My dear friend

At work, I have a very, very dear friend. She is perfectly flawed and impeccably challenged. Her son had a brain tumor about 5 years ago and sometime after her sharing that with me, I shared with her that my husband had cancer. I am quite tight-lipped about my personal life but I was easily able to share the details with her. So my dear friend Astoria knows more about me and what I feel than many others do. I think part of that is because I see her nearly everyday so each bump in my path, or sun on my shoulders she hears about because she is available and utterly trustworthy and infinitely empathetic.
When she wants to say something that she thinks she shouldn't, I can see on her face exactly what she wants to say. But instead of saying it outright, she asks me a question. Like if I am bitching about someone, instead of saying "boy Someone sure is an asshole" she ask me, "How do you feel when Someone does that? Does it make you angry" I suppose this is a wise strategy but I don't think she thinks of it that way- I think she probably doesn't want to say something that I may get mad at her for or she fears may offend me. Or maybe its because she really understands about how feelings fluctuate and scenarios change and Someones can be good and Someones can be bad all in the same Someone.
Astoria is a complicated person and she has had alot of unfortunate things happen to her.
Her mother is a resident on the dementia unit in the nursing home we work in. She was diagnosed with early onset dementia, at the age of 50 i think. It has declined rapidly and her mama cannot communicate nor recognize anyone. It is a terrible, terrible disease and knowing it from my work experience and more personally is why that book Still Alice touched me so much.
After you see how this terrible disease progresses and the burden it puts on family members who love the victim oftentimes you realize that living with end stage dementia is no way to live. She knows that better than anyone.
Her mama has been doing worse than usual this week and it is an erie feeling to think the end is near. Though she has said many times that death would finally bring comfort to her mom, it still has to be scary. To anyone who is reading this, please pray for what is best for my dear friend, and her family.

The Watch

When we were in Louisiana, Tom felt the node in his groin. A couple months after we moved down there and he started working, he felt the need to make an appointment with an oncologist there. After his appointment, the oncologist wanted to see if anything was going on so he ordered a PET/CT scan. After the scan, we stopped at the most wonderful mall in Houston near the medical center and walked around a bit before heading home. He saw some shoes in The Walking Co. store and he said he wanted to get them because they are supposed to be very comfortable - since he is standing and wearing a lead vest for much of the day, these would be great. He said he would hold off on getting them to wait and see what was going to happen, if he relapsed or not.

When we got engaged, Tom presented me with a beautiful ring. I, in turn, bought him a watch as an engagement gift. This is a tradition that I had no clue about but I guess some women will buy their fiancee an engagement gift, I suppose because a ring costs a lot of money and a nice gift for the man is appropriate. So I decided very easily upon a nice watch that I liked very much. When he got it he loved it as well, but he had some problems with the dial so he ended up taking it back and exchanging it for another watch. Since then, four years ago, he has always said that he would buy that watch again because he misses his "love watch".

So that day when we were home after this trip to the medical center, he made a comment again about that watch- that if everything is OK, he was going to buy it once and for all.

It truly pains me to recollect the feeling of this day because I was really doubtful that anything could be wrong. I thought he was a bit paranoid and I was inherently optimistic. We just moved across the country, Tom took his first job out of his training and after having Gabriella, I was 4 months pregnant with Marco. Of course this wouldn't happen now, how could it?
Needless to say, it did happen and that was the beginning of the next part of our journey on Life Parkway.

I ache that he didn't get that watch. And my attachment to that watch symbolizes health, marriage and his upbeat outlook. Each birthday, Christmas and Anniversary that has come since then has given me the idea over an over to re-buy this watch. But it is an expensive watch so it is not a necessary purchase, and I couldn't quite justify the expense.
Now I am working for the benefit of our team. Now Tom is working for the benefit of our team. And now, I bought that watch for his birthday next week. Yes I did. It is in the basement in its UPS box and I am going to take it out and wrap it up this week that Tom is away working and that watch will be back in our home again. I am not putting an inordinate amount of pressure on this watch to live up to its emotional value for me, but I sure do hope that its dial works this time.

