Daddy

My dad passed away this morning at 9h15.

We love you Paw,  forever and ever.

Rest now, in peace, and stay with us.

Forgive me, but I'll be gone for a while to South Africa.

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Clandestine Affairs

The husband and I went for lunch at Loods5 yesterday.
First browsing through halls and more halls of lovely stuff, then coffee, water, salad and a hamburger for the husband.
It felt like the husband and I were having an illicit affair, sneaking away together for a stolen outing, sans enfants.

A good conversation about me, myself and my burn-out and how I deflect any mention of emotion with humour.

It's true.
I haven't felt anything in years, it seems.
I don't know how to fix this.

Meanwhile, my dad is losing his ability to chew or swallow.
He drinks minute amounts of liquid, will perhaps swallow a teaspoon of food at any meal.
His skin turns blue on his feet and knees, and my mother massages them back to a good, rosy colour.
I don't know what to say.

Tonight I'm driving to Utrecht to buy two second-hand Wassily Chairs for our empty living room.
But first kids to cart off to school, a day at work, then a meeting with my work coach, and home again for dinner.
Breathe.
Just breathe.


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To See

We had a great night with the neighbours last night.

Good diversion from annoyances with children and between spouses and life and things we worry about.

 Son#1 went for a sleep-over at a (tomboy-ish girl-)friend's house.

It's almost lunchtime and he's still there.

I guess it's going well.

 It's raining in the Nether Lands today, and the wind is howling over the landscape, hitting us with a gust or two every now and then.

We are lethargic after last night's imbibing in spirits.

The will is there to go out into the world and DO something, but the flesh is a bit weak today.

I want to stay in my pajamas really, and read the day away.

Sigh.

In South Africa, my dad is drifting in and out of consciousness.

He eats nothing.

Is this the next phase in his process of dying??

He is angry and annoyed at times.

I spoke to him shortly on Monday, the 7th of October.

This was my last talk with my dad, and we talked about the medical costs that were climbing and climbing.  

We spoke for about 2 minutes until I asked him to give the phone to my mother.

I thought there would be another opportunity to speak to my dad again.

How strange and foreign it feels to realize that this will never happen.

It's odd to realize that the grieving process has already started while my father is still alive.

My dad's sleepiness and confusion is the worst of all for my mother.

His body is still here, but his spirit is already departing.

Touch and go in this life, touch and go in the next.

And my mother feels the loneliness worst of all.

Being with someone, but being lonely, is surely the worst loneliness of all.

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Words to live by

Man's real home is not a house, but the Road, and life itself is a journey to be walked on foot.

Bless you, Bruce Chatwin.

You lived well.

Short, but well.


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C'est Le Weekend: Danger ahead

Idiot woman.
I offered to help drive some of the kids in Son#1's class to a museum this morning and back.
Deep sigh.

Meanwhile, I'm still at home and almost on my way, and Son#3 is getting my goat a wee bit.
He just poured yoghurt on the napkins that he chucked on the floor.

Our weekend ahead is busy but peaceful.
A drink with the neighbours further down the road on Saturday.
A play date with my friend Karen for Saturday afternoon.
And the rest, nothing.

My darling dad is still the same.
He sleeps an awful lot.
I'm so glad the hospice nurse was there - my mother feels less alone, more able to spar with someone about my dad's requirements.

First, over-excited kids that need to be driven around.
Help me, help me, help me, Universe.
No good deed goes unpunished.

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Me love you long time

Sigh.

 

 Deep sigh.

If my house burned down today, I know exactly what and who I would grab and go.

The husband and cat too, but they don't like their picture taken.

Boring, huh?

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In need of a friendly face

Anyone's will do.

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It's a wondrous thing

Today was such a bloody crap day.
The day dragged on and on, and all my work would not get done.
I listened to complaining colleagues, drank tea and espresso, nibbled on my fruit and luckily thought to check my schedule to discover a forgotten meeting.
Sigh.

