Yesterday we had a birthday party for Miss Katie. This photo pretty much sums up her day. She had a wonderful time. There were two babies, she held both, a dog, potato chips, old friends and a birthday cake. As you can see by the look on her face, she loved it. She actually vibrates when she's excited. The dog was pretty excited too, hopeful that some cake might fall.
My grandson sleeping, blissfully unaware of any undercurrents that his very existence has stirred up. He's a sweet little baby, easygoing, often hungry and learning to interact with everyone, smiling and making noises.
My son says he's sober, except he's smoking weed. Yesterday morning his hands were shaking when he was here but no smell of liquor. He tells me he's not lying, but is that a lie? He gets angry/irritated because he is not believed but those are the consequences of a lifetime spent lying. He looks like shit.
When I went to pick up my grandson yesterday morning from his mama's place, I couldn't wake her up. My grandson woke up and was crying so I reached over her snoring body and picked him up, fed him and took him home with me. I left her a text message letting her know where he was. She knew I was picking him up at 9:30.
Later when we went out grocery shopping together I could smell a hangover on her breath. So I wait and watch. She is a good mama but she has her own problems.
So I worry, which does me no good. My muscles are seizing up. My back is so painful from tight muscles.
Katie has dental surgery tomorrow morning. She needs a general anesthetic for any dental work. I asked her father to take her tomorrow because he's here visiting her all weekend. He said he can't, he's working. So the big guy and I took tomorrow off, because we work too, and we'll take her. This burns my ass. No thank you from him, for arranging everything, for getting her history and physical done by her doctor, no thank you for filling in all the forms, no thank you for using my vacations days to care for my daughter. I think this may be sitting in the muscles of my back as well. There is still anger there.
Katie met her new psychiatrist on Friday. He was kind, observant and well informed. He'd read her file. He asked why my son, the oldest in the family, wasn't Katie's alternate guardian. I told him that my son was a an alcoholic and drug addict who was in jail when Katie's guardianship went through. He looked at me and said, "You have a lot on your plate." And I wonder if I attract shit into my life or it just happens. Do I cope poorly or well with all the shit in my life? I have no way of knowing. I only know my own life, I don't know the lives of others.
This was my view yesterday morning on my walk in the river valley before work. This morning we couldn't even see the downtown skyline because of the smoke from the forest fires raging north of us. High Level is almost 750 km north of us and the wind has driven the smoke south. The sun is an eerie orange color and it smells like smoke.
The trees are all blooming which is lovely.
The poor cat hasn't figured out how to open the retractable screen door, yet. I imagine she will. The dog has it figured out. She just runs at if head on and it snaps back. We have a neighbor cat that spends a lot of time outdoors; it was a barn cat when it was born. The little girl next door loves picking him up and throwing him outside. I like seeing cats outside, despite the coyotes and cars but our cat takes a much dimmer view of having a strange cat in her yard, eating her catnip, laying on her deck. Bagheera now spends countless hours staring out of the window, ever vigilant.
I'm feeling much better. I stopped the pepcid and three days later the depression has lifted, no thoughts of death. My doctor doesn't really believe me but this is the second time that this has happened on pepcid and it happens very quickly; I go straight to feeling suicidal which is very scary. I can take pepcid once in awhile but if I take it daily, it's bad.
I'm going to pick up my grandson soon and we're going to the nursery to buy more plants. The big guy has built me another planter and he requested vegetables and herbs, so we're off.
This photo is what I feel like today, dark and grey. Depression has descended once again and I hate depression. It hit full force yesterday but I think it's been building for a couple of weeks. Three weeks of being short staffed, really sick patients and an ungrateful son who brings his own grey cloud with him wherever he goes.
My feet have been really sore and the extensor tendonitis came back so I had to take naproxen for a few days which upsets my stomach and gives my heartburn, so I take Pepcid more than I should and then depression sets in and it feels like it's here forever.
