Friday, May 22, 2009

{Sur}Reality, An Earthquake And A Little Horny Dog

As some of you may know, my Mother~In~Law died this past Friday morning. It was expected and unexpected at the same time. In the last couple of years, her diabetes started to take it's toll on her and shut down her kidneys. She has been on dialysis, in one form or another, for the last couple of years while going through experimental drug therapies to rid her body of Hepatitis C so that she could go on the kidney donor list, as a kidney transplant was the only thing that would prolong her life; Dialysis is only meant for a short term "stop gap". The body can't endure that treatment indefinitely. I am convinced that the experimental treatments/clinical therapies hastened her downward spiral. They left her nearly zombified. It was horrible.

From what I understand, my MIL fell out of bed, as she has been prone to do lately, around midnight Friday morning, my FIL picked her up, asked if she was alright, checked her over a bit and then they both went back to bed. When he woke up around 10:30 am, he found that she had passed away. The coroner approximated her time of death as 2:30 am. I cannot imagine how it must feel to wake up and find your dead spouse in bed next to you, even if they were extremely ill. It just gives me the Heebie~Geebies.

My Husband is understandably devastated, and, in a way I am , too. It's no secret that my MIL was not my favorite person. She did some pretty rotten things to me while she was alive and made my Husband feel caught in the middle. Not a good thing for her relationship with her son or my marriage. Husbands and wives should not fight about what the In~Laws did to them. Nor should a spouse feel as if the other spouse is taking the In~Law's side rather than standing up for them. It never turns out well. Never. But I digress....

I am grieving for my Husband more than for my MIL. I am sorry if this sounds harsh, it's not meant to be. I am sorry that my MIL had to suffer the way she did; it truly was awful. I never wanted her to die, I only wanted her to stop her crap heaving. No, what I am feeling now is sorrow for my Husband and the pain he is going through, a pain I know all too well. When your parent dies, it's like having a sucking, bleeding black hole ripped into your soul. Sometimes you find it nearly impossible to breathe. Other times, it feels as if everything you see or hear reminds you of your parent and you just can't get away from it or keep from crying at the drop of a hat. It sucks. I've been there.

I also know the guilt of regret. All the "would have, should have, could have's" and the "why didn't I's". We beat ourselves up over everything we didn't or should have or could have done. All of the variables run through our brains. Then we kick ourselves when we are down by coming up with new and torturous "Why didn't I's". Isn't the human grieving process fun? There are people in this world and in our lives whom we can never please, no matter what we do. But the worst of them is ourselves. I go through my own struggles with me, myself and I. My question is why do we do it?

Needless to say, this event brought me right back to the day my Daddy died. I remember watching him take his last breath. I remember crying the ugly cry. But what I remember most is feeling like I was watching myself experience all this, as if I was viewing a film of someone else's life who happens to look just like me. I had many odd instances of dejavu for things that had not happened before then. I remember feeling like I was in slow motion and yet I couldn't sit still for long. I always had to be doing something or going somewhere, anywhere, doing anything else except realizing that my beloved Daddy was gone forever. It was surreal and the events of this past Friday brought me back hard to that strange place where you feel as if your are moving through thick water. The place where everything you see has some kind of odd glass covering it and everything you hear sounds like it is coming from a deep, underwater cave. Surreality is what I suspect a bad acid trip that you never come down from is like and I really don't want to take that trip again.

So I repeat what I have said since I was a teenager: Reality: They do it with mirrors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

About the earthquake...Sunday night, I went to the Target by my In~Laws' house and of course, my Mother had to tag along {Without asking...she just got in my car and proceeded to bitchmoangroan about everything}. I went because I needed to get The Diva some Pull~Ups {they are actually Easy~Ups by Pampers, but Pull~Ups just rolls off the tongue better} and I also wanted to look at dresses for her and I to wear to the funeral {We were given a directive to not wear anything purple, lavender or black to the funeral. Umm, that's pretty much all I & The Diva own, so I took this as a slam towards me. Even from the grave, my MIL is trying to make digs at me!}.

About 8:30 pm, we were upstairs in the girls' department when an earthquake hit. It was a good one. It was loud, rumbly and rockin' and rollin'. My Mother was standing against a wall that was covered in displays. She started doing her Daffy Duck imitation..."OH MY GOD!! IS THAT AN EARTHQUAKE? OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!...." I had to yell at her to get over to where I was so she wouldn't get impaled by a clothing rack. It was hilarious! Then, after the earthquake was over, she says "We just had an earthquake, can we go now?" I replied "No, I still have some shopping to do. Besides, it's California. We have earthquakes here all the time, remember?" She was nonplussed. I was highly amused.

