The Mill River Redemption

I can remember when I divorced back in 2002.  Life wasn't easy and that was putting it lightly.  I had to move home with my two cats and all my possessions to a four bedroom house that belonged to my parents.  Oh and my parents were still living in it too.

After being married for eleven years a sudden change in my status as an adult to that of a child, hey I'm not kidding you because when I moved back home I was treated like a child with a curfew, really hurt.  Not only was I losing a spouse, no big loss there, but to lose the respect of one's parents really sucked.

Once again I had to prove myself to the world.  I had to show my parents and the community that I was an adult and should be treated as one even if my living conditions were a bit more than the temporary that I had hoped for.

First I got a job.  Not a great job but a job that helped to pay the majority of the bills I needed to pay.  There was no way my retail income would cover rent and the food bill together.  I swallowed my pride and asked my parents if it was okay if I couldn't pay them rent.  They were okay with that fact as they knew my divorce was costing me every last dime I could scrape together.  I ended up paying out almost five thousand dollars for my divorce. I chuckle every time I think about what I paid considering that I also paid for the marriage license and the first month's rent on our apartment.  What was I thinking to even marry that dirt bag?

With the move home I found I was able to swallow my pride, lick my wounds and fight back for my survival when necessary.  I learned that I was worth a better life.  I wasn't going to allow another man to hit me without them going down too.  Well at least they would go down when the cops would get involved since I'm handicapped and can only fight just so much.

Looking back to that rough period in my life I will never forget how much my parents took care of me.  Even though they were never the best at parenting they did what they could with their adult child to guide her in the right direction so that she, me that is, would have a decent relationship with another man some day.  I guess that is what my hidden inheritance was when I was finally able to uncover it; the knowledge for a lasting love, the love of a parent for their child.

This post was inspired by the novel The Mill River Redemption by Darcie Chan, about two estranged sisters who are forced to work together in order to uncover the hidden inheritance by their mother. Join From Left to Write on December 2nd as we discuss The Mill River Redemption and enter to win a copy of the novel. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends from my little family to yours.  Even with the recent loss of my father I'll be cooking for my spouse and I this year.  Nothing big just the normal turkey meatloaf, cranberry sauce, pecan pie, mashed potatoes, rolls, and green bean casserole.  Maybe next year Little E will be able to sample a bite of it.

Home Again

...and I don't mean at my Mom's house either.

I have to say that I've never been happier to be back at my apartment.  Mom was getting quite cranky yesterday.  Today when I called her I didn't even get the chance to say I love you before she jumped down my throat with, "what do you want!  I'm busy trying to wrap Christmas gifts and get a copy made of the death certificate for Aunt J!".  I did ask why her sister wanted a copy of the death certificate but never got a straight answer out of her.  So I hung up.  I did say bye.

I just can't figure some people out.  I mean I know that I was never the favorite child and I didn't expect to be but sheesh one would think that after what happened last week Monday I would at least rate a bit higher now.  Not even close.  Mom made her statement to the police and did so with the intention of protecting my brother's butt.  She said to me before I left, "you didn't like what I wrote for my statement did you?".  I told her it isn't for me to like or not.  You wrote what you felt you had to in order to protect your own interests whether it was fair or not.

Problem is that she wasn't being truthful on her statement either.  I won't be talking more about it here for a long while.  Wish I could but knowing my brother he'll find a way to censure me or shut down my blog to protect his butt.

Not that he knows that I have a blog but Mom knows I have a blog and I'm sure she'll mention it to him even if she doesn't know the web address.

In other news, I wrapped the last of the Christmas gifts that have to be sent out.  I still need to wrap the gifts for Little E and J.

I still haven't broken down in tears for my Dad yet.

J is due to leave soon.  Maybe I'll break down then?

J is going to hopefully have some time to help me decorate before he leaves.  Hard to do when you have a baby that refuses to nap when needed.

I'll leave you with a photo of J and Little E.  She is such a daddy's girl.

J

Once upon a time a long, long, really long time ago there was a family unit that looked to the outside world as if it was the model for all families out there.  No one person was treated better than the other person, or so it seemed.




Upon closer look little cracks in the perfect family were noticed.  If one moved in for an even closer look they would see the painted on smiles and that the clothing was worn in spots.  So much for the ideal family.




Discrimination is alive and well in my family.  It isn't like a holocaust but there are days that it would seem to be just that where the blonde haired blue-eyed oldest sibling was trying to wipe out the younger dark haired dark-eyed youngest sibling.  Genocide?  No but the torture was still there all the same.  This was always covered up and tried to be forgotten by the family unit.  This family unit had major problems and very little tolerance for imperfection.




The youngest child craved the affection and attention that the older one received.  She wanted to be recognized for her achievements.  The oldest child was always causing havoc and blaming the youngest child for anything that went wrong in the family to the point where the youngest child felt like running away for good and not just to a friend's house on the weekends.




Yes, this is my family I am writing about.  I'm sorry to say that the little girl never did escape the madness.  She returned home as an adult when her first marriage collapsed.  She lived in the now smaller family unit that was still full of problems.