I know it will pass. I know this but it doesn't feel like it. I keep crying. I keep doing my usual stuff. This weekend I baked, worked in the yard, planted more perennials, cleaned the house and did the laundry but all of it felt like I was moving through molasses. Everything was hard but I didn't want to stop moving. The world is grey and slow and I want to lay down and just stop moving. The day is endless and something to be endured.
I know it will pass.
Update. I'm starting to feel much better. Thank you everyone for the kind words.
Nothing much going on in my life. The co-worker who drives me nuts is back to her old tricks, making mountains of out molehills. That woman doesn't have a clue. She was a team player for almost two months but that's over.
My garden is up and growing. Veg are planted. I'll fertilize the lawn today after I cut it.
I'm feeling irritable today but not sure why.
Solved my problem. I went outside and worked in the garden, then I cleaned out and rearranged my mud room. Got rid of some of that unwanted, irritable energy.
Prairie crocus. A lovely little flower that is one of the first one to bloom around here.
We had our grandson over yesterday for awhile to give his mama a break. He's grown so much and looks at everything, pays attention, tries to copy your facial expressions. He's such a good little baby.
My own son still doesn't get it. I asked him to give us three days notice if he wants to come over to visit his son and he can't be bothered to do that. It's not like I'm asking for two weeks notice, just three days notice because we also have a life and want to do things on the weekend. But no, the world only revolves around him. He's still not paying child support and last weekend when he was supposed to show up to see his son, he never did.
It's nice to have four days off right now. The past two weeks have been really tough at work. Short staffed and really sick patients. A twenty-six year old girl who was palliative. A forty-two year old woman with stage four bowel cancer, only diagnosed three weeks ago and already in agony and dying. Old patients that no longer show up because they've died. All of it is worse when there are not enough nursing bodies.
But today there is the garden and sunshine and birdsong. Last night I went to the nursery after we dropped our grandson off with his mama and I just wandered around, enjoying all the flowers. I bought plants too, obviously because I can't go to a nursery without buying plants. I bought something called a haskap shrub. It's from the honeysuckle family and is indigenous to Canada so I'm hopeful.
Right now the sun is shining and the sheets are in the washing machine and I'm off to get groceries. I'm hopeful the garden and sun will work their magic and feed my soul.
The flowers are have started to bloom. The grass is turning green and the leaves are appearing on the trees. I hung my sheets on the line to dry last Saturday. It is truly, finally spring.
I'm continuing the loving kindness meditation. It's getting easier and I feel good doing it. I'm even including myself in the meditation.
"May I be safe.
May I be happy.
May I be healthy.
May I live with ease."
Being kind to myself.
We leave for our holiday in a month. Two weeks in Newfoundland which I'm very much looking forward to. Puffins and icebergs. Gros Morne National Park and L'Anse Aux Meadows. There's even a town called Dildo.
It's been a difficult week. We were short at work all week. Monday was the worst day, all manner of things going wrong. Transport patients, patients parked in hallways, overtime, add ons, too busy to keep everything flowing smoothly. I don't like that and that is when mistakes get made. The lady who was parked in the hall for an hour because nobody told the nurses she was there, or that she was a transport patient, or that she needed transport home. That's shameful to me. We got her sorted out but I don't like it when my patients slip between the cracks. It's not right.
Last Friday I had a young woman the same age as my middle daughter who is on palliative chemo for bowel cancer. That breaks my heart. She was dealing with it but it hurt me. Yesterday I interviewed a woman for her central line, she's going for a stem cell transplant. When I started talking about the line her eyes teared up and she needed the bathroom. I told her I would give her some time and then come back. Cancer and treatment often becomes too real when you need a central line. It's an external identifier that there is something really wrong with your body. You can see it all the time and it can't be avoided. At least that's my theory.
And yesterday an older couple from Gaza, nearly immigrated here, only five months and the wife has lymphoma. Going through cancer treatment in a foreign language in a foreign country must be so hard. They were a lovely couple and I told them I was glad that they were safe and living here now.
I'm trying to avoid dealing with my son. It always turns into a complicated loop of half truths, lies and avoidance. When you ask him a question he doesn't like or point out something he doesn't want to deal with, he just pretends it didn't happen. I need to step further back and just be there for my grandson, allow my son his visit and then stay out of his life. It's too painful for me.
