RIP My Grandma Brown

About twelve hours after my last post, I found out that my grandmother passed away that day. She was the same grandmother I went to see at the beginning of October.

She was released from the hospital earlier in the day after being in for almost a week with pneumonia. My grandfather came by three times that day to check on her, and the first time she was really grouchy, so he said he'd let her rest. He came back twice, and both times she was sleeping. Eventually they realized she wasn't breathing and began CPR even though she was DNR. My aunt walked in at that point. All in all, her heart gave out.

Her funeral was beautiful and fit for my Grandma with a rainy day and tons of flowers. She would've wanted as much drama and love shown as possible. She loved attention and for people to take care of her. We made several jokes about it, but nonetheless, that was my grandma.

I feel so badly for my grandfather. He's lived alone now for seven months since she's been in the nursing home, but he's gone to see her every single day and sometimes twice a day. He said several times that she's better off because she was so sick. On Wednesday he was reading the paper and saw her name and just broke down into tears. He would think of something that he needed to tell Grandma or take to her and then get choked up. After seeing her on Wednesday in the funeral home, he was in a daze. He stared off into space and said, "Her blush was too dark." I went up there to talk to the funeral director about it, and upon seeing her...I just can't describe it. It didn't feel real. She didn't look like my grandmother. She was cold. Her glasses were missing. Her face was almost skeletal. Her lipstick was a tad too pink. Her eyebrows were too dark. Her face was too relaxed. She was too thin. She just wasn't right.

Before I realized what I was saying, I called out, "Please, Grandma, wake up." I touched her hand as if to startle her. I kissed her forehead and left.

She's no longer sick. She's at peace.

I love you, Grandma.

August 2004

June 2008

Hello...hello...hello....

I promise I haven't fallen off the face of the planet. I've just been balls to the wall busy at work and trying to prepare for the upcoming holidays and Mary's birthday. Here's a quick synapsis:

-I was unable to attend my Aunt's funeral due to costs and time, but my mom's husband put him cell phone on the altar, and I was able to hear the whole thing. One of the first songs they played was "I Can Only Imagine," and I broke down. Her untimely death has had such an affect on me and my family. I'm questioning things that I should be more firm about...faith, existence, if He's truly "all-knowing..." this is very, very tough. This topic definitely deserves more than just four sentences, but maybe another day.

-Remember that crazy douchebag Keith at work (I dedicated Douchebag Thursdays to him on my old blog)? Well, he went over the deep end and is now out on disability. Guess who gets to be a part of picking up the slack? Me. Those mother fuckers had the nerve to tell me yesterday, "You got promoted without a raise." I kindly told them, "I don't take promotions without raises." We'll see what happens on Monday. That fool Keith made $43.20/hour. I DAMN SURE deserve a cut of what they're not paying him anymore.

-We've decided on The Backyardigans as the theme for Mary's birthday. I wanted to avoid a cartoon-y theme (thanks for the ideas, Holly!), but Dick thought we should have something she'll recognize. There will be people here that she has never met, and I want some part of it to be comforting for her. I'm currently making the invitations (that MUST go out, like, no later than Wednesday), and MIL has painted 4-foot versions of each character. They are SUPER cute, and I can't wait to get them. I've decided on cupcakes, crudites, and juice for food. I'm getting a pinata (more than likely pull-string), and we're going to paint t-shirts. I hope this turns out well. I'm pretty nervous.

-I've already completed Christmas shopping for my siblings and picked up a few things for my MIL, FIL, and SIL. I'm making calendars of Mary for the grandparents (and one for myself). I'm hoping Dick gives me his list ASAP. I'm still doing a little research and looking around for Mary's gifts. I'm still not sure what else to get my parents. Ireally do love Christmas, but some of these people are hard to buy for.

-We're heading to Oklahoma for Thanksgiving in a week and a half. I'm looking forward to it, but it will be so hard. I think I mentioned before that Thanksgiving Day would have been my Aunt Cindy's 46th birthday (as opposed to 48th which I think I may have said before). I am, however, looking forward to being away from work.