Then, home, I phoned my mum who had met up with Hospice nurse Jill - a kind, warm lady.
It will do my mother good to speak to a knowledgeable person with practical advice and warm hugs.
Nurse Jill thinks my dad has a ways to go still, that death isn't there yet.
But my mother wonders how much weight my dad can still lose, and live.

All this uncertainty.
What I can tell you with absolute conviction, is that I love my family.
The husband, the boys, the parents (and in-laws), the brother (-in-law), even the blooming cat who keeps peeing on the front door mat.

They are all gorgeous.
Gorgeous.
And just the thought of them, rights any wrong day.
 

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Saudade#1

Which perfectly matches my mood.
My mood would have been matched even more perfectly had we been living in Tarifa.
Kaftan-wearing, smiley, happy hippie-people.
I want to be one of those.

A day at work with lots (of backlog) to do.

I'm feeling a bit down, and I don't know if this is just normal or if I'm starting to get depressed.
Perhaps it's all just hormones?
Everything boils down to hormones at the end of the day.
Even depression (scary thought).

But.
Twenty degrees Celsius today.
Food on our tables.
Parents that still live.
Love in our hearts.


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Just No

My dad has been calling out for his best friend, Dirk.
He calls my mother by another name.

My mother seems to also be in my anti-sleeping-stress-mode.
Not sure how much longer she will be able to manage physically.

This morning, my father came down with a stomach bug on top of everything else.
He eats next to nothing.
Doesn't move.
Isn't really here anymore.

 
I will never hear his outrageous stories of going fishing at the Durban Aquarium in the 70s.
Or laugh again how we climbed over the walls of the public pool to gather lychees by the bucket loads.
We will never sit, cracked up,  in the dining room of the Splendid Hotel in Annecy, joking about how the super-dry air conditioning that supposedly turned my mother from a spritely 18-year old into a wrinkly old lady overnight. 
We laughed so much that morning that I think the husband was embarrassed (were you, love?).

And I detach, detach, detach.
And feel guilty about it.

We're on this empty bus, and we don't want to go where it's taking us.


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Negotiations

The boys - all 3 of them - were heard negotiating this morning.
Who would go down into the dark stairwell and switch on the light???
Son#1 is the most scared of them all, closely followed by #3.
#2 is in his own league:  He will not be cowed by talk of ghosts and all sorts of resident evil.
Bless.

I'm staying home today, will go to work tomorrow methinks.
I stayed up reading early into the morning hours, and feel its effects now.
Silly woman.
My escape-artist tactics will be the end of me.
Why rest and restore one's mind and body if one can read crappy novels and 'be' somewhere else for a while??
Perhaps it's just a case of bad timing.
Reading crappy novels = O.K.
Reading crappy novels until 3 a.m. = Daft.
Sigh.
 
My dad's condition remains unchanged.
We wait, we wait.
But not for anything that can be considered good.

 

The Clan is united again

And I'm quite happy with that.
Very few skirmishes amongst the brothers so far, only a few harsh words between brothers yesterday after picking Son#2 up from his grandparents'.

 
We're not doing much today.
I need to clean and organize the house for the coming week.
Work a bit if I can, study if I can.

My dad had a good-ish day yesterday, listened to a rugby match on the radio (although he did fall asleep), and told my mother of how he wished they'd bought a farm in Bedford, where my parents took Son#1 and I many, many years ago when I was pregnant with #2.
Anytime I hear that he's had a good day, hope flares that all will be well again.
This is not so.

The husband hung horizontal blinds in front of our living room windows so we won't have to look at the nasty old farts' house anymore.
Son#2 had a stomach bug which is now in the possession of Son#3.
I've moved all my junk from work and whatnot from the cellar to the kitchen and am thereby forced to clean it all up today.

As you can see, my life is riveting.
Riveting, let me tell you.
But this level of riveting is surely what I can manage for now, thankyouverymuch.

Son#2 is whistling again, and breakfast + coffee is calling our names.