Gracie asked my son for $300/month for child support which I think is more than fair. My son wants to be more "involved" with his son's life so wants to shop for him. I pointed out that shopping is about "you" not your son. Then he shows up with bags of second clothes that someone has given him and thinks he's supporting his son. My son who has a Gucci man purse but can't or won't supply funds for the care of his son. It makes me feel sick to my stomach and brings back so many bad memories of this very same disagreement from thirty-five years ago between me and my son's father.
And the big guy is angry and frustrated as well and that upsets me. He's angry because my son hurts me and then I feel upset. It's a circle jerk of anger all around and I want it to stop which I guess is up to me.
I'm so tired of always being the responsible one, of taking care of everyone else, of putting my needs aside for others. I wanted to go for an early lunch at work yesterday and I had a difficult time doing even that. I danced around the issue and then finally said, "I'm hungry, do you mind if I go for lunch first?" And that was hard. Why???????????????????
Nobody else seems to have a problem asking for what they want, or just taking what they want.
This morning I'm taking Miss Katie to the doctor to have her medication prescription renewed and to have her pre-op papers filled in for her upcoming dental surgery. It's my day off. I would love to work in the yard or quilt but I will do this for my daughter. Her father won't, nor will he say thank you. In fact when she was seventeen years old he moved 1000km away. I'm tired of his shit too.
Apparently the loving kindness meditation hasn't quite kicked in:)
I'm still reading the book, "Love 2.0" and trying to practice the loving kindness meditation. May you by safe. May you be healthy. May you be happy. May you live with ease. Time will tell if I continue on with this meditation and if it truly does help me to be more positive. I hope. Always.
One of Gracie's cats died suddenly yesterday. He was a stray cat that she took in. She had both of her cats neutered a few months ago. Apparently poor Charlie hadn't been peeing and nobody knew. I was cleaning the littler boxes but with two cats you can't tell if one isn't peeing. He had a blockage in his urethra and died of renal failure. Gracie is pretty upset and blamed herself. The big guy and I went over there last night and listened while she told us what happened. We told her it's not her fault. She thought life was unfair and that too many bad things happen and I agreed with her.
So I got to cuddle the new guy last night for awhile which is lovely, even as I had tears in my eyes because I love my animals too and wouldn't want them to suffer.
I finally finished Miss Katie's quilt and I will give it to her for her birthday in a couple of months. She won't care but I will know that she has a quilt that I made just for her. It was my first real quilt that I made, a sampler really and has lots of imperfections but it allowed me to learn a lot and I am thankful that Katie won't judge me for it.
My son will be over this weekend to visit the little guy. Last Friday my son harassed me all day with text messages accusing me of using his son against him among other things. By the end of the day I was mentally worn out. He needs to get into counselling because he is messed up. He has no skills for dealing with disappointment or conflict. He bounces around like a ping pong ball, trying all kinds of things, guilt, anger, trying to please, ignoring, lying and avoidance, all within the span of an hour. It's exhausting. I have told him that my main concern is not him but his son, that this is about keeping his son safe and cared for. I have told him that, when you have children it is no longer about you, it's about your child. He says, yeah, yeah, yeah and then calls Gracie at 11:30 pm telling her that he wants to drop off diapers.
WTF! He's not allowed to visit where she lives. He signed a peace bond which lasts for a year and if he breaks it he is subject to a maximum of four years in jail and still he persists. I understand that he wants to see his son but he is a threat to his son as well. It's tiring.
I'm a little weepy this morning, worried about a son who continues to crash against the world, unable to see a clear path ahead for himself, unable to there for his son, just as his own father was not there for him, history repeating itself. It's early days I tell myself but still it breaks my heart again.
When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, “Stay awhile.” The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say, “and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.” - Mary Oliver -
I am a little weepy this morning, worried about a son who continues to crash against the world,
unable to see a clear path ahead for himself, unable to be there for his own son, just as his own father
could not be there for him, repeating history. It's early days I tell myself but still it breaks my heart.
