Anyone who has ever negotiated with a two year old will tell you straight up that given viable choices ( and not too many ) decision making is simple and much easier than the "because I said so" tactic. This why I've been eyeing the GOP just to see if they can come up with a non-idiot. Rubio seems like the one in that respect and I've been watching him for over a year. I still consider myself a progressive and will vote that way but sometimes you just have to look at damage control to keep sanity. If the clown car takes off, we're done for as a country. I chatted with a friend who is in my state congressional district about you know who with the storefront office on the square and he said he seems to be unbeatable BUT his term is up this year. A Democrat would only receive around 30% of the vote regardless so we talked about less toxic Republican options. There's one to watch, even though Fincher has his finger in every farmer's field in West Tennessee.
My house looks like something from a TV reality show combining hoarders and remodeling. The yard is scattered with trash because honestly? I pretty much gave up until there was some action toward improvement. My view inside hasn't changed in 28 years except for an occasional coat of paint with me behind the brush. The ancient ex- front door was propped up on the porch and blew over during the night so there's glass to step over. It's a hot mess, I'm telling you. The plan is to bring a trailer up here when it's over and clean UP!
Still, I am numb. A friend at work told me that she didn't realize how tired she was until her husband died after 7 years of caretaking. That's about where I am so I'm not pushing. The tears that would normally be flowing right now of anguish and loss were shed over the last six months because when Mama left that house, it was over in her book. She liked MR and all, but that was home to her. I remember her soulful cries over losing both her house and husband in six short weeks. I had to stay away for awhile because I was pretty much the devil.
Once it happened, she adjusted quickly only to break her wrist two weeks in. That meant limited mobility for six weeks and then she was able to use the walker again. I'll never forget watching her trudge across that steep hill to Daddy's grave so she could "see" the stone. It took KK and me both to get her to the graveside in a wheelchair at his burial. Things went well until that Sunday in church when she fell and as Dr. A said, the death knell tolled. A broken hip at 82 is like a death sentence unless you are basically healthy, which she was not. CHF was an ever present reality and she was in renal failure. Repeated anesthesia is hard for anyone's body, but especially the elderly.
Her spirit remained until the end. Daddy was pretty much asleep after hospice began but she was in and out of consciousness sometimes in pain and often running the world. We gathered as a little tribe during those final days to help her figure it all out and I'm not sure she ever did. We know for sure that Ativan was a bad choice and Dilaudid was good. Valium works just fine too. As the infection worsened her body couldn't fight it off, even with top gun antibiotics. It was then that it became a wake of sorts. The three people that could calm her better than anybody else are Millette and T and precious Dell and they have the same effect on me.
The ugly cry has commenced and it feels good to let go.
With faith ~