Some Random Thoughts Before the New Year
For New Year's, we are giving you a guest blog, my bro-in-law, Stu. Enjoy!
I don't know why I'm up. But here I am, plowing through my e-mail and having some of those "deep thoughts" that seem to happen when the world is asleep and I'm alone in my head...
I got a "mulligan," of sorts, in 1985. That's when I married my wife, Janette. Not only did I gain a one-of-a-kind, mind-bogglingly incredible wife, but she came with what turned out to be some equally incredible parents; my in-laws. I think I'd have been pretty impressed with them even if I'd met them some other way, because they both were constantly DOING. Dad was the most persistent of men, doggedly pushing forward, regardless of the obstacles. He had patience aplenty, and was always doing something for other people; reading for the blind, teaching English as a second language to various immigrant groups, visiting elementary school kids... if there was a way to help someone within his reach, he never failed to grasp it, and do so with glee. Nobody has been such an inspiration to me over the course of my life since the days I watched in awe as John Glenn, Gordon Cooper, Ed White, Neil Armstrong, Chuck Yeager made headlines doing what every little boy wished they could do, too.
But what I referred to earlier was my mother-in-law. I'd lost my own back in 1979 or so, and it's not every day that you get a replacement mom. It's also not every day when a lucky young groom hits the jackpot with a mother-in-law he's crazy about. Of course, it didn't start out that way. Mom is a very traditional person, from the school of "work hard, save your money and follow the rules." She spent years working in banking, and she also managed to raise her two daughters and one adopted son and keep up her homes, the first in Detroit and then, in 1976 or so, a relatively huge two-story home in Troy. Me, being a self-employed DJ who hasn't punched a clock in about as long as she'd been in her home, must've been a lot like the George Thorogood song, "Get A Haircut": "They took one look at me and said, 'OH MY GOD! Get a haircut, and get a real job!'" But they never, EVER made me feel unwelcome. Not once. They were always the warmest, positive and inclusive people from where I sat, inviting me over each weekend for dinner and concerned if, for some reason, I was unable to make it. I once asked Dad, I forget when, why it was they had opened their home so willingly and treated me the way they did. He said, simply, "You make my daughter happy." I knew right then one more thing we both shared: an unconditional love for Janette.
And yes, some of those dinners had mom quipping about my maybe thinking about taking some job or other, or offering to pay for some classes for this or that, or dad saving some classified ad he thought I might want to respond to. They never really did understand my job as a DJ until the day I donated my services to Janette's sister, Chris, when she got married. I didn't realize it, but mom and dad had watched me from the moment I had arrived and began setting up my equipment until the time I announced the last song of the night, and dad was the first to come up and show me how impressed he was. He handed me a lump of cash and would not hear of it when I refused it; he insisted, telling me that they'd had no idea of what I really did. From that point on, the job talk ended for the most part.
FROM RELATIVE TO FRIEND
I only saw them in a group setting, though, so mom was always a bit aloof. It really is hard to get to know someone on a personal level when other people are always around, especially with a personalty like mom's, who loved to entertain and was always focused on her guests. So it came as quite a shock later on when it became clear we were actual friends! Sadly, this discovery happened in a way that nobody should ever have to experience; mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. At first, mom might repeat herself. She'd even catch herself doing it and laugh about it. But over time, it got worse, and she also lost the ability to drive. Janette had to hold down her weekday job, so it often fell to me to drive mom around to her doctor's appointments, go to the grocery store, or to take her to get her hair done. Dad had passed away some time ago, and even though she never said so, it was obvious that she was happy for the company, too. So, in short, we started "hanging out." There were side trips to her favorite garden supply store, which necessitated having to spend some time in her garden -- something she and dad both loved to do. There were lunches -- she always insisted -- and side trips to places like Pier One, Baskin Robbins or JoAnn Fabrics. Then it happened: I remember looking over the table when we were having lunch at Wendy's and thinking, 'if we'd have been in the same class in school, we would have been friends.' I had no doubt. It was an odd discovery to make about someone I'd known for well over 20 years!