The mountains did their trick, my cup is full to overflowing and I feel much better. We went to all our usual spots. It started snowing as we drove south to higher elevations, big, fat flakes but it wasn't cold. It feels like being inside a snow globe that someone has just shaken. We got as far as the Columbia Icefield and stopped there for tea and coffee. It was their first day open so it was quiet, peaceful and snowing.
We came home yesterday and my son came over to visit his son. Twice we've done this. I go pick up the baby, bring him over to our house and my son gets to spend time with his son. We'll see how long this lasts. The first time my son spent the first 45 minutes pressing all of my buttons and when I didn't respond, he finally gave up and settled down. Yesterday there was no button pushing.
We took Gracie and the baby out for supper last night. We were going out anyway and I didn't want her sitting alone at home so she joined us and enjoyed herself. The little guy slept through the whole thing. When we dropped her off I hugged her and told her she was doing a good job, so did the big guy. And she is doing a good job. It's not easy taking care of a baby by yourself.
I'm reading a good book right now, "Love 2.0" by Barbara Fredrickson, a psychology professor at the University of North Carolina. It's about positive emotions and how they change us. It's about biochemistry and brain chemistry and about love. My kind of book. It's not enough for me to be told I need to do something like meditate, I need to know the how and the why because when I understand am I much more likely to follow through.
Not really sure what I want to write about. I feel adrift. I'm not used to being home all day anymore. I miss my routine, miss by patients and miss my friends at work. Last week was busy enough, at a different hospital all week, but I feel out of sorts.
I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop I guess. Waiting for the shit storm my son usually causes. Hurting already for his son who will be lied to and disappointed by his father over and over again. I hope that doesn't happen but in my experience it's what my son does. Fucking hell! It's the reason I left my son's father and now history is repeating itself.
I need to let go of expectations and worries and just live today. If anyone out there knows how to do this, please let me know.
I'm reading "Becoming" by Michelle Obama. I would like to have her as a friend. I would like to have had her parents. I wonder if I would have been different if I had different parents. I'm not a bad person but I worry so much. I'm like Mark Twain, “I've lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.”
I am more like my mother than I would like to be. She made catastrophes out of small things. I try not to but still it happens. I don't imagine I'm the only one either.
The sky is grey today, rain or snow today in the forecast. It matches my mood.
Liam had a hard time coming into the world. His mama was terrified, refused to attend prenatal classes because she thought it would cause her too much anxiety and didn't know anything about c-sections, other than, she didn't want one. It didn't go well for either of them and eventually both Liam and his mama were at risk for severe complications. As it was, he didn't breathe on his own for the first six and half minutes of his life. He's still drowsy from all the drugs but has latched on and is breast feeding which is good. He's a sweet little guy. His mama enrolled him in a long term study to research the effects of his particular resusitation. A new prayer to add to my nightly ritual. Please let him be okay.
My daughter accused me of being negative all the time which stung. She's not wrong but I started thinking about medicine and nursing and realized that when things are working well, when there is no negative, everything is fine. I was taught to look for dysfunction, not function. I think of myself as a realist. I hope but within the confines of reality. I don't hope for miracles, or maybe I do. I think the big guy would say I hope for miracles. So basically I'm all over the map.
I'm scared that my son will scar this little boy for life with broken promises and addictions, just like his own father did to him. I can't fix my son, I can only stand by and hope and pray. I finished the quilt for Liam finally, on the day he was born. I had to wash it because the cat had already vomited on it but I kept the promise to myself to made a quilt for my grandchildren.
I'm scared and hopeful and tired. I have such a hard time seeing the good. I guess my daughter is right. I need some mountain time, or at least some time by the river and the trees.
It's been a busy couple of weeks. Still no baby. Gracie was supposed to start being induced yesterday but apparently the hospital had a bunch of emergency C sections so no time for inductions. That poor girl is terrified of labour and I'm wondering how much of the holdup is due to fear. I imagine she's also worried about the shit show that will ensue with my son after the baby is born.
