God, Do You Hate Me or Is This My Hell on Earth?

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My beloved mother.

It’s been a while since my last post, but life’s been hectic and hell.

At the first part of October, my mother’s friend was supposed to ride to Florida with her to begin her yearly escape from the cold but she got sick and I had the availability to go, so I did.  We had a good drive down and fun the time I got to spend with her.  She felt bad about leaving before my surgery but the weather was getting too cold to wait much longer.  I flew home 4 days later, sorry to leave the warm weather but anxious to get back before Sebastian could miss me too much knowing that he would have an extended period of separation post-surgery.

In one of my last posts, I talked about my pending surgery.  These are the pretty pictures.  The hand was no big deal, however, the elbow was worse than what I had expected.  Of course, had I been able to recuperate normally, it may not have been as bad but that’s not the way it went.

The surgery was on 11/14.  I received a message from my brother on 11/16 that they had flown mom home from Florida because her pancreatic cancer had spread to her liver and intestines.  She could not drive home because one of the lesions looked like it could rupture at any time and they didn’t want her risking the drive back to Indiana.

When I saw my surgeon on 11/20, I informed him that I was flying to Florida with my son the next day to retrieve mom’s desired possessions and car.  To say the least, he wasn’t thrilled.  He asked me to try my best to follow his restrictions.  I said that probably wasn’t gonna be possible given the task ahead.

Needless to say, it wasn’t.  I overtaxed my elbow during the packing and return home.  It couldn’t be helped.  Then I was in such pain that I babied it too much, for too long.  I’m now suffering the consequences.  I will have to put a concerted effort into exercising the tendons, muscles and joint if I want to fully straighten my arm again.

Mom died on 12/5, just 2 years and 1 day after dad.  After receiving my brother’s message that she was fading, I couldn’t get dressed and out of the house fast enough to get there.  My eldest daughter called me with the news that she was gone.  I haven’t yet decided if that was a good thing to not have seen her go or not.  Time will tell I guess.

Sebastian’s mom, who had been staying with me since my second hip replacement and who thought she was too busy to show up during my recovery to help me also neglected to come to mom’s showing or funeral.  So after I returned from the good old Irish wake we had at my younger brother’s house, I came home and packed up everything in her room, then waited.  It took her about 4 whole days afterward for her to contact me.  She said something about coming home, I calmly told her that she didn’t live here anymore.  Through her protests and whines I informed her that she had received numerous warnings over the previous week that she had better be there or I was done with her.  She didn’t bother to come to dad’s services nor did she come to Mark’s, whom she always said was the only true dad she ever had, and that was bad enough but she had better be there for mom’s.  Then I parted with the statement that I would let her know how to get her stuff and when she grows up enough to put someone else before herself to call me.  I haven’t heard from her since.

Since over the last 3 years of my life have I’ve been raked through hell and back, I’m left asking the question, “God, do you hate me or what?”

Peace and blessings,
Teresa Marie

Dear God, I’m Mad at You!

The First Birthday - Peanut Butter Runner
Image from Pinterest

“Dear God, I love & trust in You.
You are the Rock I stand on,
You are my Shield of protection against evil,
You are the Wing I hide beneath,
I am in awe of this world You have spoken into creation.
Great King above all kings clothed in  glory & might,
You have my eternal adoration.”

I have done a lot of reading on effective prayer and the thing that stuck with me the most was to always open with praise and worship before making any petitions.  That’s what I try to do but I haven’t really read too much about how to address Him when you are angry with Him.

I’m angry with God, with Mark, and especially with myself!  Everyone says “Oh Terri, you can’t blame yourself over what you did or didn’t do, what you could have done, should have done and all that guilt you’re laying on yourself isn’t fair to you.”

Logically I know all of this already but my heart and emotions will not let it go!!

It doesn’t help that I miss my husband every minute of every day.  He truly was my best friend, the love of my life, and I know it sounds cliche’ but he was my soul mate.  The intimacy that we had with each other is very rarely achieved in such a short amount of time.  Even though we would have only been married 14 years this year, it felt like the relationship of 40 years instead.

I loved kissing him.  Now, every time I look at a picture of him, all I can think about is how I’ll never again be able to kiss those lips and I start crying.

The other night I had a dream (or maybe a visitation from his Spirit) that was so tangible, I had to gasp when I realized it wasn’t real and I wailed like a mad woman for at least 15 minutes.

I was laying in bed, in the same position I would have been had Mark been there.  All of the sudden I felt him behind me, pulling me in closer to him like he always did and I began to roll over to kiss him when my hand passed through the thin air and I was startled awake.  It was so real!!  But it wasn’t and my heart ached all day, wishing I could return to that moment and freeze it in time, remaining there in his arms for eternity.