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Cue Angelic Choir

I'm sort of convinced that the husband is smack-bang in a midlife crisis.
At least he loves and adores me, my wonky body, my brilliant mind and moods (haha).
You need someone to ground you, to turn to and to talk to.
You also need alcohol.

Not an awful lot, but definitely a wee bit every now and then.
I'm limiting myself to wine and more recently, Ruby Port, to 2 nights per week.
I really should work on eating healthier than I've been doing the last few months.

Did you know that when you are stressed, your adrenaline levels go up, which in turn stimulates a craving for sugar, which in turn stimulates adrenaline production?
In the same way energy begets energy, an energy drain begets an energy drain.
It certainly explains the alien amounts of sugar that I've been consuming lately...

Son#2 is coming home this afternoon.
I'm spending the morning finishing my work and doing the laundry, then grocery shopping.
Thank the good and merciful gods that the cleaner is coming on Monday.
And I'm packing my bags for South Africa.
Just in case.


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C'est Le Weekend: Fog and Cold

The morning started at 10 p.m. last night already.
I've been up, it seems, forever.
Sounds in the night, and a restlessness that is squeezing the bejesus out of me.
 
Son#1 was returned to the warm fold of home, and then it was Son#2's turn for a sleep-over at his paternal grandparents'.
My mother-in-law let Son#2 phone home last night, the homesickness thick in his voice, poor bunny.
Son#2 and I had it so good together, just the 2 of us, this past week.
He needed it, and so did I.
I miss his strong voice and constant whistling in the house, not to mention his unfailing enthusiasm for everything - taking out the trash, grocery shopping, you name it, he's geared with a smile and ready to go.
No sullen moods, no sirreee.

It is terribly bone-gnawingly cold here this morning, and the outside world is dressed up in a shroud of fog.

Son#1 and #3 and I are home, ate breakfast, and now they're upstairs making even more of a mess of the already messy playroom.
The entire house is in a shambles.
Piles of laundry and paperwork.
Nothing in its place.
I will need to clean it this weekend, in earnest, in case I need to fly to South Africa within the next few days.
And I need to catch up on a backlog of work and studies as well.
Sigh.

My dad finally came home yesterday afternoon, by ambulance.
My mother and I decided that he's not going back for treatment (even if his calcium goes up again, or he needs blood).
It distresses him I think - he gets confused so much - thinking that everything and everyone is in on some conspiracy to harm him - even, to her great sadness, my mother.
At home, my dad is calm, even when his confusion starts.
He feels safe at home, and that's where he needs to be.
My mother says she feels like she's already lost him.
The husband told me that I'm already in the memory-phase.
My darling dad deserves a good, long life, not this crap.

Son#1 is going to the circus this afternoon, with his best friend.
He's sitting upstairs, playing on the child tablet talking to an electronic cat that repeats everything he says.
The things we do, even as children, to convince ourselves that we're really alive.
Now is just now.
Stay in the moment, Yo.


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Words to Live By

If you're feeling helpless, help someone.

(Aung San Suu Kyi)

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Stressssssss

My dad spent the night in hospital and will hopefully be released again today.
We are so scared that he might pass away in hospital, and not at home.
His doctor thinks he's become incredibly frail in a very short time.
It's difficult for me to describe how I feel.
But sad is definitely one of those feelings.
A deep, profound sadness.

I'm so stressed at the moment, that I don't know what to do with myself.
My back is one large knot, my nerves are frayed, and anything that flashes on and off, gets my goat.
I have heart palpitations.
I sleep badly.
And so does the husband - he has his own problems and yet he ponders mine too.
I bought passiflora this morning.
Hopefully I can take a more Zen-ish approach to this chapter of my life.
Just keep breathing, and try not to think.




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Dropping stuff

I think I need a good, long sleep.
I'm dropping and spilling stuff as I go along - this morning even before breakfast, an egg and milk respectively graced the cellar's floor (and shelves, and jars...) and kitchen counters.
Mmmm.