When death hit the family she again went home.  Why did she keep going home?  I have to ask myself that question over and over again.  Why?  Was she stupid?  Did she crave the affection that just wasn't there for her?




Well I went home when the death of my father was impending.  What I didn't expect was that there would be more violence laying in wait for me when I got there.  I encountered the wrath of my brother once again.  Once again he tried to kill me off.




Did the littlest sibling ever wake up and smell the coffee?  Oh yes I did.  This time there will be hell to pay.


This post was inspired by the novel J by Howard Jacobson, about a world where collective memory has vanished and the past is a dangerous country, not to be talked about or visited. Join From Left to Write on November 20th as we discuss J. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Death

It is never easy for a child when they lose their parent no matter how old the child or the parent.


On Monday morning my dad died.


Monday evening I was assaulted by my brother.  I went to the Emergency Department at a hospital near to my mom's home.  Soft tissue injuries from him choking me.  I had the police brought into my room and I reported the assault.  I'll be pressing charges.


My brother might have been my dad's favorite but Dad isn't here, thankfully, to witness what happened.  Mom pleaded with me for the first few hours to not report it.  I made her realize that if he had hurt anyone outside the family or even my daughter she would have wanted the police to get involved.  I refuse to be guilt tripped into not pressing charges.


The next few days are going to be really rough.  I'm being medicated for the pain.  I'm to be kept separate from my brother during the wake and funeral.  Oh not because I'd go after him but because he might again try to kill me.


I'll go into more details on the whole thing when I'm back home and hopefully safe on the military installation.


Thinking of all of you and hoping your lives are good.

Going Home

I guess the time has come to say good bye to my father.

His doctor called yesterday.  His kidneys are failing.  They can't do dialysis.

It is now only a matter of time.  His doctor said she thinks this weekend will be his last as he goes into complete organ failure.

This sucks!  I still have a few unresolved issues with my dad too.  I'll just have to let them go.  If he isn't bothered by them I shouldn't be either.

Friday At Last

I'm going to strive to enjoy today for various reasons of which I cannot tell you as of yet.  Maybe later next week.

My dad isn't doing well.  They'll be starting him on dialysis shortly because his kidney function is down to 30%.

My brother is flying in to "take care of things" over the weekend.  Ugh!  I can only imagine the damage I'll have to try to fix over Thanksgiving.  Well that is if J can get leave for Thanksgiving because his next mission is on the cusp.

I re-connected with an old friend from Fort Hood last night.  As I was making out my Christmas card list last night I found his old address in my book.  I miss this guy.  I remember when he was going through a rough patch in his young life.  Hard to believe that was almost 20 years ago.  Reminiscing makes me feel so old.

Little E is still refusing to roll over.  Today she turned as pink as her onesie while doing tummy time.  Yes her cries were that bad.

J saw me out walking with her and since it was cold out he stopped the car and picked us up and took us back home.  I was only about 1.5 miles from home.  E was bundled up with booties over her socks, a hooded sweater over her outfit and a blanket over that.  Geez I think she had on more layers than I did.  But of course when all you do is sit there you are going to need them.

Yes that pink for her face color.  I'm hesitant to just let her cry like that but she has to learn to roll over.  She has the swimming down pat and can rock but no roll!

Four Months Old

Two days ago Little E turned four months old.

Milestones: She is taking 2-4 ounces of white grape juice and eating some rice cereal from a bowl now.

Length: 24.2 inches

Weight 14 lbs 10 oz

Her length puts her in the 55th percentile and her weight the 75th percentile for her age.

She had all her shots on the 31st for her four month check up.  These didn't go as badly this time around because as soon as I got to a seat with her I gave her the baby tylenol.  I learned my lesson with the first set of shots!

J had his first blood draw by accident with her.  He was cutting her nails today and accidentally nipped a finger of her's.  She didn't cry until he started going crazy about the tiny bit of blood.  Daddy felt really bad.  I made phone call to my mom to ensure him that all parents have done just that.  Mom calmed him down and assured him that I was dropped to the floor and had more than one finger tip cut with the nippers too.  I guess it is a right of passage with the baby with at least one parent inflicting accidental damage to the little one.

No teeth yet but she is drooling a lot.
She isn't rolling over yet.  But she is sitting up unsupported in a chair.  She can also stand if you hold her hands.

I had a nightmare last night she skipped crawling altogether and went right to walking and I didn't have the house baby proofed.

I won't be baby proofing this house if I can help it either.  It looks like I'll be able to finally get ADA housing on post.  It took a phone call from my doctor to the landlord on post to make them realize what I needed and to stop delaying my paperwork.

The "new" place will be about the same size as the place I lived in at the last duty station when it comes to square footage.  Luckily the rooms will be large enough to get the wheel chair or walker around in them if I end up in one after surgeries.  Yes there is that distinct possibility.  Praying it doesn't happen but  it could and as for now I do use a cane.  My cane is easy to attach to the stroller of which I'm glad.  I'm not looking forward to trying to navigate a stroller while using a walker or wheel chair so I really hope it doesn't happen.