Life really sucks sometimes and, yes God, I’m mad at you for taking him away from me!!  Why did You give him to me in the first place if You weren’t gonna let me keep him?!  How could You do this to me when You knew how desperately in love I was with him?

Dear God, I’m mad at You!

Peace and blessings to you all,
Teresa Marie

Good Memories; Guilt, Regrets & Anger Still There

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Family (minus Sara) Christmas 2018 these are our grandchildren 

In my never ending task of clear out Mark’s things. or so it seems, and the thinning out of mine, I came across the little picture album that Shawna gave me when I got home from my first hip replacement.

As I looked through it again, of course, I couldn’t help but to start crying.  There was a reason for this meltdown though, I had just realized that Mark wasn’t feeling too well that day and didn’t really want to go.  I begged him to do it for me stating that if he wanted to leave sooner than I did he could and I would have one the kids bring Bass & I home later.  He made a last, half-hearted protest and then said ok.

God must have been trying to warn me but, as no surprise, I got the message mixed up.  I had texted the members of my little family stating that I wanted for us all to get together with during the holidays to take some family pictures in case anything happened to me during surgery.  Of course, objecting to my reason for it, they agreed to meet at my son’s house.

I could never have guessed in a million years they would be last pictures taken of Mark.  He was in the hospital within the next couple of days after.

I’m so glad that I talked him into it!  We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, leaving me a good last memory of him.

There are still a bunch of emotions that I am having to deal with day in and day out, but I’m getting there.

I thought I wouldn’t ever stop grieving after losing my BFF Penny (3 or 4 years ago) but even as close as we were, it pales in comparison to losing Mark!

I’m still missing you, Babe, daily!

Teresa Marie

When Does it Stop?

 

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I was doing that one thing we all love to do when seasons change, pack up the Fall and Winter coats and clothes into the totes you just emptied of Spring and Summer clothes.  Carefully inspecting each of Sebastian’s items for the size label (usually non-existent because it was cut off before handed down from his autistic cousin or he demanded the tag be removed himself) to determine if I pack it or send it off to either the rag bag or another worthy wearer.

Nah, the second part of that is always what I intend to do but my the time I get there, I’m too worn out from unpacking, sorting and repacking the totes that I’m needing a break from the monotony but yesterday I needed a break from the angry grief just long enough to completely fall apart, sobbing like this is February and we just buried his ashes!  Why?  What set me off?  A little green tee-shirt that said “Daddy’s little helper”.

Grief really sucks!  When I start thinking I’ve moved past all its stages, something small, just a minor little thing, socks me in the gut with one uncontrollable emotion of another!!

It’s been a rough time these last five years.

We lost Mark’s dad, Al, from cancer in Nov. of 2017.

We lost my dad, Rich, when he broke his pelvis in a fall after Thanksgiving of 2018 and caught pneumonia at the age of 89.  He went home before Christmas.

Afterwards, I happened to have found sort of a poem that he had written on a piece of paper and tucked away in a book.  I presumed he wrote since there was no author noted.  My dad was much too honorable for plagiarism.  I thought I’d share it with you today.

 

“Do not cry for me for I am dead and I cannot hear you.

But smile and laugh of the good memories and times that we shared.

Death is not the end.  The end comes when memories are no longer.

Love is said over and over as if to convince the speaker as well as the listener.  If there is no listener why speak of love?

My life was not wasted, the waste was my lack of saying the things that I heard in my head but never put to word.”

I loved all three of these proud, strong and quiet spoken men with all my heart.  They don’t make too many of them like that any more.

God bless and keep you all,

Teresa Marie  5/18/19

How Could You Ever?

 

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As I cleaned today
I found your lisence
Gazed at your picture
with great reluctance
Tears rolled down my face
to my annoyance
Turning heavenward
with due reverence
Questioned God’s belief
in my resilience
Began cursing you
for the arrogance
Of leaving me here 
to suffer existence
How could you ever
hear in the silence
The cries of my soul
in pain’s conveyance
Never to regain
love’s exuberance
How do I go on
if life makes no sence? 

Teresa Marie  4/28/19
I miss you every single day my love!

 

 

Roller Coaster Ride From Hell!

I truly thought that 2017 & 2018 were the worst years I’d had in a very long time. In Nov. 2017, just before Thanksgiving, we lost Mark’s father, whom I dearly loved, to cancer. It it had been a drawn out fight that we thought he was winning with the chemo treatments. Unfortunately he allowed them to talk him into radiation therapy for the small spot on his brain. That’s what ultimately took away our hopes & his life.