My dad is being picked up by an ambulance at 15h00 this afternoon, to be taken to hospital for blood transfusions.
It's not the calcium levels that are causing my father's confusion, as his calcium was a nice, acceptable level.
I think my dad is dying.  
All the signs are there.
Sleepiness, restlessness, confusion, weakness, loss of appetite.
What a strange, abstract realization this is.

Here in the Nether Lands, Son#2 and I are home alone again.
He's playing with clay while I write.
He used my mascara this morning while I was still trying to sleep, with disastrous effects.
Difficult to wash off....
My drag queen son and I are having a peaceful day.
Son#1 is staying over at his parental grandparents' and #3 is at daycare.
I should do some of my work that I'm running behind on, and studying for my exams in a month's time, but my energy has dwindled down to, well, nothing really.
My mind is elsewhere, with my parents all the way down south in South Africa.
And who can blame me?

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Quick visits and Quicksand

My friend Sandra came over with 2 of her 3 kids this morning.
We had coffee galore and the boys ran around with weapons of all kinds, walkie talkies and handcuffs.
Both Sandra and I were both shot down in cold blood, despite sticking 'em up when told to stick-'em-up.

Earlier, I phoned the pathologists in South Africa to make sure that they were planning on testing my dad's calcium levels as well this morning, and cancelled his radiation appointment for tomorrow.
I'm afraid that he's been so weak and unconscious really since Friday, that getting him anywhere right now is not possible.

Yesterday, my mother and I spoke about easing my dad's suffering, not only physical suffering, but the mental and emotional suffering as well.
It's hard for my mother:  When do you stop treating my dad??  
He's indicated that if he could opt for euthanasia, he would, but this is not an option in South Africa.
My mother is fighting my father's approaching death as much as she can, trying to get him treated for any new problem that crops up.

The husband's aunt died a few years go - she opted for palliative sedation, as she knew she had trouble letting go of life.
Wish my dad had that option as well.
My friend Sandra's dad also opted for palliative sedation when he passed away a few years ago, guilt-ridden though, as he was a devout catholic.

My mother wants to try and fight for my dad's health and well-being as much as she can.
There must be no regrets later, and I understand that.
I understand you Mom, for wanting to fight, and Dad, you will never read this, but I understand your being tired of all this crap now.
I respect it.



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Tum-tum-te-dum

It's early Sunday morning and we hear lots of rain outside.
I've been awake since 2h30 this morning, Son#1 and #2 slept on dutifully by my side.
The husband went to friends' last night (his spot in bed quickly usurped), and #1 and #2 and I watched Rapunzel on DVD.
Riveting.

I have to clean the kitchen, cook breakfast, clean the rest of the house for the husband's soon-to-be-divorced brother and his son, who are coming over this afternoon.
The big boys are going fishing (without a fishing license!!!  Criminals!!! Gotta love/hate the Nether Lands with its gazillion useless rules, because lo and behold, if we let innocent kids fish without a €100 license each, pretty soon ALL the fish will be gonegonegone - like we'd eat anything that came out of this water - feeling a bit cranky today).
Son#3 and I will take a nap.

The husband spoke to the old couple who live across us on the dyke yesterday, to ask if they could perhaps move their car a wee bit forward, so we can park diagonally across from them on our side of the road.
This way, we wouldn't have to cross the busy road with 3 unpredictable young kids.
The old hoot wouldn't even open the door, and spoke in aggressive terms to my civil husband through a hatch.
In short, they don't care if our kids die, they simply won't give.
People are amazing creatures.  

The husband saw this as a kind of personal failure - but that's not what this is:
People fail in how badly socialized they are.
In not being emphatic.
In not being a team player (to use shoutology, which is just a lot of hot air slung around in the form of words).

But we have bigger fish to fry.
My dad is not doing well.
His calcium levels are up again (we think, it's getting tested on Monday morning), he is confused, he can't really see anymore, and is almost completely deaf.
Where are the limits of what is dignified in death and dying?
A friend of my parents' told my mother yesterday that she must forgo the radiation for my dad's eye.
That it's just a small part of a very big picture right now.
It feels horrid and unreal to think that my father will probably die before the month is out.
The only thing he is constantly aware of, is my mother.
If that's not a testimony to true love, I don't know what is.


