Not A Fan of Hospitals

Since you’re not still here, this week really put things in perspective for me.

Got all my test results back… really nothing to worry about.  The heart news has been 10 years in the making—I consider my anxiety to be debilitating and it’s a weight off my shoulders to know that I’m at least on the radar with a personal care physician again.

And then I think back to last January, when you had just started chemo.  We thought you had pneumonia in November and by January you were getting chemo and radiation.  It wasn’t a quick trip to the doctor for you to get medicine and tests—you got stuck with a much bigger problem and a worst case scenario.  I had two weeks of testing and diagnoses, you had 8 months of tests and treatments and hail mary’s…

So where do I stand in this?  Probably a mix between lucky and still young enough to be healthy-ish.  Ashamed, because I haven’t kept up with a cardiologist since I was diagnosed 10 years ago.  Guilty, because I kinda got off scott-free in comparison to your journey.  Sad, because I still just miss you so much and you were at the top of the list to call with the test results.  I feel a little bit in limbo because it feels almost like a nightmare that should have ended by now.  Sort-of like this was something we had to endure for a while but we’re just waiting for you to come back from a long vacation or something…

I know we’re all learning to cope a little bit more each day, and I’m grateful for the people who surround me and our family.  We’re lucky for what we had with you and we’re lucky for what we’ve still got.  We’re lucky to get the signs we get from you, and the peace of knowing you’re watching over us.

I know you’re in a better place, and I know you’re doing great and you’re healthy now, but I would give anything to give you a great big hug if you were still here.

Wasn't Expecting A Pep Talk

I would have called you yesterday to tell you that the doctor’s office scheduled me for all kinds of tests.  They want to do an echo to make sure my heart condition isn’t getting worse and a brain MRI to make sure my migraines aren’t worrisome.  You would have told me the same thing mom and dad both told me: that it’s good to take precautions and you’re sure everything will be fine but there’s no way to know until you do the tests.  And then we would have hung up, me pretending to be brave about it and you knowing that I was faking.  I think you always knew when I was just putting on a face, I’m sure most people I’m surrounded by have me figured out in that sense… but it’s nice to pretend all the same because it makes me feel like I’m being strong.

I wasn’t going to write this entry, because it felt like a lot of complaining and being anxious about nothing.  So I started it yesterday and then put it in the junkbox and decided to deal with it on my own.  Last night I think you knew I needed you. 

When I saw you in a dream, I wasn’t expecting it at all.

There you were: gorgeous, healthy, smiling, wearing your Team Ar shirt.  It was just you and me-- like I had made an appointment to sit down and chat with you.  We sat on a big couch facing each other and I poured out my heart and explained that I miss you so much and I’m sorry that I wasn’t a better daughter and companion to you while you were so sick.  I told you I was sorry for not doing a great job down here after you left us.  Every statement I made, you followed with big eye contact and a smile and your voice said a few words.  Very short sentences.  “I’m with you”, “You’re like me”, “Its okay”, “Don’t be sorry”, “You’re doing great”. All I wanted to do was lay down on the couch on your lap, and I could tell you wanted to hug me too, but I was grateful for our conversation at least.  You were so happy and smiley and peaceful and downright beautiful.  I woke up crying because it felt so real.  I was so disappointed to wake up and have our contact be so brief.

I’m choosing to believe that it really was a visit from you.  It was relieving to tell you all the things I wanted to say but haven’t been able to tell you.  And then you made sure I knew you understood and did everything you could to help me feel reassured that you’re okay and you’re not really gone from my life.  You made sure I knew you thought we were all doing a great job and you still love us and you miss us too.  Even with your short sentences, it was so vivid and so comforting.  I could feel you telling me to keep taking care of everyone and that everything really was okay and you were happy and healthy.

I felt guilty crying over it this morning, because it was the best gift I could have gotten from you at this point—to see you and hear you and talk to you.  It just really hit hard how much I miss getting to do that on a regular basis. 

Anyway, thanks for talking to me – I needed it.  And that’s what you would have done if you were still here.

Michael Makes Me Giggle

If you were still here, I know you'd get a kick out of this one. 

One of your "Fab 6" is a proud new business owner. Jeanie and Jason bought Fox's Pizza here in Brookville. 

I tried to clue Michael into this little tidbit. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hey, you know Jeanie and Jason?

Michael: Who?

Me: Jeanie and Jason. Geer. Arlene's friend Jeanie?  Their kids are always running around outside on Walnut Street. 

Michael: Oh. Yeah. What about em. 

Me: They bought Fox's!

Michael: *contemplating* Huh. .... Where are they gonna keep em?

Me: What? Keep what? Not FOXES the ANIMALS...they got FOX'S. Like Fox's Pizza?

Michael: Oh. *clearly not surprised enough to demonstrate understanding* So?

Me: LIKE THEY BOUGHT THE BUSINESS. 

Michael: OH! I couldn't figure out why you were telling me they ordered pizza. Ok! I get it. When did they do that??

And that's how life goes sometimes, with my Michael, and it's pretty funny. You always liked to hear how things were here at our house and liked to read my funny "Living with Finch" statuses on Facebook. 

I would have told you this story in person, and I can picture you giving a full body laugh and saying "That Michael is really something..."  if you were still here. 

Christmas Grace

This is the prayer I said before lunch on Christmas. 

