Feedback

Tonight we visited the high school to discuss next year's courses for one kid, and ran into several people who hadn't heard the official word that she had passed away. One of them, a neurologist, simply held my hand and said, "I am so sorry. There's no easy way to live through this." And that was all he had to say. It was enough.

You know, that was really wonderful. I didn't have to exchange platitudes about how she is "in a better place" or some well-meaning "I'm sure it will ease in time." Yes, both of those phrases are true (and I have even said them!) But what our friend said was just enough...

Afterwards, a school counselor caught me and told me that our kid had been in twice to talk to her since Thanksgiving and was in a grief group during lunch. She said, "I offered, she accepted. I hope that is OK." I said, "yes, she asked us what we thought and we encouraged it." The counselor said, "you are doing a great job - she tells the group how you process grief together and I can't thank you enough for trying to do that. I know it's hard."

I don't know as we have really 'done' much -- we talk. We look at pictures. Sometimes we cry. And then we go about the rest of the day...

But, the feedback really helped me know that she's doing OK, and we're doing OK too. I feel a bit of relief. We are a "public family" since I am in the ministry, and I know people watch to see "how does the pastor handle it." A little bruised and battle-weary, but we're doing OK.

Hallelujah.

It's been two months...

The paperwork continues to cascade as we hit the two month mark on Tuesday. I started a spreadsheet because
1) her hospital stay is covered by Medicare and secondary insurance
2) her initial nursing home stay is covered by Medicare and secondary insurance
3) the five days she was "private pay" has NOTHING covered except a 20% UCR (usual and customary rate) charge for medications

#3 alone was a whopping $1100!!!!!!!!!!!

OK, after we picked ourselves up off the floor, and took a few deep cleansing breaths, I began to create a spreadsheet. So far I've found over $5000 in bills to us which were either not allowed by a Medicare provider or were not billed to secondary insurance.

It's a good thing I can play the numbers game since I worked for an insurance company. Otherwise, we would be paddleless up the proverbial feces creek.

Two months.

Oh God. I really miss her.

A first...

For the first time since the whole business started in October, I started back to singing in worship again. You know what? For a few hours, with rehearsals and then leading worship, everything faded. The paperwork. The pain. The loss.

I know my heart has not been in the right place. I know that I have been stuck on myself with this pity party that isn't great to be around. I really have tried to be "different" and to be "OK." But I also know that lying about how you feel, and not acting like you feel comes back to bite you.

It's a first that I can do and be what seems "normal" and not be suddenly caught in a crying jag.

I'm really grateful.

January

I really should take the tree down before I become one of those weird old ladies who has a pile of Christmas decorations in a corner on Easter...

Due Dates

In three weeks...
- I have a round of paperwork due to the lawyer
- my oldest will have been back to college for a month
- my first paper is due
- I get to go back to the dentist to decide if I have to have a root canal

I am not sure which I dread the most.

Whoop-dee-doo. Happy New Year.

So we went to see family and had a second memorial service. It was good to have the service, but just when I felt like I could get through the day without a crying jag, we have to go back through this knee-high muck of pain and loss.

I told one family member that it was what I had heard families say when they had two memorial services, particularly when someone is buried at Arlington National Cemetery and you have to "wait in line" for the caisson. It just brings up all of the old "stuff."

And it sucks.

The Christmas tree is still up. The lights are still on outside. Of course it's minus-something-awful with the windchill, so who the heck is going to take lights down. Let 'em shine on the snow and blow in the wind. But I don't have the energy to deal with the inside stuff. I need to clear it out and de-clutter but I don't feel like it. I guess it's because it was such a struggle to get everything UP that I don't want to take it DOWN.

New Year's Eve I went to bed at 11. I was too tired to stay awake. The kids stayed up and reported that they fell asleep before the ball dropped.

Now the kids are back in school. The house seems empty when they are away at activities (and the older one is back at college.) We spent a lot of time doing nothing together - watching football on TV, playing a few games... mostly just being. I needed that change of pace from crazy-crazy-crazy.

I know that emotional exhaustion is a killer when it comes to having physical energy. This is just a reminder.

