fix everything or everybody and eventually we stop trying. or rather we determine if the thing can be fixed and if it's in our power to help. this thing with Tom is not in your power to fix and so you did the right thing by taking care of yourself. I hope that Glen and Tom smooth over Tom's anger which wasn't really directed at Glen but at himself and his feeling of helplessness. and I hope that if Tom's damaged brain is stuck that Glen will not carry any guilt especially if grief is on the doorstep.
ReplyDeleteYou are wise, Ellen. And yes, we women are often the fixers, the tenders, the nurturers. Some of us do have that in our nature but it is certainly reinforced throughout our lives. And then yes- we realize that we can''t really fix anyone. We can tend them and we can nurture them but in so many cases, it is all for naught.
DeleteThank you for reminding me.
mary moon you have to put on your own oxygen mask first. also, you may be able to visit but unless you are on his HIPPA paperwork as someone they can share medical info with, you would be just as much in the dark while being there which i think would be even harder. i love you and understand completely. xxalainaxx
ReplyDeleteYou're right although if I did go see him, it would mostly be just for representation, you know? Since Glen is his health-care surrogate I can learn what is important from him although I do not think he's talked to the doctor about this.
DeleteI love you too, woman.
I am so sorry...please do not be so hard on yourself.
ReplyDelete