Last week I texted my son and told him that I wanted his stuff out of our garage, just bags of clothes. When he went to jail last November Gracie called us and asked us to pick up all his stuff. She was traumatized by my son and then the police. My son was hallucinating and telling her they had to kill someone again. The police were called by a neighbor and they broke down the door, handcuffed both of them and then carted my son away.
When he got out of jail in January I asked him to come get his stuff. Two and half months later, it was still here. He stopped by once to get a few things but refused to take all of it. So last week I told him I wanted it out of our garage before the weekend was over. He couldn't do that. He had plans. Next weekend he said. I told him no, it was happening this weekend.
It went back and forth. He finally agreed to let us deliver his stuff to him, you're very welcome. We drove to the other side of the city and woke up a very tired looking Polish lady who had no idea who my son was. He gave us the wrong address, on purpose or by accident I don't know because I asked him three times for the address and got two different answers. I tried to contact him, no answer. Yada yada. We gave up and drove home. Later that day we donated his stuff to Goodwill and I haven't heard back from him.
I'm starting to accept that my son must be mentally ill. This goes beyond addiction and regular fuck ups. His life is a train wreck and it breaks my heart but I will no let him drag me down with him, or his son.
At work we had accreditation this past week which was intense. It's over and the system that the big guy developed to deal with the equipment in DI was a huge hit. There's talk of selling the system and I'm so proud of him. He's been working on it for the past seven and a half years and it finally got the recognition it deserves.
Spring has finally arrived and I have some tomato and sunflower plants sprouting in the kitchen window. I've already been to the greenhouse twice so far and can hardly wait until I can plant outside. The geese have arrived and their honks fill the air. It's a sound I love. In a few more weeks it will be the sound of the sandhill cranes flying overhead. I can hardly wait.
I was sick again this past week. The last six weeks have conspired to make me feel like a very old woman, but I'm on the mend. Yesterday at work a seventy-four year man assumed I was close to his age. Ouch. It's the almost white hair. I hope.
My grandbaby hasn't made an appearance yet. His mama has moved and is all settled in now and loves the house. I took the dog for a walk last night and stopped by to visit her and see how she was doing. She's good but big as a house poor thing. Soon.
We had a code at work this week, a severe allergic reaction to the CT dye, something that happens but rarely are the reactions that bad. The patient was fine in the end but scared the shit out of all of us.
One of the nurses I work with is a good friend of mine. She has bipolar disorder and is sinking again. She usually only last about six months at work and then ends up back in the hospital which always breaks my heart. She's a smart, funny, kind woman who has a huge heart and right now I can see her fading. She folds up and slowly backs away when she is suffering. Her fur goes up and she gets prickly. It's the disease but still I miss her when she's like this.
Same old same old. Nothing much changes, while constantly changing. The snow is receding in the back yard leaving behind snow mold and what appears to the stools of a hundred dogs. I can't believe such a small dog can produce that much shit. I suppose mine would look the same if it wasn't flushed down the toilet each day but rather spread on my lawn, waiting for spring.
My in-laws are coming for supper. I won't hold my tongue today if my father-in-law starts talking about Muslims. I'm done with letting him getting away with his racism because I try to respect my elders. If he chooses to talk about racism I will respond.
Now it's time to clean. There are muddy dog footprints on the floors which need cleaning up. Supper to be made and a dessert. I'll listen to the CBC while I putter around the house. The big guy has gone into work for a few hours and I have the house to myself.
Trying to be a decent human being so I asked my ex husband if he wanted to meet his grandson. This is what he wrote back.
I met my ex husband when my son was almost three years old. When my son was five years old, my ex adopted my son. The second name that is whited out is that of my son's biological father whom I've had nothing to do with in decades.
When I was married to that man, I believed I was crazy. Turns out I'm not, it was just that I lived with a depressed, angry, vindictive man. I'm so thankful that he's not in my life anymore and to be honest, I'm thankful he doesn't want to be involved in his grandson's life. The big guy is already an excellent grandpa.
I feel so sad tonight. I tried to reach out to a young woman with cancer who was being given a hard time on social media because she was angry. Why the hell wouldn't she be angry? But I think I messed it up and I feel badly.