Bleah. Whoop-dee-doo. Happy New Year.

trudging

I manged to buy presents. Put up the tree. Hang stockings. Make cookies. Put out the creche. Write a sermon (I only have one this month!) Write a newsletter article. Whoohooo me. Happy Christmas.

I also took two more loads of stuff to Goodwill.

And I am really REALLY tired of all of the crap.

dragging

I meant to write yesterday, last weekend. I just didn't have the energy.

Now I need to do the bake-clean-shop-wrap-concerts-plays-parties-worship services thing. And I really don't feel like that, either.

Somewhere between obligation and exhaustion. That's where I am living.

I know it is normal. It just sucks.

The "routine" is not routine...

Today is the first day back into a "routine" work week. However, we are finding it hard because things which consumed our lives are suddenly NOT. THERE.

• No running by the nursing home on my way from work to fix dinner and then out the door to kid activities.
• No doing laundry multiple times a week because of incontinence.
• No stopping for a special treat at the local "smoothie" store to bring in and try and tempt her appetite.
• No negotiating or jollying the staff into helping us with a more manageable routine.
• No guilt over leaving when my heart is pulled to stay because there are other people who need me.

These were part of our schedule. And now they are gone. And it's OK. It's just surprising how hard it is to have this sudden change.

I just don't want to...

I know that my heart isn't in it. I really don't care if I decorate for Christmas or not. In fact, I'd not do it at ALL except there would be a family rebellion.

I don't even want to do laundry, let alone "deck them halls."

Pre-holiday let down? Grief? Exhaustion from work, school, kids, husband??? Can I blame it on perimenopause? (sure. Why not.)

sigh

Funeral...

We stood in the mist and the rain.
The sun did not shine.
The priest made a cross of dirt on the casket.
And when the final words were pronounced,
The words of faith and promise of eternal rest,

The Sun Broke Through.

It somehow seemed appropriate.

We had tears, but they were mostly for ourselves. She is at peace. She rests beside her husband, the one she missed so much.

And tomorrow, after church, there will be no visit to her room to tell her about the music, or the sermon, or the latest funny shenanigans from our cat.

And we will mourn our loss and celebrate her great gain.

Prunes

I emptied out the fridge today. There was a box of prunes. It took me back to my grandmother, who loved to stew prunes until they were un-prune-like. It goes without saying we threw the prunes away. (I think the last time I had them, I was pregnant and constipated up to my eyebrows!)

Her freezer was full of steaks, chicken, ham, pork chops and succotash. Three packs of succotash!!! We debated taking it home, but decided that we would offer it to neighbors. They all politely declined. I guess everyone but her thinks succotash is disgusting. So, with a silent apology to her frugality, I tossed it in the garbage.

Everything we can do in her house has been done as of today. In the next week, people who need the furniture are coming to get it - table and chairs, dresser, couch and coffee table, TV, lamps. It's going to people who need it. It's all good.

And it is so very hard. The last time we turn the key and lock the door, I know I will cry...

She really is gone.

New insight...

God is surely sitting on the Throne...
But the doors to the throneroom are controlled by lawyers.

Sooo....

Guess what we spent ALL FRICKIN DAY doing today???

Three buildings, each in a different zip code. None of them giving the same advice, and none of it free.

Thanks?

sorting and packing

There are three different methods for packing...

1) One is to be logical, thoughtful and careful and put "like things together"...
(This works well if you are packing people who are organized and their stuff is sorted and ready to be packed. I am usually this kind of person. Don't hate.)

2) Another is to pack "things which are next to each other together"...
(Which can be dangerous if you are a "piler" type of person and the closest flat surface is where something "belongs." My older child is this kind of person... so is my husband...)

3) And the third is, "I am sick and tired of packing up someone else's stuff so let's just mark them all MISCELLANEOUS."

I think I am on the third way of packing.

The list goes on...

I don't know... I think I want to sell my house, "as is" and "all contents convey" when I'm about to go see Jesus. There's just so much to do to close out a home...

She did an amazing job of sorting through "stuff"... I shudder at what my children will have to do! (sorry kids...) There's really no piles of "stuff" anywhere to sort, box and bag, but there are collections of things that she couldn't part with because they were "still good."

