Give Me Your “Throwaway’s”

As I was speaking about my brother to someone one day, he said, “Well you know most people consider people like him, as “a throwaway.” This infuriated me. The mere thought, that he could be referred to in this manner. Yet, I know, that it is true. Once, these beautiful souls become, “Wards of the State,” you cannot imagine the horror’s that await them.

The elderly, the orphans, and the mentally challenged. All require protection and the exploitation, which is taking place is unimaginable. And it’s only detected by someone with a watchful eye. But someone with a heart of compassion. Not too many, I have sadly found, have this heart.

But, in the end, I am happy to take the “throwaway.’s. I’m just making sure that what belongs to them is returned, so they receive the care that they deserve.

One thing that these greedy people have never taken into account, in their schemes, is there is a supreme God, and that He is the one who holds all things in account. He has His people on this earth, working out His plans. He has people filled with His spirit. We see things which the average person does not see.

This is why He tells us that His plans are not worked out through “Might,nor power, but by His Spirit.” No man can put a stop to what He is doing. It has already been accomplished.

As frustrated as I become, at times, I must remind my own mind of this. That, “His kingdom, shall come, and His will , shall be done, on this earth, as it is in heaven.” My job is to just be obedient to His plan. As much as I hurt inside at the pain, I know the outcome.

I also know that His suffering was great and if He was, “a man of sorrows,” I am the bride of Christ, so I would also be “filled with suffering.”

But one day, “He will wipe every tear from my eyes.” All I can say is, He is going to need a huge Kleenex for this, because I’m filled with tears. Some nights, I lie in my bed and almost can’t wait, to close the door, to be alone, just to cry. I hurt for so many others. It’s not for myself. It’s the pain of my brother,my mother, my daughter, my father. Everything, that hurts comes pouring out like a river, and I feel as if I’m walking with a fire inside of me.

I truly understand the meaning of our seeing the Lord face to face, when He utters the words, “Well done, my good and faithful servant, enter into your rest.” I don’t know that feeling until that day.

But, my feeling of compassion for the hurting in this world is so strong.I see them, crushed by the system. And one day it is coming to an end. Babylon will fall.

Now I was reading about her demise this morning. She is a picture of greed and adultery. All the merchants of the earth and the powerful people, who had refused to let go of their associations with her. The Lord issues warnings to all, to “come out of her.” I have been instrumental in being part of this warning to agencies as well.”

There are government agencies which have become corrupted, which we have seen. They have exploited God’s people, and taken that, which does not belong to them. Now the Lord is issuing His call. “Come out of her my people so that you will not share in her sins, so that you will not receive any of her plagues; for her sins are piled up to heaven.

and God remembered her crimes.

Give back to her as she has given; pay her back double for what she has done. Mix her a double portion from her own cup. Give her as much torture and grief as the glory and luxury she gave herself.

In her heart she boasts, “I sit as a queen; I am not a widow, and I will never mourn. Therefor in one day her plagues will overtake her; death, mourning and famine. She will be consumed by fire, for might is the Lord God who judges her.”

Now, if you continue to read, you will see, that this is the beginning of fallout for this great nation and I am seeing this with my own eyes. There are some out there who happen to know exactly how this is playing out. We all have the playbook. It’s in His Word.

The little things which people skipped over in scripture are sometimes the most important. When the Lord was being challenged about taxes, for example; He held a coin before the Pharisees and uttered the simple words, “Render unto Cesar, that which is Cesar’s, and unto God, that which is God’s.”

For some people, they have robbed both God, and Cesar, and this is where, the Lord, is the most angry. But when they, rob, and refer to these priceless souls as discards, this is deplorable.

I’m not sure if it’s the reason I’ve always loved shopping thrift stores. But, I love to find the ‘one of a kind,’ item. This is what I see with my ‘throwaways.’ The one that is unique. No one else noticed how priceless this one is, but I did.

Yes, the coal, under so much pressure, to produce this priceless diamond. And now I can see the different facets and the light of beauty created by this intense heat and pressure.

I don’t want what everyone has. I want what cast off. What you deem as useless. I want to see what the Lord can do, so that I can say, He did this. So that I can’t boast, but that the glory of the Lord can shine through that vessel.

The Simple Life

My brother is just so funny. I feel blessed to have him in my life. He makes me laugh so hard.  It’s wonderful for my mother to share this time with him too, since he had been living apart from her for many years.

I’ve noticed that he and the other people with special needs bring home beautiful pictures. The other day I was looking at this picture and I said, “Kevin, this is not yours. You’ve taken someone else’s picture by mistake.” He promptly picked up a pen and crossed out the other persons name and wrote his own name on the top! Then he said, “There you go.” As if life is just that easy. Take what you want. I wonder how many times he’s seen that done I thought. “Hmm,” I said. “He’d make a great attorney!”

