Tag: #family

  • Still Dealing with It (Unedited)

    (This isn’t a review on The Pitt, though I might do one at a later date. Anyway, I just wanted to state that at the start.)

    When my daughter was born, I discovered that all of my emotions were right at the surface. It didn’t take much to make me cry; my baby girl holding my finger, or falling asleep on me would cause a gush of joyous tears out of me. But I also began to notice that commercials that had to do with parents and kids would make a big softy outta me. I even cried watching a Simpsons when Marge sang a lullaby to Bart. I wouldn’t call this state sensitive, nor thin skinned, but it was a state where I felt that it was very easy to tap into what I was feeling. Maybe everything didn’t make me cry, but I was able to feel everything. I learned to control it, but “control” isn’t the right word – I learned to work with it, might be a better description.

    The only other time I felt that way was when my mother was in the hospital, and the fear of her death made me and my whole family exist without much of an emotional filter. When the doctor confirmed that she was, in fact, going to die and there was nothing that could be done to save her, what littler filter we had dissipated. One moment we would be normal and having a conversation, and then something would snap, and we would just explode in tears – just loud painful sobs. Then it would pass, only soon at any moment we would again break in sobs, tears of grief. After she passed, we all dealt with her death in our own ways; each person’s mourning was their own. We were there for each other, but we all took different paths in dealing with it.

    For me, I just tried to plow ahead. I had a kid to take care of and a family to provide for. I was left feeling sad all the time for about two years. Not so many tears after that first year, but on special days, holidays, birthdays; the sadness would return, but anger started showing up for me as well. I have been trying to work through my anger and sadness. I through myself into art, creative outlets, and putting a few additional pictures of my mother up around the home. It’s been almost seven years, and talking about her doesn’t hurt anymore, which I know is a sign of progress.

    But there are a few areas that I know I have been avoiding, or not processing well. One of the oddest manifestations of my avoidance is that I pretty much won’t watch medical shows. Anything with doctors or hospitals, I will come up with a reason not to watch it. I won’t even watch reruns of M*A*S*H or ER. And I know 100% why, and it’s because I don’t want to relive any of those feelings of watching my mother slowly die in a hospital bed.

    But I am a huge ER fan, and curiosity got the better of me and I started watching The Pitt, and sure as shit there is a story line about an elderly father not wanting to be intubated to stay alive, and his adult children over rule his wishes. The show didn’t shy away from showing the pain and discomfort the father was in, as well as showing the confusion, guilt, shame, and fear of having to make end of life decision for your parents.

    The situation in the show was not exactly like the one me and my family went through with my mother, but it was painfully close enough. And as I watched the story unfold, the vice in my head kept telling me to shut it off, it was late, go to bed, you have an early morning, reliving your pain won’t help… But I pushed though it. I let myself go back there. Feel it again; the fear and pain, and numbness and rawness and confusion – sometimes not knowing how I was going to survive this. How was I going to keep living without my mother? How was I going to live with this loss, this pain, all of this that will never go away?

    I sat on my couch at 1am and just cried for a while. I don’t even know if the show was that good, but I know I let something out that I haven’t been acknowledging existed in the first place. I have been dodging that final week of my mother’s life. That week where she was in a hospice bed with a morphine drip, and it was my mother but it wasn’t. She wasn’t there, and we just listened to her breathing with everything and nothing passing through my head. I sat there watching her dying, and we all spoke to her, but she was never going to respond back to us. I just wanted my mom to touch my hand and tell me that she loved me, but that moment had passed. All I could do was watch and wait, and it was so painful.

    I am still processing, and a dear friend did say to me that we never stop processing losing a parent; it just becomes a part of who we are. I think they’re right, and I love them for their honesty with me. I still have places and emotions I need to work through. Recesses that refuse to come into the light of day. I know where they are, and what they are. Just not always ready to deal with them yet.

    I will.

    In time.

  • Rainy Day New York Thoughts

    Rainy Day New York Thoughts

    I got up at 5:30 this morning, which is normal for a school day, and it was raining. It was the kind of raining that isn’t hard, but steady, and it whispers quietly, yet firmly, that I should go back to bed. I didn’t, but oh lord, did I get close to closing my eyes on the couch as the coffee brewed. The wife didn’t want to get out of bed, and neither did the dog. When I went to wake the kid, it only took her a second to register the sound, and quickly ask if she could also stay in bed.

    We all fought through it. We ate breakfast and dressed, and collected backpacks and a lunch bag. We walked to the subway in rain. We rode to our stop and walked to school in the rain. I ran errands, and did laundry at the local laundromat in the rain. The rain has made my clothes from this morning damp.

    It’s not that cold of a day, but the building’s steam heat is on, and to cool the apartment, we have to crack the windows. That has let the sound of the rain in, as well as a little more dampness. The influence of the rain, the mood of the rain, has creeped into our home, and is begging me to take a nap. Maybe read a book? Then take a nap? I should take a nap…

    As of now, it’s still raining, but it should taper off by the time I have to go get the kid. Walking around the neighborhood of her school, I’ll pass the brownstones with their wet stoops. It will stay cool out, like an early Spring day should, and the feeling of being a little lazy will hang off of everything.