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Trappings

I need to organize our life, my work, all this crap around me in every single room, drawer and on every shelf.  
So much crap and clutter that you hardly notice the Oh-So-Cute-Kid there on the right.

My parents have recently gone through the entire ORDEAL of sorting through their things that were left in storage for more than a year, and selling off or giving away most of it. 
What remained were books, photo albums, some crockery. 
Because my dad is dying from multiple myeloma, this process of shedding all of their earthly belongings has mostly rested on my mother's shoulders.  
Do not underestimate how difficult it is to make a decision on keeping something or letting it go. 

The surprising part however, is how FREE my parents feel from all the material trappings of life.  
This has a good and bad side, I think.

On the one hand, stuff keeps you grounded in your life.
Holding on to all this grounding-stuff keeps you tethered to your existence, involved in the world.
You keep working to buy more stuff to match your existing stuff.

If you cut yourself free from this by getting rid of everything you own - all the things that hold memories - all of a sudden you are liberated from this gravity, and anything is possible.
You could float off into any direction.
It seems scary to me today.

Deep sigh.
After speaking to a friend this week about how she's decluttering her life in order to sell her house, the irritation with our ever-expanding mess has grown significantly.
This weekend I'll have to start clearing all the crap and organizing the remaining rubbish into usable piles and systems.
Trust me, I don't FEEL like it.
Not at all.


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C'est Le Weekend: The times they are a-changin'

All around us, the trees are finally starting to change colour.
The temperature dropped significantly this week, down to 11 degrees Celsius.
Somewhere in my psyche, I was hoping for the endless summer.

On a cold October morning, our street.

Son#3 and I are at home for the moment.
I might meet up with my friend Sandra to satisfy our caffeine-addictions.
This afternoon, Son#2 has swimming lessons, and I'm taking ALL 3 boys with - the Autumn Holiday Hell starts at midday.
Sigh.

Perhaps it won't be too hellish - the in-laws are taking Son#1 and #2 in turns next week, for stays of around 3 days each.
Lessens the load and lightens the schedule.

My dad is getting his blood tested today - either at home or in hospital.
We think his hemoglobin levels have dropped again, he sleeps all the time and is too tired to even lift his arms.
Wish I were there.


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The BFFs

Although Son#2 has problems adjusting to their new-ish school (and rules, and discipline and his mother's moods), Son#1 has managed to find a kindred spirit.
They are quiet when together, and they're O.K. with that.
Next week, they're off to the circus together on Friday, during the autumn school break.

 Schweet.

I'm working from home this morning, marking stuff, which I hate.
We had a bad night (again) with Son#2 and #3 waking from the rain showers on the roof and windows.
All I'd like to do this morning, is crawl back into bed with my bad disposition and a book
Mmmmmm.
Procrastination is calling my name.
And I obey, a willing slave.

 



.
 

It's only natural

Yes sirreeeee!

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A good way to start the week

A long walk along the beach, stopping for the views.

The nothing-ness of it is breathtaking.

 

 

Lighthouses and calm seas.

The best husband in the Universe, who bought coffee and a small lunch, while we sat in the sun and listened to the inebriated talk of drunk elderly Belgian people.

 

And now here we are again, Tuesday morning at work.

 

My dad is holding on but feels despondent and tired.

The medical costs of having cancer in South Africa have proven insurmountable: 

my parents' precious nest egg is now depleted and empty, their medical fund exhausted.

Another thing I lose sleep over.

 

Yesterday, when we walked along the beach, the husband and I were struck again by the insignificant-ness of our existence.

Long long after we and our problems have turned into flecks of dust,

the sea will still be there. 

There will still be wind and beach and birds and new people with new problems and worries.

 

I had a long talk with my boss this morning, and then with a colleague with whom I have a special bond.

It's not often one comes across someone so very like oneself.

Small miracles for small people.