And Donald tRump continues to spew his brand of hatred and bigotry and fear and others pick up and run with it and now a lot of people in New Zealand are dead. And I want to tell Mr. tRump to stop. Stop hating. Stop sewing seeds of hate. Stop lying. Stop being a horrible human being but when I go on his Facebook page people leave comments about what a wonderful president he is and I feel sick to my stomach and I want to cry and cry and cry.
And I worry about the world and I worry about what we're all doing to each other. And I wonder how you get to a place where you think it's okay to gun down innocent people, men, women and children, in a house of worship. How do you end up with so much hate in your heart?
And did Donald tRump get his hatred from the same place? And is it contagious? Or are all human beings that horrible and we just pretend to be good? Is it just a thin veneer that stops us from hurting and hating each other?
Miss Katie is doing well. We took her out last Sunday and she wanted me to take this photo of her. She's sees young women taking photos of themselves and each other all the time at the mall and she is a young woman, so she insisted I take a photo.
The last year was rough on her. Last April she had a few very bad meltdowns, one which including attacking me, another, attacking a caregiver. I didn't know what to do so I took her to emergency. There is not really any good psychiatric care for people with developmental disabilities. After eight hours we finally met a wonderful psych resident who recommended valproic acid as a mood stabilizer and after eleven hours, we left emergency with a prescription for valproic acid.
I can't say enough good things about the drug. It has dramatically changed Katie's life. She is no longer anxious, or rarely, and when she does become anxious, it is short lived. Her attention span has increased greatly and she is trying to fingerspell people's names and tries numbers as well. Because she's more relaxed and has quit attacking people, she only goes into her wheelchair when she's tired. The cape is gone, except when she's on DATS, because of an incident that happened six years ago. She attacked a bus driver, pulled their hair. When we wander around the mall with her in wheelchair, legs crossed, she holds up her hand and wants to high five everyone. She hugs freely as well. A lot of people who work at that mall know her.
She's more like her old self again. She's happy, smiling and enjoying life. Her sense of humor has returned and she laughs often and hard. She gets so excited at times that her body vibrates but she doesn't tip over into anxiety anymore, she's just excited and then it passes.
We were at the mall on Sunday and there was an International Judo competition going on. She's not a fan of conflict but when I explained that the contestants were "playing" she was okay with it. She sat in her chair and watched, mezmerized. She loves watching people. When we had to continue on to meet the big guy for lunch, she asked if we could go back to watch the fighting. I said later and she remembered that and held me to it.
During lunch the big guy asked if she wanted to go to the petting zoo and Miss Katie looks at me and signs fighting, later. I started laughing because I had already forgotten about that promise but she didn't. I kept my word and she made her choice, Judo over animals.
On the way home in the car she asked me to ask her caregivers if she could go and watch the swimmers at the nearby pool, so I did.
She's learning and growing and it blows my mind that after years of regression that she is now blossoming. I am thankful.
I've been sick off and on for the past four weeks. I hate being sick, hate sitting down, hate being tired and full of mucous all the time, hate laying down in bed at night knowing that I won't sleep well because I can't breath, hate waking up in the middle of the night with a mouth so dry it feels like a desertscape, although maybe that was a dream, I'm not sure.
However, I'm feeling better this morning. My grandson's mama, Gracie, is now on maternity leave but doesn't get enough money to live on, just cover her rent and nothing else. So Gracie is going to move in with Nicole, the young woman we rent our house to. Gracie and Nicole met yesterday and both are excited to start living together.
Gracie is big as a house now and due in two weeks, although the doctor may induce her sooner because the baby is big. She decided that she would rather move before the baby is born rather than after he's born so she's moving next weekend. She'll be a short walk away from us which makes me feel that I designed this but I didn't. I think I feel guilty because something good will come from all of this.
I've taken a couple of days off to paint her bedroom a nice color, scrub floors and hang some curtains. She's excited to be moving out of her apartment and into a house with a yard and nice neighbors. Where she lives now is not a good place to raise a kid, there is a massage parlour across the street, her words, not mine but they are true.