I can't help but think of all of this now, because things have taken a hard turn for the worst. Her memory disease has progressed to the point where she has moved into an assisted living facility. Her memory is hit-and-miss, and she often mistakes Janette for someone else. I've actually teared-up because, through all of this, she has yet to forget who I am. (Although she does sometimes do a double-check: "you're married to Janette, right?") It's been tough to witness the ever energetic woman who used to tire me out just watching her as she flitted about her house, tending to guests, cooking and cleaning up, slowly shuffle through the hallways of her new environment with that unfocused gaze common to people with the disease. It's even tougher when you can see her become confused and scared, barely holding back the urge to panic. And then the glint of recognition crosses her face and her breathing returns to normal. This time.
Just before the holiday, her care facility called to tell us that mom was having trouble walking. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital where they began some tests. At first everything looked normal, and mom even began to move around a bit more normally. Further testing, though, showed signs of elevated liver enzymes, symptomatic of maybe a gall stone, which is common to women her age. Yet a CT scan showed something else: an odd texture to her liver. More tests and a biopsy returned nothing but bad news: cancer. In mom's weakened state, things like chemotherapy and radiation are not an option. Additionally, mom has a DNR order, so there will be no "heroic action." Once again, I'm about to lose a mom. And a really good friend.
Janette and her sister share a blog where they rant, vent and virtually work through their thoughts and feelings. In fact, because of the support network for caregivers, they've gotten an impressive number of followers! But me... well, I just put my feelings here, on a blog that exists only for me and that hardly anyone reads. Which is fine. It both suits and serves me. Only this time, maybe... just maybe... I would love the story of just how great my mother-in-law, Diane, really is to get out. And it will, I suppose, as the sisters will see to that. It's truly a double-edged sword; I've been so incredibly lucky to have had TWO great women I can call "mom." But how "lucky" is it to lose them both? At least this time, I'll get it right. She knows I love her; I didn't miss an opportunity to tell her or to show her. Janette and I will hold her hand to the last second, if she'll let us.
May 2014 be better for everyone than any past year ever!
May 2014 be better for everyone than any past year ever!
I don't know why I'm up. But here I am, plowing through my e-mail and having some of those "deep thoughts" that seem to happen when the world is asleep and I'm alone in my head...
I got a "mulligan," of sorts, in 1985. That's when I married my wife, Janette. Not only did I gain a one-of-a-kind, mind-bogglingly incredible wife, but she came with what turned out to be some equally incredible parents; my in-laws. I think I'd have been pretty impressed with them even if I'd met them some other way, because they both were constantly DOING. Dad was the most persistent of men, doggedly pushing forward, regardless of the obstacles. He had patience aplenty, and was always doing something for other people; reading for the blind, teaching English as a second language to various immigrant groups, visiting elementary school kids... if there was a way to help someone within his reach, he never failed to grasp it, and do so with glee. Nobody has been such an inspiration to me over the course of my life since the days I watched in awe as John Glenn, Gordon Cooper, Ed White, Neil Armstrong, Chuck Yeager made headlines doing what every little boy wished they could do, too.
But what I referred to earlier was my mother-in-law. I'd lost my own back in 1979 or so, and it's not every day that you get a replacement mom. It's also not every day when a lucky young groom hits the jackpot with a mother-in-law he's crazy about. Of course, it didn't start out that way. Mom is a very traditional person, from the school of "work hard, save your money and follow the rules." She spent years working in banking, and she also managed to raise her two daughters and one adopted son and keep up her homes, the first in Detroit and then, in 1976 or so, a relatively huge two-story home in Troy. Me, being a self-employed DJ who hasn't punched a clock in about as long as she'd been in her home, must've been a lot like the George Thorogood song, "Get A Haircut": "They took one look at me and said, 'OH MY GOD! Get a haircut, and get a real job!'" But they never, EVER made me feel unwelcome. Not once. They were always the warmest, positive and inclusive people from where I sat, inviting me over each weekend for dinner and concerned if, for some reason, I was unable to make it. I once asked Dad, I forget when, why it was they had opened their home so willingly and treated me the way they did. He said, simply, "You make my daughter happy." I knew right then one more thing we both shared: an unconditional love for Janette.