Father God, there is none greater than You.   You are always ready to help in times of trouble.  We praise You.  We thank You, Father, for Your love for us and for sending Your son Jesus to save us. 

We thank You for our family and the love we have for each other.  We are thankful to You for the time we get to spend together. 

And we ask You for peace. We know You comfort those who mourn. We are thankful for the blessings You have given us and we just ask that You send the Holy Spirit to be with us as we grieve for our lost family members. We are thankful for their time on earth and the impact they had on our lives.  As we call on You, we know You have promised to answer.  

Father, we ask You to continue to surround us with family, friends and loved ones this holidays season and hereafter. Please keep us safe in our travels. Please help us to be the light for those around us and help us do Your will. Please bless the food we are about to eat, and all the hands that have prepared it as well as everyone who helped to bring it all together. 

And in Your Son's name, please bless the crooked politicians and keep Donald trump out of the White House.  

In Your holy name we pray, amen. 

Ugh

If you were still here you would realize shit is fucked up. 

It's crazy how you feel fine until you're driving the same road you drove 85% of your life... And then you realize your destination-- your childhood home and your stepmom isn't there. 

It's crazy how you feel fine the whole day surrounded by the people who understand the most what you're feeling-- and then you go to your friend's house and he puts on a Dean Martin Christmas album and you lose your shit because Christmas came and went and the nightmare isn't over. 

It's crazy how you can stuff it all down and keep your insanity in check and you take one look at your heartbroken aunt, father, grandmother, etc and it's not even okay anymore how things aren't fair. 

I'm just saying that no matter what I think I'm prepared for-- I can just about get through it until it's almost over and then I freak out. 

I don't know what's going on or how long it's gonna last but I swear-- I wish you were still here because I would rather be going through it with you than without you. 

Ugh. 

The circle of life

If you were still here, I wouldn't feel angry that I'm sitting in our mother's hospital room by myself. If you were still here, I wouldn't be sitting in our mother's hospital room by myself. I'm so angry that I have to face our parents' aging alone. I know darn well that I'm truly not alone...our dear cousin Fawn spent the weekend with me even though she has way more than enough on her plate already. I know that I can count on my husband, and your husband and kids, and our countless family and friends who have been so incredible for the last year of our lives. I know how lucky I am to have so many wonderful people in my life, but I'm still angry and sad that you're not here.

If you were still here, you would appreciate the fact that West Penn Hospital has the best gummy bears in the history of gummy bears, and we would've laughed so hard trying to figure out exactly what flavor each color was. You would've been just as excited about the plethora of flavors as I was. I miss having someone who gets just as excited over the little things in life as I do.

If you were still here, I wouldn't have cried like a baby when they brought Mom up from recovery because I was having flashbacks to seeing you in that hospital bed. If you were still here, I wouldn't have had to spend the last week mentally preparing my son to see his nana in a hospital bed; to make sure he is fully aware of the fact that nana is just getting her foot fixed, and that she will get better and come home rather than going to heaven.

If you were still here, I wouldn't feel the need to talk about you so much in front of Kirkland. He would be able to talk to you and play with you and do fun things with you. Instead, we blow you a kiss in heaven every night and I talk about you constantly and show him pictures so that he remembers the fun times we shared, not just the time you spent in the hospital. My biggest fear is that he'll forget you and he won't remember the wonderful person that was his Auntie Ar.

If you were still here, you would be so excited to stay at Paige's new house with me tonight. You would've been so proud of the vase of flowers that she arranged herself and brought to mom yesterday. You would've likely rearranged said vase of flowers upon her departure, but you would've commented on what a good kid she was for coming to see us. If you were still here, you would insist that we stop to find a gift for her new house, to thank her for letting us stay there. And only you could walk in a store and find the most perfect thing to buy her.

You have no idea how many times I wanted to apologize to Mom because God chose me as the daughter to keep here on earth. I am nowhere near as kind or as strong or as wonderful as you were. I don't think of everything and plan ahead for every situation. I don't do anything as well as you did...I'm trying really hard, but I'm just not you. If you were still here we could laugh at my inadequacies, instead of me crying about them. I love you and miss you so badly it hurts. I just wish so badly that you were still here...

Under Pressure

If you were still here I wouldn't be crying all alone in my bed because I miss you.  If you were still here I would have been 100% happy tonight on my surprise date with Brandon. If you were still here I would have called you today to ask you if the hotel I chose for the wedding room block was the right choice. But you're not here... So I am crying uncontrollably alone and I doubted all day whether I made the right choice, And I had to hold back the tears that I wanted to cry at dinner... People tell me I'm supposed to let myself grieve but when am I supposed to do that? I feel the pressure of having to go to work everyday with a smile on my face and I have to be energetic and motivating for my residents because you can't be a good wellness coordinator if you just cry all the time and can't even teach your classes... So I shut my sadness off cuz there isn't time for that with a full time job.  I am engaged to a wonderful man and so I have a wedding to plan... this is supposed to be one of the happiest times of my life... I don't have time to cry anytime I feel like it so it's easier to pretend like everything doesn't suck and just keep living life. I am away from all the people that knew you and loved you as much as I do so i feel like no one understands and I'm the only one suffering so it easier to pretend like I'm not suffering at all. How am I supposed to find time to get through this? And that's the worst part, I'm never going to because when you died, you took a part of my heart with you that I won't get back this side of heaven.  I know it's selfish but I wish you were here so I didn't have to deal with any of this.