 

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True

Everything has been figured out, except how to live.

 

(Jean-Paul Sartre)

I'm taking a day off from everything (seeing as that has apparently been understood).

The husband is driving towards the coast, and I'm going with him (that would be the live-part).

My dad is poorly and it kept me up all night, with a restlessness I haven't had in years.

He probably has pneumonia, and got some antibiotics for it.

Wish I could help you, Mom, and Dad, carry your burden for you.

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Last of the apples

With the apple trees now pruned to a nice size, and the garden man who saved the big apples high up, this is our last batch for this year.

 
Next year, our yield will be smaller.
Luckily in the cellar, we still have an enormous bag of green apples, and pears ripening in the fridge.

I have a serious case of noise overload this morning.
Think it's stress - my dad developed a horrid cough and chest infection, and he is weak beyond words.
I have a lot of work to do this week as well.
The husband's fuse is also short after a rough night with Son#2 who woke at 4 a.m. and now refuses to listen/comply/get dressed (I know, same old, same old...).

 
The in-laws are coming this afternoon, and I still need to clean the house and buy groceries.
The husband doesn't know it yet, but I'm going all on my very own to the supermarket.
All by my very-lovely-lonesome self.
Hahaaaaa!


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A.C. Grayling (of whom I am a fervent fan)#1

. . .the most important philosophical question we can each ask ourselves is, ‘Do I or do I not wish to commit suicide?’ 

If we say, ‘No I do not,’ as most of us would, it is because we have reasons for living, or at the very least real hope that we can find such reasons. 

Then the next question is: what are the reasons I personally have for saying ‘No’ to that question? 

The answer contains the meaning of my life.

 

A.C. Grayling

The God Argument: The Case against Religion and for Humanism  

C'est Le Weekend: Up, up and away

It is cold here, and rainy in the Nether Lands.
The boys were shooed off to school, and Son#3 and I have sequestered ourselves in the warmth of the house for the morning.
I have, exciting exciting, laundry to do, and an early dinner to put together.
Son#2 is starting swimming lessons today, and Son#1, Rugby.

Last night, the husband and I went to dinner and a movie.
Wonderful dinner at the Greek restaurant, then on to see Gravity, spectacular scenes, although the overly dramatic music got to me after a while.
But it was riveting.

In a second, I'm phoning the radiologists to schedule my dad's radiation for the nasty old tumours on his sinuses.
It is starting to obscure his vision, pressing against his ocular nerve, and that's not a good thing.
He was so tired yesterday, and my sister-in-law looked after him while my mom was at work.
The times we live in are daunting, scary.
The health officer at work is right:  I throw up smoke screens in order not to think about my feelings overly much.
I'm o.k. with it for now though.
God knows what will roll out if I give in to anything right now.

Off we go, into another weekend.
And I hope, fervently, that it will be a good one.


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And draw!

I'm at work after being stuck in traffic jams this morning.
A last minute effort to prepare for my lesson that I neglected to do, and here we are: 
Just 4 students pitched up for class.
I'm making them write tests.
Us Educators are useless, you know.
Half the time, you wonder where the hell you'd like their learning experience to go.

In 20 minutes, I have a meeting with the university's health person, to discuss my (slow) progress in stress management.
I'm sort of wondering if it's not my thought processes that are so awfully awry, but just the fact that I have a lot of stress, that I get too little sleep.

But.
The sun is shining, I have free coffee and tea.
Those things already make me happy.

*Update* 

The health person says I rationalize things too much.  Put some emotion in, Yo!

Emotions are good (apparently).

And away it goes

Judging by the number of times this image has been shared on Facebook, I can only conclude that I am not alone in this world.

A humbling thought.

And comforting!

My dad was released from hospital yesterday.
He told my mom that he was 'so happy'.
Happy is good.
My brother is going to look after him during the day when my mother is at work.

Son#3 and I are going in search of shoes for Son#1's Rugby lessons.
And drinking coffee and milk.
Cuddling.
Some reading.
A quiet day.

..