Al, Loretta and Sebastian


In the spring of 2018 we were informed that my mother (87) was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. She cared for my father (88) with severe dementia. Mark & I cared for him while she went to chemo. It was a demanding task but there were 2 of us to share the load. One day he asked me why he was here. I said, “Here in this bed or still living here on earth?” His reply of on earth was no surprise. My father was a man’s man, proud & 100% Irish in blood and character. He had been praying for God to take him home for many years. On Thanksgiving that same year my father fell and broke his pelvis. When they moved him from the hospital to a nursing home for rehab, they also diagnosed him with pneumonia. I told my grown children to prepare for the worst because I knew in my soul that he was not coming out of there alive. He passed away early December, actually on Mark’s dad’s birthday.

Dad & my eldest! Shawna


I was so looking forward to 2019; I was scheduled to get my right hip replace on 1/2/19 (there was no socket left, just bone on bone, excruciating pain) and then 3 to 4 months later they would do my left hip.

I thought it would be a arduous process and would probably take at least 6 months to recover from. However, I was ready to get started (the pain was getting worse every day and I could barely walk at a snail’s pace across the room while producing a snap-crackle-pop sound with each step.)  With Mark’s help though I knew I could do it.

My beloved husband, Mark Brewer 8/26/61 – 1/11/19.



On Dec. 26th Mark, Sebastian & I went to Urgent Care; I was sure that I had a sinus infection, Bass had an ear infection and I was almost positive that Mark had had pneumonia for at least a week.

I wish I had been mistaken. After examining Bass & I, the doctor went to check Mark. I don’t think he was gone more than a couple minutes when he came back to tell me, “Your husband is a very sick man! His oxygen level is 60%, BP 80/60.  I honestly don’t know how he ever walked in here.  I wanted to send for an ambulance but he said you’d drive him to the hospital.” I told him to get the ambulance.

I knew he was bad but not that bad.  Within 2 days of admission he was moved to the ICU, put on life support and induced coma, which we had discussed many times.  However, we had no living will and he told no members of his family about his wishes. 

I rescheduled my surgery until 1/23/19.

A word to the wise, get a will or living will!

It was the tortures of the damned for 8 days because I could not stop them from putting all the tubes on him & down his throat, exactly what I vowed with all my heart to never allow!  The doctors said it was their duty to use every method at their disposal to save his life without any wills.  I researched state law & consulted our attorney, then prepared myself for any resistance and waited .

On day 9 they called the family in for a conference.  Thank God the Nurse Practitioner was bluntly honest with the rest of the family.  She began by telling us that a ventilator can only be used for 14 days & then they have to do some procedure Idd can’t remember the name of (tracheoscopy?) where they’d cut an opening in his throat to feed the tubes down.  They needed my signature and I refused.  There weren’t any objections after she informed us that he’d be transferred to an acute care facility, kept in the induced coma & wait for his heart or liver to shut down.  Death was inevitable.
Again I refused, stating that he never wanted what was already done to him and I wasn’t going to allow it to go any further.
God blessed us with one lucid day before he passed where he recognized everyone & ,although his speech was slurred from the brain damage, I knew what he was saying most of the time.  Finally, a tear fell down his cheek as he said, “I’m so sorry!”
I told him I was sorry too but it was alright for him to go, it was gonna be hard but Bass & I would be okay.  It was stated with way more confidence than I possessed.  Actually I was terrified.  Before this all happened, I had no clue how desperately I depended on him!

So here I am: widowed at 60, had MS for 14 years, the adoptive mother of my 3.5 year old grandson, recuperating from two total hip replacements, and grieving the loss of my true soulmate.  I realize now that, considering the longevity of the maternal side of the family, I could spend another 20 to 30 years living alone.  The prospect of which is not thrilling, however, the thought of finding a new husband is even less so.

So I will immerse myself in the raising of Bass, the love of my three children & 5 other grandchildren.

As the saying goes, “Life goes on!”

Teresa Marie

Why?

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My husband Mark 8/26/61 – 1/11/19

Why is the question
I silently ask
The smile on my face     
a pretentious mask

With my grief hidden   
just barely behind
This search for answers   
lends no peace of mind

My spirit is crushed     
my heart lies broken
Yet not a word, Lord,      
from You was spoken

Tell me just one thing     
’cause I need to know
Who set this as time     
that home he should go?   

Why give me this man     
to complete my life
Whom I dearly loved     
and became his wife

Just to turn around    
and take him away?  
Why couldn’t You wait     
’til some later day?

Now I look around     
for somewhere to hide
From facing the truth     
my whole world has died!


Until we meet again, rest in peace my love, your pain is now over.


          Teresa Marie          2/1/19