Thursday, June 23, 2005
surreal
So, here we are in extremely sunny AZ. Loopy & I both feel like we've been run over by an oven.
Mom has surgery tomorrow to align her neck vertebrae. It seems to be pretty straightforward surgery, no likely complications etc., although the neck is of course a vulnerable area & anything's possible. Anyway, drama queen that she is, she seems to be convinced that she's going to die, and at the same time, determined to be brave for the family. So she alternates between assuring us all that this is no big deal, and then having "slips of the tongue" like "if I come home from the hospital" (instead of "when").
I probably have a lot of mixed feelings about this but I'm not really letting it in that much at the moment. I'm just sorta like, ok, let's just get through this. I'm more worried that Dad is going to have a stroke while I'm alone with him in the apartment.
So anyway, I just put a CD of my grandmother's favorite hymns on the CD player. Mom had it put together by a musician friend from old recordings, including ones from Mom's sister's and brother's and of course mother's funerals (starting with "O Death Where Is Thy Sting," etc.). They're all sung by dear friends from the past, etc.
It's freaking me out a little that I'm so detached about this. I just feel like I'm doing "my job," including doing stuff that Mom might find comforting. I'm like, "oh, good, she's crying and saying random things about what a wonderful life she's had, so that was a good thing to do." But I don't really feel much right now. I'm not even in the same room with her (literally).
But then that's the thing with her. She doesn't connect anyway. So what's the point of me getting emotional. She wouldn't find that comforting, just anxiety-producing, because she'd know she was supposed to respond to me somehow and wouldn't be sure what was the right response. But the CD, that's just right.
This is just really weird.
Did I mention that while she's having surgery, Dad & I have to go to a funeral of one of his best friends? He's a pallbearer.
That's what really puts it over the top into surreal weird freakiness.
Tune in later for more dispatches from surreality....
Mom has surgery tomorrow to align her neck vertebrae. It seems to be pretty straightforward surgery, no likely complications etc., although the neck is of course a vulnerable area & anything's possible. Anyway, drama queen that she is, she seems to be convinced that she's going to die, and at the same time, determined to be brave for the family. So she alternates between assuring us all that this is no big deal, and then having "slips of the tongue" like "if I come home from the hospital" (instead of "when").
I probably have a lot of mixed feelings about this but I'm not really letting it in that much at the moment. I'm just sorta like, ok, let's just get through this. I'm more worried that Dad is going to have a stroke while I'm alone with him in the apartment.
So anyway, I just put a CD of my grandmother's favorite hymns on the CD player. Mom had it put together by a musician friend from old recordings, including ones from Mom's sister's and brother's and of course mother's funerals (starting with "O Death Where Is Thy Sting," etc.). They're all sung by dear friends from the past, etc.
It's freaking me out a little that I'm so detached about this. I just feel like I'm doing "my job," including doing stuff that Mom might find comforting. I'm like, "oh, good, she's crying and saying random things about what a wonderful life she's had, so that was a good thing to do." But I don't really feel much right now. I'm not even in the same room with her (literally).
But then that's the thing with her. She doesn't connect anyway. So what's the point of me getting emotional. She wouldn't find that comforting, just anxiety-producing, because she'd know she was supposed to respond to me somehow and wouldn't be sure what was the right response. But the CD, that's just right.
This is just really weird.
Did I mention that while she's having surgery, Dad & I have to go to a funeral of one of his best friends? He's a pallbearer.
That's what really puts it over the top into surreal weird freakiness.
Tune in later for more dispatches from surreality....
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3 comments:
>>It's freaking me out a little that I'm so detached about this. I just feel like I'm doing "my job..."<<
The resources of calm that can come out under stress are amazing, especially when you find yourself parenting a parent.
Thinking about you and hoping that whatever is happening right now, all's ok. Or as ok as it can be, anyhow.
you know i'm here, my friend... call me if you think you'll get a chnace to bolt and hang out. i'll buy the chardonnay.
love- chrissy
*hugs*
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