  • Man, Am I Tired

    Not sure what happened. I went to bed at my normal-ish time last night. I did stay up and watch the Oscars, so maybe that had something to do with it.

    I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the Oscars, but it has been over 15 years since I have seen all the best picture nominees, let alone half of them. But I am a movie fan, and I like the spectacle, and it is something fun to debate with friends, and I wanted to see what Conan would do. With all of that said, it was a rather dull affair. My kid wanted to stay up and watch it with me, which I agreed to, but she was out by 9pm.

    When the Oscars were over, and the kid off to bed, I started to watch Becket. I hadn’t seen it since high school, and I didn’t get too far into it. I found Peter O’Toole’s Henry II grating on my nerves, which I understand was the point. Then I thought about watching Lion in Winter, which is also about Henry II but at the end of his life and with succession being the driver of that plot. Though Lion in Winter is not a sequel to Becket, with O’Toole playing Henry II in both films, it sort of very loosely, kind’a is.

    I bring all of this up for no other reason than it occurred to me last night.

    And this morning, I just felt off. Very tired, a little anxious, and all around uneasy about myself and the day before me. The last time I felt like this was when I was working a particular job that I started to despise, and knew it was time for me to leave. But I couldn’t pin down why I was feeling this way, especially on a day like today.

    But there is a very harsh reality with being the age that I am and also having responsibilities of my family; I had to push through it. I had to make breakfast for the gang. I had to get people up and on their way. I had to do laundry and clean up. I had to making chicken stock for dinner, and lunch for the wife. In a little bit, I will take that chicken stock and tech my kid how to make Greek Lemon Soup.

    I just have to keep pushing through, but that feeling hasn’t gone away today.

  • Spending the Night

    The kid is at the age of “Peek Sleepovers.” Such as, the success or failure of a weekend can be determined if a sleepover occurs, regardless if the sleepover is a success or not. The kid has taken part in a few “slumber birthday parties,” and a weekend away with a friend whose family has a place out of the City. I do use the term “Peek” not only because the kid is super excited about having a sleepover, but also because the kids are still at the age where they will go to bed at a relatively decent hour, so we can all get some sleep. Once they get to middle school age, then it turns into staying up all night and watching movies, and there is no guarantee that I or the wife will be able to get any rest. But, as of now, the kid is happy, and that makes everyone happy.

    There other thing that I am happy for is that the kid has no issues with spending the night and being away from us. Not all kids are like that.

    I wasn’t – I went through phases though. When I was little, I had no problem sleeping over. Then somewhere around nine, it began to bother me being away from home. Like the first few hours would be fine, then all of a sudden, a feeling of dread came over me, like I would never see my family again, or ever be happy. I know that I was feeling home sick, and that’s natural, but the feeling was so controlling and paralyzing, and the only thing I could think of was getting home. And then when I got home, I was overcome with shame, that I didn’t have the courage of strength to spend the night, and, you know, be a normal kid. When friends would invite me over to spend the night, I would come up with excuses why I couldn’t.

    Then, it just all went away. The fear, the anxiety, all of it was just gone. I remember it was 6th grade, and I was over at my friend David’s house with some other kids. We all stayed for dinner, and then his parents said if we wanted to spend the night we could. There clearly was a bit of it was peer pressure to stay over, but also, I didn’t get that sinking feeling in my stomach. I remember calling my parents to ask if I could stay, and my mother asking me over and over and over if I was sure I wanted to do this. I said that I was, and then not thinking about it again. I ran home and grabbed some clothes and a sleeping bag, and I was just excited to hang out with friends, and stay up all night.

    I think we watched “Let’s Get Harry” on Cinemax because we thought it was a dirty movie. It’s not a dirty movie, it’s just a really bad and dull movie.

  • It’s Beginning to Feel A Lot Like Thanksgiving

    Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I love the whole thing. From big family gatherings, to small family gatherings, to couples Thanksgiving, to friends-Thanksgiving, and any other combination you can throw together. Thanksgiving, with roots that go back to the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag, revived by Lincoln during the Civil War, and in our modern-day form of “That Day We Eat Before We Get Up Early to Shop,” this is a holiday that will continuously evolves to fit our needs.

    For me, it is the food holiday with a huge helping of all-day relaxing. In my little family, we buy new pajamas and spend all of Thanksgiving in them. We eat homemade cinnamon rolls, watch the parade, cook, snack, drink, and eat when the food is ready. There is no set time, we eat when we eat. Some years it’s early, sometimes late, but whatever the year, it is always relaxed and is what it is.

    This year, we have already bought our pajamas. The menu is planned, and we just have yet to do the final shopping. The decorations are out, and in place. The kid has a real job this year; she is putting together the charcutier board, and she is very excited. And, I am more excited about watching the Lions than the Cowboys. So, how’s that for a change.

    But, as I get older, it becomes more apparent that the Thanksgiving holiday is a limited resource in my life. I never doubt that each year I will have something, if not a great many things, to be thankful for. It’s just that I know that it will, eventually, change. Now, change isn’t always bad. Every year we have the chance to add to our family and friends, and welcome new people to our table. I try to be thankful, each year, that I have the people that I have in my life.