-Mary is growing so fast! She started crawling the second week in October. She's pulling herself up to standing now and can stand without holding on for several seconds. She'll cruise along the furniture, too. She's gotten two more teeth in. The first two were her bottom front teeth, but the next two that came in...her top canines! She looks like a little vampire. She's feeding herself very well (with her fingers, obviously). Did I mention she has separation anxiety? When MIL was here, I couldn't leave the room without her freaking out. If MIL was out of the room, she would be perfectly fine. Crazy. I'm still looking for that pause button...you know, the pause her life button. ;)

-My mom, her hubs, my brother, and sisters will be coming up here the weekend of Mary's birthday. It will be pure insanity.

-Dick's parents, sister, and soon-to-be brother-in-law will be here for Christmas. It will be pure insanity.

-We're officially going on our first long road trip since having Mary in February. We're heading to FL to see the in-laws and stopping in GA to see Mary's great-grandmother. I'm looking forward to the time off.

-Therapy is going. It's helping. Neither of our familys know yet. I just don't need anyone judging my craziness.

-Mary's first Halloween went well! It was really cold, so I made her a "wig" out of fleece complete with Tinkerbell bun. It turned out pretty damn cute, if I say so myself.

Mary is getting pissed...she needs my attention. I hope to be back on a regular schedule soon.

RIP My sweet Aunt Cindy

God took a perfect angel into Heaven last night.

My Aunt Cindy died. She was a wonderful woman. She and her husband were on their motorcycle on their way home, and someone ran a stop sign and hit them. Both my aunt and her husband were killed. I don't know anymore than that, and I don't want to. The scenarios in my head are bad enough.

God, it pains me to just sit here and write about her. She was truly wonderful. I haven't seen her since Thanksgiving 2006, but we've emailed some and talked on the phone. I was looking forward to seeing her this Thanksgiving. I'm not excited about going home to Oklahoma anymore. Thanksgiving day would've been her 48th birthday.

Her husband was a good man. They met back in high school but went their separate ways. In 2004, they started dating (she after two failed marriages, him after one). On October 8 of that year, they were married (the following year on the same day, I got married). He let her be HERSELF. She hadn't ever had someone treat her so well. They were a perfect fit.

She had an unbelieveable faith in God. I can only hope that one day God will show me how to be that faithful. She was an inspiration. My family is convinced that she had God on "direct-connect."

My aunt was strong, caring, loving, compassionate, easy-going, and had a sense of humor like no other. She gave the best hugs, like she never wanted to let you go, like it would be the last time she ever got to hug you. Without saying a word, her hugs let you know that she loved you more than anything, that she hated to see you go, that spending time with you was worth it, that the world was a better place because you were there, that everything will eventually be ok. I would give anything to have one of those right now...to smell her country scent, to feel her soft arms, to have her kiss my cheek, to feel her faithful embrace.

Granny keeps saying that God took her for a reason, that He needed her more than we do. Whatever His reason...it still hurts.

I love and miss you so much, Aunt Cindy. May you rest in peace.

Poor Grandma

I promise I haven't fallen off the face of the planet. Things have been a little crazy. My grandma is, well, dying. I got a call last Tuesday saying she's now got Congestive Heart Failure (this, along with emphysema and COPD). I went back and forth for days trying to figure out if I should head to Oklahoma. Do I go now? Do I wait until the funeral? Will she make it to Thanksgiving?

And then I talked to my cousin. Grandma has been really incoherent and disoriented because of her oxygen, potassium, and magnesium levels. In the midst of all her incoherency, she asked for Mary. Knowing that made my decision. I booked a flight on Wednesday and was in Dallas on Thursday morning at 10:50. She definitely did not look much like the 6', 220-lb. Grandma who I knew. She was thin. She was frail. She was in ICU. She, however, knew exactly who we were.

