I have found that my scans seem to fall on dates where either joy should be felt, or an anniversary of a death. This week, happens to be the week my brother died–6 years ago.
I have a different view of death, I celebrate the life filled with memories. Even though the loved one has left their body, they are all around us. They are part of us, part of what we do, part of everything.
My brother’s death is the one I struggle with. Not in a grief sense, but as in acceptance, and erasing some visions. It took me a while to work through the death of my sister, but I will blog about her philosophy some day. She was an inspiration.
There are times I blog, and blog, but leave my posts as drafts. Therefore, I never remember what I published , and knowing that I repeat, this may be another repeat. Skim as you wish.
Just a quick update on my cat. He is doing much better. I have made two more trips to the veterinarian, but he is finally eating, and acting like his usual self. We may have to dip into our retirement fund to pay the bills, but he’s much, much better.
While I don’t give anniversary deaths that much sad energy, I do take a moment of the day, thinking about what I loved most about them. I do this with my brother, but I have haunting visions of him at the same time.
It was my mom and I who found him. As much as I have tried to erase the vision of him lying on the floor, and every precise detail of what happened after that moment, while trying to support my mom, I continue to struggle. He died of natural causes due to the ravages that Type 1 diabetes does to a body.
I previously had bouts of insomnia–it goes with depression and anxiety. After the death of my brother I would have dreams about him dying. Each morning I would wake up reliving the day of his death. I created a mountainous problem of going to bed at night. The problem went on for many, many months. I no longer have the dreams, and I don’t relive the day over and over, but the insomnia lingers.
And then there is the anniversary. A time when I concentrate on the life of my brother, not the death—but try as I might, to focus my thoughts elsewhere, seeing his face for the last time is the first vision I have.
In an odd sense, this has relieved my anxiety over the scan results.
I don’t think I published an updated post about my oldest son, but he finally found a job. Yes, one of the Vampires in the Basement has a day job. Unfortunately, his commute is pretty long, and he is already griping about it. But he has to save his money, and he’ll just have to suck it up until then.
The reason why I had to drive to Atlanta last week, was to take the second vampire to her therapy session—a session we pay for. The journey with her, is a frustrating one. We love and care for her, because our son does—she doesn’t believe it, and it doesn’t look like she’ll be comfortable around us—ever. It has been over 4 years? Maybe longer.
I think I will be able to avoid the stress of driving to the city.
If a person won’t help themselves, and we keep giving them assistance, don’t we become enablers? That was the discussion we had with our son last night. We can’t do any more, we have reached our limit of kindness. Now, it feels like out-and-out manipulation, leeching, and exploitation our kindness. The hard thing for me, is knowing the stress we are now placing on our son, who has his own mental issues to work through.
We have financially supported her by giving her food, shelter, paid for some pricey dental work, and emotional support–I have always been here to listen. I’m not sure if I can be any more accommodating, open, or kind.
Meh, it is what it is. We have lost our son to this world of taking care of her, and ignoring his own well being. He will be 25 soon, and there is nothing we can do. I refuse to be a meddling parent. I’m extremely sad that this is the path he is taking, but it is his path to follow.
Anyway—Thursday, is the anniversary of the death of my brother. It is also the day of her therapy appointment. The day I have to push myself beyond my anxiety, to drive to the city—with way too many other thoughts running through my mind–and I’m not going to do it.
This anniversary, I’m doing something different. I’m going to listen to some Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath (ugh), and Rush, and think about all the times my brother was rotten to me and my sisters. How we can laugh about his rottenness today, even though it wasn’t funny at the time. I will remember his red hair, his sense of adventure, his chatty pants personality, and his fascination with the thoughts of Carl Sagan.
And, maybe I’ll sleep.
Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.– Carl Sagan