I did think, right when the earthquake hit, "Oh, Josie must have finally walked into Heaven and boy are those Nuns pissed!" LOL She had a love/hate relationship with the Catholic Church. And Priests. And Nuns. When she was in the hospital last year, the Catholic Chaplain/Priest came to visit her one day to see if she wanted to pray or talk or give her confession or whatever. She told him to get out because she wasn't dead yet and wasn't planning to be any time soon. She also flipped him off as he was leaving her room. I may not have gotten along with my MIL all that well, but she did do everything on her terms, good, bad or indifferent. I am very sad that she died.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little horny dog...About a month ago, my FIL got this little inbred terrier mutt mix that was supposed to be for his eldest granddaughter. It has ended up staying with my FIL, for whatever reason. This dog, named Caine, is a spastic, Mexican jumping bean of a furball. He jumps from place to place and has a thing about sitting on your chest. The Diva is just in love with this puppy. Apparently this puppy is in love with my Husband as well, as he has decided {The puppy, I mean} that my Husband is his special friend.

My Husband was laying on the floor when Caine decided that his bicep was a good place to start humpin'. No joke. When my Husband shoved him off, freaky little Caine just found his other bicep and tried to get his freak on all over again. Thank God The Diva didn't realize what was really happening. Wouldn't that have been a fun thing to try to explain to a 4 year old!?!?

Of course, I, being the smart~ass that I am, announced "Yeah, leave it to my FIL to pick out a gay dog!" {And don't start thinking I am some homophobic bigoted hater because I said that, I am not. It was joke from South Park, so don't all go getting your knickers in a twist, K?} My Husband asked me to refer to Caine as "The Horny Little Dog" instead of "The Gay Furball", so I am complying...for now. I will, however, refer to that damn dog as "Chicken Killer" no matter what anyone says, because he did, in fact, kill two baby chickens that my FIL had just gotten two weeks ago. And they were the pretty kind, too. Not your average, run of the mill chickens, but the Martha Stewart kind that lay green speckled eggs. Damn dog!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here is a mini "Things The Diva Said" for your amusement:

Friday night, we were all sitting in the living room at my FIL's house. The Diva was sitting on the floor, coloring and my Mother was sitting on the couch next to her. Well, Mom has never had any sense of anyone's personal boundaries/space, so she was reaching out every two seconds and touching The Diva's hair, arm...whatever.

Then The Diva says, "Crazy YaYa, you're scaring me. Like you did before, last day." Yep, she finally called my Mom Crazy YaYa...OH HOLY HELL!! I am never going to live this one down.

Then Sunday night, The Diva said, "You need to stop touching me. You're scaring me. Like I told you before. Last day. Remember? Mommy said she would protect me." That's my girl!

I am so getting 10 kinds of hell from my Mother for those comments The Diva made. I wish I had it on video. *evil laugh*

~~~~~~~~~~~~




5 comments:

Queenie Jeannie said...

Wow, that's alot of stuff all in one post!

I know today will be hard, but good luck to you all. My heart is with your husband!!!

(Sorry I didn't call you back yesterday. I got company and then The Bella was screaming non-stop till 7pm....when she finally pooped after holding it in for three freakin' days! Yesterday was a really tough day!!!!)

LadyStyx said...

*HUGZ* Got winded just reading that all. Alot going on.

Vickie said...

I am sorry your MIL passed. I am also sorry you two had a rocky relationship.

Your earthquake story was hilarious! Hey..another day another eathquake...funny:)

ChicagoLady said...

You have an upstairs at your Target??? I've never seen a two-story Target.

My condolences on your MIL passing, but she is no longer in pain, so you grieving more for your husband is appropriate.

"Crazy YaYa" that's priceless!

TattooedMinivanMom said...

Sounds like you've had a pretty draining week.

I'm sorry to hear that your husband lost his mother :(

I had no idea we had an earthquake last week. Slept right through it. Course, I had a migraine and was on meds.....

 

Those Damn Voices Again.... | © 2008~2009 Last Shreds Of Sanity™ ~ Baby Roca's Mama™ ~ All Rights Reserved |