Over the next couple days, she continued to improve every day. On Sunday, however, she took a big step backward. She thought all morning that she was in jail and was telling me this crazy story about how she went out the night before and was arrested. She kept asking me to look for things...panties and gowns in drawers and closets that didn't exist and Diet Coke in a refrigerator that wasn't there. She asked me to look in the garage for a Diet Coke, and I knew then that she thought she was at home. A little later when my aunt and Granddad showed up, she looked me square in the eye as her eyes welled up with tears and said, "I know why you came to see me. You thought I was going to die." It took me by such surprise. All I could do was tell her I missed her and hadn't been back since June, so I came to visit.

I had to leave right after. My aunt thought her oxygen levels were off again, but it was actually her potassium and magnesium. I also found out that she's in the end stages of COPD (Stage 4 - very severe COPD). I don't know how much longer she's got. It scares me so much. I have to say, though, that I'll never regret going to see her. She got to see Mary, and we got to see her. Even if she lives for another ten years, I'll never regret booking that flight. I know that Mary being there helped her, and that she truly enjoyed seeing her. I just want her to be comfortable, to not suffer anymore. I want her to remember more and be less confused.

I just want my Grandma back.

Growing up

What a week.

My baby sister started college on Monday. Ho-ly smokes. And to top it off, she turns 18 tomorrow. I remember when she was born, changing her diapers, spanking her ass, raising her...all just so she could grow up. Kinda makes me sad.

Do you remember the things you were doing at 18? I sure do. God help me. Thank goodness she's not wild in the ways I was. She just likes to poke holes all over her face.

Jim, my brother, started school on Monday, too. He's a Junior this year (though he may still be behind some). He officially gets his license in October (he turned 16 in June, but kids now have to obtain a permit for 6 months) and is already looking for jobs. My baby brudda is growing up, too. Bleh. Too much growin' up this week.

I've been sooo excited about our Labor Day weekend plans. We were invited to go to this AWESOME beach house in Ocean City that has a hot tub on the top floor that overlooks the city. Dick, however, "forgot." He told one of his coworkers that we'd watch his 8-month-old boxer. I was initially told that it would be one night. On Sunday they brought Samson by to meet our mutts, and I asked the guy's wife how long. She says, "It'll be around 6:00 Friday night, and I'm leaving DC around 4:00 Monday night." Oh, the whole fucking weekend. So much for Ocean City.

And what is it about men that they find it necessary to leave out HUGE portions of stories, explanations, etc.? And does anyone else's hubs exaggerate as much as mine? I feel like I constantly have to say, "Babe, don't exaggerate." Drives me nuts.

So Mary has a diaper rash. Let me tell you, there is not a diaper changing that goes by that I don't put something on her...powder or cream. She's only ever had very minor rashes that go away in a day. This one happened overnight and was so bad on the first day (Sunday) that she actually bled. I felt so bad. I'm telling y'all, that rash was NOT there when I put her to bed on Saturday night. She would get really antsy and upset when we changed her. I ended up leaving her diaper off for over an hour (luckily she only peed once, and it was on the carpet...she learned that from the dogs). You could see part of the rash kinda crust up. God, I feel so bad just talking about it. Anyway, it didn't get better as fast as I expected, but it's definitely healing. I'm just waiting on the dr to call me back about any kind of extra-protective cream we can use.

Ok, must work.

A little sadness

Tonight Mary is sleeping in the co-sleeper for the first time since she was a week old. I felt my heart breaking as I rocked her to sleep.

Some of this shit is just so hard.

I always said that I'd never have her sleep in my bed simply for safety reasons, but we did it because she was just not sleeping at all in the co-sleeper. And now I'm addicted to her being next to me.

And now she's not. And I'm sad.

Did I mention that MIL took at sleeping pill at 2:00AM yesterday so that when I went to wake her when I was leaving for work, I had to call her name several times? By the end of the day, she was completely wiped out. I told hubs about it, and he said, "She's insane." Noted.

I called on my way home today, and I heard Mary in the background...crying hysterically. MIL told me that she was trying to lay Mary down for a nap and that Mary was truly very tired and trying to fall asleep. Never has Mary cried like that when I've tried to put her down for a nap. My nerves were on edge.