Under that category, we have:

• hair curlers (three colors, four sizes)
• hair dryers (the old bonnet style? check. TWO of them? check.)
• ironed and folded old (used) wrapping paper
• the bags that the paper came in every morning (about two large shopping bags FULL)
• plastic grocery bags (about 10 bags stuffed FULL)
• twist-ties, neatly sorted by colors into coffee mugs (four mugs FULL)

That last one was what put us over the edge and we laughed until we cried...

But there's a lot of really really good things...

• clothes, shoes, sweaters, coats, belts, socks, panties, bras
• material, thread, findings, scissors
• books, paper, office supplies
• plastic food wraps and bags of every description
• furniture - dressers, bed, sofa, coffee tables, lamps, artwork, desk, chair, kitchen table
• kitchen - microwave, cart, pots, pans, mixer, dishes, silverware

We have to have everything out this week... We're both exhausted.

God gives grace. And provides tissues! She had 8 boxes in a closet. We've wept our way through this...

Oh. One more thing.

I'm a pastor. Not a SINGLE PASTOR that I work with has called, emailed or come to see us. Not a SINGLE PASTOR has sent us a damn flower.

It made me angry. Really angry.

And then it hit me. I'm the one who takes care of the hurting, the grieving and the hospitalized.

Who pastors the pastor??

Hid from life today

We didn't do any clean out today... We didn't sort, fold, pack, pile or toss a single thing. We got Chinese food for dinner and watched a bunch of videos.

Her place is now in the stage of "big mess" and it will take a lot to bring order out of the chaos. It's almost depressing to see how much sorting and stuff is left.

Another frustrating note is that we are looking at her beautiful furniture and trying to decide what to do. It isn't really my style. It's new and extremely well-kept. But I don't want any of it. At. All. And this is causing conflicts.

Tonight I stretched out on the couch and fell asleep... and the kids were nodding off too. We are all just worn down to our last frazzle...

Grief work is hard work...

Lists and more lists

The phone call came about 9:30 last night... and it started a flurry of calls even last night...

Just trying to come to grips with what must be done today... so much to do and think about. But the plus side of the internet and email and Facebook is that we can send out the information quickly and with a few taps of the keyboard, rather than phone call after phone call.

Those calls have been hard enough as it is... Draining. Emotionally numbing. Comforting other people's tears when ours are waiting to fall.

The kids are OK. My schedule is upside down but everyone understands.

I didn't sleep so well last night... but she did.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.
Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

Released...

She passed away tonight at 9 p.m.

About an hour after we left her room...

Blessed be the name of the Lord.

pain management

This was one of the most brutal mornings yet.

We walked in to find her in PAIN!!!! Serious, writing, moaning, PAIN where she couldn't stop to look at us and tell us where she was hurting. She is no longer verbal. She is unable to communicate at all except occasionally with her eyes. Even then, we feel like we are guessing.

We were in tears by the time the pain was knocked off (TWO doses of morphine) and her face slacked and she slept.

The problem with brain cancer is that when your speech goes, you can no way to say MORPHINE NOW, DAMMIT.

And we also had to educate the nursing staff on some (what we thought were) common sense measures... That if she refuses to eat, don't force feed her. Sure, if she wants ice cream. But.. no nasty vitamin drops disguised in applesauce. No taking her blood pressure and waking her up when she is sound asleep.

The only thing harder than knowing the person we know is "gone" is that we know she is in pain...

Psalm 102

A prayer of an afflicted person who has grown weak and pours out a lament before the LORD.

¹ Hear my prayer, LORD;
let my cry for help come to you.

² Do not hide your face from me
when I am in distress.
Turn your ear to me;
when I call, answer me quickly.

³ For my days vanish like smoke;
my bones burn like glowing embers.

⁴ My heart is blighted and withered like grass;
I forget to eat my food.

⁵ In my distress I groan aloud
and am reduced to skin and bones.

⁶ I am like a desert owl,
like an owl among the ruins.

⁷ I lie awake; I have become
like a bird alone on a roof.

Oh God... hear her prayer... hear our prayer... take her home.

Amen.