wow

I just read something.

"It never occurred to me that I can examine the past and accept that my childhood was not normal without being vindictive or resentful toward my Mom and Dad. They screwed up a lot; so do I. It doesn't make me love them any less fiercely than I do and it doesn't make me think for one second that they were bad parents."

I wouldn't say that my parents screwed up a lot, but SOMETHING SOMEWHERE caused this constant, unrelenting depression that NOTHING has been able to relieve.

Maybe life can be a happy experience?

Happy Thanksgiving

We are doing the last few loads of laundry, getting things together for our trip to the gulf shore. My sister lives in Orange Beach. My brother, who lives in San Diego, flew in with his family last weekend. My parents went down ?last weekend - I can't keep up with them half the time? taking their truck and 5th wheel. Thanksgiving on the beach! This will be the first time the three siblings (me, my brother and sister), our families and our parents have been under one roof in 4 - 5 - 6 years? I am really excited about it. And I am really glad it isn't my house.

Actually my family (wife, kids - not brother, sister) have made a tradition of going to the beach over Thanksgiving. We usually leave from wherever we are having Thanksgiving dinner at and head down Thursday evening. It takes about 5 hours to get there, so we get 2 and half days to wander around. It is lovely. No people, no crowded roads, no 100 degree heat, and even though half of the restaurants are closed there are enough open to get some good food. It is quiet and peaceful - no sounds except the surf all day and all night (and the hotels rooms are at off-off-season rates). I have become convinced that anyone who goes to the beach during the summer is a loony. Don't get me wrong, I know from summer at the beach. We lived on a Mediterranean island for two years and the summer/tourist season and I are well acquainted. I don't miss it. Well, okay - maybe just a little. I used to be a sun-worshipper in my youth. I have matured.

So, Lucky is off to the kennel, the cats have clean (and extra) litter boxes and extra food/water (with a check-in from neighbors) and we are almost packed. My son has to work until just after midnight, so we are off tomorrow morning at 6:00 AM (just like any other work day!)

I wish anyone who reads this, and everyone else who doesn't, a very Happy Thanksgiving.

Love and ?hate?

I read a post this morning (here) that started me thinking. The post is about how the writer's parents behave towards each other and how she delt with it. In the comments someone mentioned their in-laws and the writer replied that in-law behaviour was up to the spouse to confront. That isn't always the case - or at least it wasn't in my case.

I can't say that my relationship with my parents has always been great. I started having problems with my dad early on - my parents had me start therapy when I was 11-12 and I wound up spending a year living with my grandparents. I know now, as a parent, how much that had to hurt them. My problems with depression stem from the relationship I had with my dad as I grew up. But - I digress. I have a great relationship with both of my parents now and this isn't about them. This is about my mother-in-law.

My wife has had a troubled relationship with her mom since.... well, all of her life. The stories I heard about MIL were bizarre - and troubling. They were such that when the kids were born and decisions were being made about where to live, we always decided it was better to be close to my parents rather than my wife's. Living apart made their relationship manageble but there were several instances where I had to step in and mediate - sometimes rather forcefully. I had resigned myself to this state of affairs and that it would remain so. But it didn't.

About 6 or 7 years ago MIL went through what we know now were a series of strokes. At the time, no one could figure out what was wrong with her. They were gradually physically debilitating and she wound up in a wheelchair. But the biggest change wasn't physical, it was emotional. All of the hatefulness was gone. She was loving and lovable. Although the past couldn't be forgotten, it could now be relegated to the past without fears of more of it in the future.

This past March she went through another series of strokes and heart problems. She was brought home under hospice care. No one could say how long she had, but no one gave her long. MIL could not move herself nor speak. She responded to yes or no questions with blinks. She's in there, hanging on, not ready to go. My wife took FMLA leave and spent 10 weeks caring for her mother 24 hours a day. Bathing her, turning her every 2 hours, changing her diapers, giving her her meds, reading to her. My wife made the hard decision to come home for mostly financial reasons, but knowing she was stable and needing to have a few weeks of FMLA left of leave for the end. That was in May. We went up in August, spending a week. This past weekend we heard that she's had a series of problems that makes everyone think that her time is coming. We expect the call at any time.

I look at my relationship with my parents and I see how I have been gifted. My wife didn't receive that gift until just a few years ago. When I think of it, it is my gift too. I've known MIL for almost 22 years. I had been seriously thinking for the last few years about trying to find a job closer so we could spend more time with her. What happened in March made it too late. And even though I've had since March, I'm not ready for the gift to be taken away yet. I guess it really can't be, the experience of the last 6 years cannot be un-experienced. The memory of the last 6 years will always be the clearest, even given the rose-tinted glasses of time. If nothing else, I have learned that despite how poorly we can be treated by those closest to us there can be love there. What was tolerance in the past is love now. I love you, MIL. I wish you peace.