But honestly, it really is nice to have some help. Both my manager and boss are on vacay this week, and I can't imagine having Mary at work all day without my manager there. And it doesn't hurt that MIL has been cookin', too. =)

Dick comes back late next Tuesday (yay!!). I'm so ready for him to be here. It's gone by fast, but this week seems to be draggin' ass. I'm SURE it can't be because I have a spa appointment on Friday.

A pic or two

Just a quickie post...

No new news on how Jim is taking this whole situation. I still haven't spoken to him about it. He doesn't do well with phones. I thank the sweet Lord for creating Tom, the father of all things Myspace because without him, conversations with my brother would be few and far between. I asked what he thought about this whole "who's your daddy" situation, and I quote:

When I start to get lost in it I think about how dad must have felt, nothing more.

Broke my heart.

Most of you know why my lost blog was, um, murdered. Though better judgment tells me that I shouldn't post any pics, I'm going to anyway.

A friend messaged me on Myspace after reading my first post because she wasn't sure about commenting on here. Please, feel free. The only thing I ask is that you address everything to Jane.

I refuse to be shitholed again. =)

Beginning with...drama

Just a little background info before I purge...

My name is Jane.

My hubs is Dick.

Our daughter is Mary.

The rest you'll find out sooner or later. In the meantime, I do have some drama that I have to get off my shoulders.

Last night my mother told my brother, Jim, that our dad is not his biological father.

That's right, now breathe...because I still haven't.

I've known this for over ten years...I found out right before I turned 15. My parents were separated, and in the midst of one of their battles, my dad told me that my mom had an affair about seven years before. I did the math and figured it out. I approached both of my parents about it, and what I got was, "He IS your brother. Your dad IS his father." But, as you see, no real denial from either side. I knew instantly.

My mother has a pretty heavy drinking problem, and it's only gotten worse over the last few years. She blames part of her drinking on the fact that she's had to hide this secret from Jim for so long (16 years). She said that it's been eating her alive. Honestly, I don't give a rat's ass. You do the crime, you pay the time. She claims that there are two reasons for telling him: 1) His biological father's family is getting up there in age, and some of them have always wanted to meet my brother; 2) She wants to be happy, and getting this off her chest will magically solve all her problems and cure her of her drinking problem. She told my brother out of selfishness, and she has hurt all of her kids in the process. Does she not realize that I, too, have hidden this secret for a very long time? I think about it EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE. Not a day goes by that I don't think about my brother having a different father. What she has done is not fair to anyone. Yes, my brother should know the truth, but he has so many anger issues and problems in school that this was absolutely not the right time. But she wants to be happy. We, of course, want her happy, but why now? I'm telling you, our family can't catch a break. Just when things start to normalize, some selfish mother fucker has to throw in a monkey wrench. I could've taken this to the grave, but because mom hits the sauce too hard, she runs her mouth (and according to my dad, half the fucking town that we're originally from knows about this because of her drunken rambling, and her indecency is the whole fucking reason we moved away from there 13 1/2 years ago).

Apparently, when my mom told Jim, he said that this doesn't change anything, and that he still loves our dad and that he IS his dad. He told Jen, my youngest sister, that he doesn't want to meet his bio. father. And then he cried.

So what did I do when Jen told me? I called my dad. He was PISSED. I believe "stupid bitch" was thrown out there a few times, and he hasn't used those words to describe my mother in a long time. He plans on calling my mom tonight.

Mom says nothing will change. She doesn't know that! What's going to happen when he finds out that he's got three sisters and two nieces who he's never met?!? THEY'RE NOT HIS FAMILY FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!! WE ARE!! HE'S MY FUCKING BROTHER AND NO ONE ELSE'S!!

I can't tell y'all the emotions I'm feeling right now. It was much easier when this was a secret.

And yes, I did speak with my mother. I really don't have a damn thing to say to her. It also didn't help that she kept telling me shit that I DID NOT want to hear...like that her doctor friend set up an abortion appointment in a city three hours away and that another friend was going to take her. What the fuck? Did I honestly need to know that? Knowing the gritty details is not something I need.

I could seriously go on and on about this, and I just might in my next post.