Injustice

I bought myself the book Push, which is the book that the movie Precious was based upon. I figured that I would read the book because I had not see the movie and I know it is reviewed as being quite profound. Additionally, I loved the story of how Gabourey Sidibe was discovered - within 3 days she went from an average college student to staring in a soon-to-be hit film. At the time, she was participating in some small plays at the City University of New York school that I attended for my Masters.
This book is written in the vernacular as the main character would be speaking, and it is painful to read about this girls life, but unfortunately I'm sure there are one too many other girls living just this way right around us.

Sometimes I hear stories of personal belongings getting stolen from the patients and residents in the nursing home where I work, and I always wonder to myself how anyone could do such a thing. Like take the gold ring off of a confused 90 year old. Or take a bottle of perfume from their bedside drawer that was a birthday gift. Or take the gold necklace off of someone's neck while they were sleeping... yup this and more has all happened. I have worked in more than one nursing home and this stuff happens in all of them.

I was suppose to attend a community event in a very impoverished neighborhood in the Bronx to give information and speak about healthy eating and nutrition. Indirectly, my presence would be intended to represent and advertise the nursing home and the home care services, etc. in the community. I ended up telling my boss and the business development guy that I was not able to go. Several reasons went into this - we met with the head of the community center that was putting on this fair and they were a caring couple who's mission is to help this community in need and they have done quite a bit, but from my vantage point there are way too many issues for me to begin to make a dent in by talking about whole grains and broccoli. I can't begin to describe the number of untackled issues - it seems to make nutrition so trivial. Children raised by grandparents because their parents are dead, teens who are pregnant, morbidly obese diabetics with no health insurance, couples on welfare with 9 children, food markets with nothing but processed ding-dongs and fried chicken... it goes much deeper than my little intervention can do especially with the majority of my experience geared to patients with quite a bit of knowledge about wellness and healthy behaviors. It is in my soul to want to help people, but this community requires a huge time commitment and many groups in participation to make some changes - I felt ill-equipped to serve them alone. Additionally, I have my own case load of assessments and consults to deal with at work and it would cost me quite a bit to take a large chunk of my day to go out into the community when these activities are not budgeted in my time. Call me crazy, but I couldn't get it out of my head that I would feel horrible and terribly awkward driving down and parking in this part of the Bronx where they cant afford a car at all, as I am driving a car that costs more than their yearly wadges. I drive a nice car- I shouldn't be ashamed of that, after all, my husband and I work very hard to make good money and live right and if we want to drive a nicer, newer car, we should feel comfortable doing so. But in this setting, no matter what you tell me, I will not feel comfortable and this was a huge deterrent to me for going to the community fair.
Long story short, another girl in a community outreach position went to the fair to man the table and represent our work and we provided her with some nutritional handouts in English and Spanish for her to distribute. The fair was located in an open plot, like a make-shift courtyard between two apartment buildings. This young girl was at her table less than one hour when someone from a window in an apartment above dropped down one dozen eggs on top of her head. She, covered in sticky, messy eggs, left the fair without words to describe her disgust when we saw her the next day.
That is the kind of person who slides the wedding band from the Alzheimer's patient. That is the kind of person who rapes their own daughter and gets her pregnant twice. And that is the kind of person who drains our society, and to whom advice about 5 fruits and vegetables a day would probably not illicit a lifestyle change. I do want to help, but I cant harm myself while helping. And, I hope I am not wrong, I believe that it is beyond my scope at this juncture to be of use.

Be Where you are

As I sing you to sleep,

I am missing holding your small body.

I haven't been a parent long,

but long enough to know

you grow too quick.

As I try to keep our dinner time under control

I am hating myself for not letting you

laugh and squeal and scream with happiness.

I am relatively young,

but old enough to know

innocent bliss doesn't last forever.

As I hustle you out of the house with me

and feel my patience dwindle

I know I don't have the time now-

but someday,

I will have all the time in the world

and I wont have you to share it with.

Each day I try to savor you. Each day I remind myself how precious each moment is. And as I foresee your growth I realize it is coming and the present is going and nothing like parenting can teach you the importance of being where you are. Unfortunately we realize this in retrospect. My daughter is 40 inches tall. She came out of me 21 3/8th inches long. By five she will have doubled her length - and that is slow compared to so many other aspects of her development. I guess this is why that Duggar family on TV has like 18 kids - the growth, the doubling and your job will never end. There certainly is a limit to my patience as a mother and I want to do a good job so 18 would not suit me well. I suppose I reflect on them because I love them so much and by the nature of it, my love must change again and again as they grow. And I love them more and more and more...