And yes, some of those dinners had mom quipping about my maybe thinking about taking some job or other, or offering to pay for some classes for this or that, or dad saving some classified ad he thought I might want to respond to. They never really did understand my job as a DJ until the day I donated my services to Janette's sister, Chris, when she got married. I didn't realize it, but mom and dad had watched me from the moment I had arrived and began setting up my equipment until the time I announced the last song of the night, and dad was the first to come up and show me how impressed he was. He handed me a lump of cash and would not hear of it when I refused it; he insisted, telling me that they'd had no idea of what I really did. From that point on, the job talk ended for the most part.
FROM RELATIVE TO FRIEND
I only saw them in a group setting, though, so mom was always a bit aloof. It really is hard to get to know someone on a personal level when other people are always around, especially with a personalty like mom's, who loved to entertain and was always focused on her guests. So it came as quite a shock later on when it became clear we were actual friends! Sadly, this discovery happened in a way that nobody should ever have to experience; mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. At first, mom might repeat herself. She'd even catch herself doing it and laugh about it. But over time, it got worse, and she also lost the ability to drive. Janette had to hold down her weekday job, so it often fell to me to drive mom around to her doctor's appointments, go to the grocery store, or to take her to get her hair done. Dad had passed away some time ago, and even though she never said so, it was obvious that she was happy for the company, too. So, in short, we started "hanging out." There were side trips to her favorite garden supply store, which necessitated having to spend some time in her garden -- something she and dad both loved to do. There were lunches -- she always insisted -- and side trips to places like Pier One, Baskin Robbins or JoAnn Fabrics. Then it happened: I remember looking over the table when we were having lunch at Wendy's and thinking, 'if we'd have been in the same class in school, we would have been friends.' I had no doubt. It was an odd discovery to make about someone I'd known for well over 20 years!
I can't help but think of all of this now, because things have taken a hard turn for the worst. Her memory disease has progressed to the point where she has moved into an assisted living facility. Her memory is hit-and-miss, and she often mistakes Janette for someone else. I've actually teared-up because, through all of this, she has yet to forget who I am. (Although she does sometimes do a double-check: "you're married to Janette, right?") It's been tough to witness the ever energetic woman who used to tire me out just watching her as she flitted about her house, tending to guests, cooking and cleaning up, slowly shuffle through the hallways of her new environment with that unfocused gaze common to people with the disease. It's even tougher when you can see her become confused and scared, barely holding back the urge to panic. And then the glint of recognition crosses her face and her breathing returns to normal. This time.
Just before the holiday, her care facility called to tell us that mom was having trouble walking. She was taken by ambulance to the hospital where they began some tests. At first everything looked normal, and mom even began to move around a bit more normally. Further testing, though, showed signs of elevated liver enzymes, symptomatic of maybe a gall stone, which is common to women her age. Yet a CT scan showed something else: an odd texture to her liver. More tests and a biopsy returned nothing but bad news: cancer. In mom's weakened state, things like chemotherapy and radiation are not an option. Additionally, mom has a DNR order, so there will be no "heroic action." Once again, I'm about to lose a mom. And a really good friend.
Janette and her sister share a blog where they rant, vent and virtually work through their thoughts and feelings. In fact, because of the support network for caregivers, they've gotten an impressive number of followers! But me... well, I just put my feelings here, on a blog that exists only for me and that hardly anyone reads. Which is fine. It both suits and serves me. Only this time, maybe... just maybe... I would love the story of just how great my mother-in-law, Diane, really is to get out. And it will, I suppose, as the sisters will see to that. It's truly a double-edged sword; I've been so incredibly lucky to have had TWO great women I can call "mom." But how "lucky" is it to lose them both? At least this time, I'll get it right. She knows I love her; I didn't miss an opportunity to tell her or to show her. Janette and I will hold her hand to the last second, if she'll let us.
May 2014 be better for everyone than any past year ever!
May 2014 be better for everyone than any past year ever!