She is becoming a part of our family. Gracie and her parents came over for supper last night so we could get to know her parents and it was nice. We have nothing in common except for our grandson but that's enough. We all want what's best for him. Gracie even gave me a hug as she left which pleased me so much.
My son still doesn't get it. He posted this on his Facebook page.
I want to tell him that this starts with showing up when you say you're going to; it means showing up at prenatal appointments. It starts with making sure your baby mama has enough food to eat while she's pregnant and a roof over her head. That being a dad starts before your baby is born. I don't know what the future will bring. I hope he does better but I doubt it. I hope and pray but I'm not holding my breath.
The sun is shining through the window this morning. A woodpecker was just eating some suet and it's going to be above zero all week which is lovely. The dog expects walks again now that it's warmed up and her feet don't freeze. She watches me while I brush my teeth and change my clothes, hoping for a walk. I was a huge disappointment to her yesterday as I ran out of time to walk her. I shall have to do better today.
I was going to write about my mother and her death six years but I am beyond angry this morning and I need to get this shit out of my head.
We rent out a house to a young woman, in her early twenties, and her little boy. This young woman, I'll call her Nicole, is a lovely young woman. Hard working, kind and gentle, forgiving. Far too forgiving if you ask me. Her boyfriend and his brother, both grown men in their thirties and forties, lived in the house with her. They treated her like shit. When she had tried to break up with him in the past he threatened suicide and at another time, threatened to take away her son from her. They are both pigs, immature and manipulative and the ex-boyfriend doesn't think he should have to support his child. The money should go into an account for the child which the child can access when he's eighteen. That's called an RESP you fucking moron. Child support pays for diapers and food and clothes and school.
She finally gave them both the heave ho. She has been attacked on facebook by the "boys", I'll call them boys because there is no way in hell they are adults, mother. She has been called a liar, a thief and bitch by this woman.
When the "boys" moved out on Wednesday, they literally threw her things around and left her with a huge fucking mess. And not just a housekeeping mess. Her boyfriend lied on his taxes and now she owes the government a shitload of money that she doesn't have.
These "boys" are also angry at us because they wanted to stay in the house with the cheap rent and make her move out. I told them that the house is cheap because of Nicole. She is the daughter of a good friend of ours and she is a single mom. She is staying there, they can move out.
I know things will get better but right now she feels like she is drowning and it breaks my heart. And then the furnace quit and it was -30C last night so the house is freezing. We had a guy there last night to fix the furnace but it must have quit again during the night.
I remember being a single mom and having no money and that feeling of drowning. Nicole has a wonderful, supportive family but still she has to get through this herself and it's just so damned hard right now for her.
This young woman also gives the best hugs ever and loves with her heart wide open. She deserves better and I want to hurt someone because of this. I know my anger will pass too but right now I'm going to clean my house down to the last cat hair in the last corner and exorcise this anger.
I was here a year ago, visiting my middle daughter. She loves living in Vancouver, not all the time but most of the time. I spoke to her on the phone the other night and she was happy. Most of the time the only I hear from her she is going somewhere, driving home from work, going for groceries, or in this case, walking to her boyfriend's place after work.
She was excited because she found an apartment she can afford on her own. She's never lived on her own. She got a promotion at work and a raise. She's happy with her boyfriend. She's happy and independent which is what I always wanted for my children but I feel a little bereft which is my problem.
Katie is also doing well. She still needs me but it is not one crisis after another. Now we take her out for lunch and enjoy her company. She is healthy and happy.
My son is another story but I have come to accept that I can't fix him, only he can do that. I've also, mostly, stopped blaming myself for his addictions and behavior. I have told him that I love him and that's all I can really do. I will not be drawn into his lies and addictions. I have a relationship with his baby's mama and I'm glad for that. It breaks my heart that he is missing out on so much but again, not my fault.
I've been sick with a cold all week and I hate being sick. I don't like sitting around all day, skin hurting, throat hurting, head pounding. I'll be better soon but I am an impatient cow:)