Yesterday J and I fed the baby from a bowl and spoon for the first time.   I wanted to post a vid of it but it is too large of a file.

Yes, I'm still fat.  About 8 weeks after the next surgery I should be allowed to exercise again.  Until then it is still pelvic rest.  It sucks.

A Letter To My Cat

Bugsy,

You are a wonderful cat. I remember well the night you decided to make a home with us. We were still living at an Army installation in Washington state. Your third owner had abandoned you so we had found out. It took a bit of coaxing with dried salmon treats, wet food and calling out the name your last owner had given you but you made your way into our home and into our hearts too.

Its been a little over a year now that you became part of our family. You've been part of a lot of changes. You now have a little sister, or another human guardian if you please. I know you love her a lot. This very morning you gifted to her one of your favorite toys much like a mouser would leave its kill on the pillow of its owner to show their love.

You have been a real trooper with making the 3000 mile journey with us to the new duty station without leaving a complaint in your cage or the floor of any hotel room. On that long trip your genuine trust of the human race boggled my mind. Many humans I wouldn't trust at all. You taught me that I need to give a second chance to people too.

Bugsy my dear, sweet, fluffy one I love you. I can't imagine my life without you. You weren't the first cat in my life but you have become the most important one. Yes, even more important than my beloved black devil cat that was my fur baby for eleven years. I still miss him but the heartache of his loss has lessened with you coming into my home.

I envy you how you are able to lie in the sun for hours chasing it from window to window to soak up the warmth. Maybe I should get a window hammock that fits humans too? I wish I could curl up on the top of the sofa next to you but I'll settle for just leaning back against the sofa with you near my head.

I love how each morning you crawl up on my belly and nudge my chin. I thought perhaps this habit of yours would cease after I had the baby but it didn't. You will even make room for yourself on my lap when I have your little sister on one of my legs during her feedings.

Remember always that I love you. I don't think you could forget. For wherever we roam you will go too.

Love always,
Mama

This post was inspired by A Letter to My Cat by Lisa Erspamer, a collection of letters penned by celebrities to their furry friend. Join From Left to Write on November 10th as we discuss A Letter to My Cat. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Above: at home celebrating his sister's 4th month birthday.

Side left: at Grandma D's house making himself at home this past week.

Claiming Daddy's military issue as your own to nap on.

You and I this past June.

Caught you. From this moment on I'd leave the sink at a drip just for you.

Daddy was deployed and you missed him.

The night you came inside. You claimed J as your own. Hard to believe you were this skinny. Down to 7 pounds from being abandoned. All skin and bones and not much fat left for being a large breed cat.

Always Something Else

I'm having a real struggle here with my landlord on Ft. Stewart.

I need ADA housing.

I get the paperwork from K.J. at the BB office.

I have my doctor's office fill it out.

Not good enough.  It isn't specific enough and the doctor thought that the ADA was implied.

One more time I bring the doctor the form and have his office fill it out with the letters ADA on it in the correct line space.

K.J. at the BB office calls me while I was gone to my folks up north.  According to her the handwriting doesn't match and thus it is rejected.

I need to pick up yet another form and tell my doctor that he can't have his nurse fill out the form even if he himself did sign and stamp it.  No he needs to put pen to paper and copy all of that which was put on the other form onto the new one and again sign and stamp the new form.

I'm wondering just how many more fucking flaming hoops I'll have to leap through with my cane to get into better housing.

Can you tell I'm pissed off?

Breaking Down

Folks I'll try to not make this post into a rant.

We tried to get leave to see my parents every weekend now for the past month.  Every time it got denied.  Sometimes it was for a good reason.  But we too had our reasons.  J stated this past time that my dad is not in good health.  Again this weekend's mileage pass got shot down.  He wasn't even asking for an additional day; just a mileage pass.

The Army requires all of its personnel to submit mileage passes for any movement over 250 miles from your present duty station.  We had planned on traveling 325 miles.

Last night my dad was rushed to the hospital in via ambulance.  He took a fall with his oxygen tank because he was so weak from pneumonia.  I was wondering why my parents land line went to answering machine after just two rings last night.  Now I know.

Dad is in the ICU.  It doesn't look good.  I'm surprised with how many times he's been hospitalized in the past that he has made it this far.  One heart valve doesn't work, kidneys at 40%, oxygen full time and the other health issues.  How can he hold on?  I want him to see his granddaughter.  He wants to meet her too.

We've been in contact with the hospital.  We are trying to get a Red Cross Message from the hospital to my husband's unit so that we can travel to my parents.  I'm not asking J to take leave for long, just long enough to drop me Little E  and Bugsy off at my parents' house and take a break for sleep.  He can head back the next day so that he can get ready for this next deployment.

One vehicle household so yeah I need him to drop me off at home.  The nearest train station to my parents' home is 150 from them.  That won't work.  Flying with a baby and a cat is out of the question.  We were planning on getting a second vehicle here shortly too.

I'm just so upset right now.