My mother and I were laughing so hard at him. In his world forgery was nothing. If you like it, make it yours.

I looked at all of the artwork and started looking at the things in my home. I realized that life is just too short to collect things. The beauty of simple things that the artwork my brother produces, is better than anything one can purchase.

I sat in my living room and was sad when I noticed a small cardboard box which held the belongings which my mother was left with after being moved from her home. I took a picture. I cried to think this was so important to her.The Barbie dolls which she used to knit clothing for. No one could believe that she could do this and it was something that she took great pride in. The little Charlie Brown that plays music. The pictures. I managed to get the bronze shoes from my brother Dennis who had passed away as a baby. These she somehow never lost in all of her shuffling through the years. It is difficult to see my mother’s life reduced to a cardboard box. But then I look around and feel the weight of all the things in my life holding me down. I don’t want anything in my life. I can’t stand things holding me back from what is important. I hate greed and what it does to people. It hurts me to see what it has done. I don’t want to take care of things. Although I love looking at my brother’s pictures. And my mother’s things. It’s cute, but we all have the propensity to collect. So I want to bring joy to other’s by giving.

Now I got my mom into a pottery class to learn something new. She was making me laugh with her antics. When the teacher told her to “pinch her pot,” she said, “What?” “Yea, I said, “That meant something completely different in the 70’s!” Now she’s learning a different skill at 82 and she’ll be able to make new memories and so will I.

I realized that life is not about owning things. In fact the more time I spend with my mother, the more fleeting I see that our time is on this earth. I see that those who have robbed and tried to fill their lives with things, are missing the most important qualities.

My mother and I listened to my brother talking last night. He was telling us about the lipstick that he was going to give his girlfriend at school. He was going to put it in his purse. It’s really a fannypack. He crams all kinds of stuff into that purse. Sometimes I’ll check it just too unload some things. It’s so stuffed full. I just have to see what he’s carrying around and it’s funny. Pictures of things unrelated. I try to connect the subjects, but can’t seem to and move on. The objects make no sense,but they amuse me.

The keychains that I have given him have all found a place on this pack. I have actually had to remove some,because it has become unsafe. The weight of this is ridiculous. And the fact that one of them is a round basketball for coins, makes it hilarious with his gait and when he bowls, underhanded, my son made the remark that it’s a good thing I didn’t give him the bull’s you know what, to hang from this pack, or it would be quite a sight to behold, when he bends down to bowl! This visual just made me crack up.

He is very animated. And when he tells us that someone threw up at school it’s hilarious. He is over the top. I don’t think it happened the way he tells us and at times, I only wish I could place a hidden camera on him. There was one day that he told me that one person threw up and another girl was told that “she stinks and needed to go into the bathroom,” while the teacher was spraying the bathroom. And later, he said the same girl was his girlfriend. My son, who is not easily grossed out, said, “Come on, I don’t want to hear this! You’re girlfriend stinks!” And my brother as proud as could be, said, “Yes, she stinks! Right?” Wow! That’s unconditional love at it’s best! And, all I can say is, those special education teacher’s work very hard, and deserve pay raises!!! Treat them well. They’re very special people.

But,people like my brother are also very special and he keeps me centered. I sometimes find I’m taking him for granted and when I come back to him, I find humor in his simple words and beauty in the world around him. It is just what God was trying to point out to all of us and the reason He told us that “the meek would inherit the earth.”

Look at what a mess we have made of all of this. Greedy people have tried to use people like my brother for selfish gain. I’ve had people say, “They look at your brother like a throwaway.” That has brought me unspeakable pain.” Yes, even at his birth they thought he wouldn’t live. But God had a different plan. And his plans were to bring men to repentance through my brother. Yes, my brother who is so innocent. Who would take an art project and cross someones name and sign his name, would do this with anything. He knows no difference. He tells me everything costs “a hundred dollars.”

But who cares? My brother puts everything in perspective. Whether it a billion dollars or a penny, in his mind it’s the same price. Just as the value of a soul is worth more than everything. And as the Lord has said, “Woe to the man who gains the whole world, yet loses his own soul.”

They Put the ‘Special’ in Special Ed

Now I’m really getting tired of these stories of Special Education, teacher’s making fun of their students.

This is a very unique job and one which requires people with compassion and sensitivity. I know. My brother was born with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. He would appear completely ‘normal,’ accept, he has the mentality of a young boy and he has a slight gait, due to cerebral palsy. Oh, and his vocal cords were severely damaged, making it almost impossible for people to communicate with him.

He is a sweet loving person. Innocent as a child can be. Which also makes him, very easy to exploit. He had many along his journey, who have taken advantage of him. He has scars on his arms from serious burns he experienced, and still it’s difficult for me to determine what happened and by whom. He explains in his best language, which I can understand. He was working at his job at Pizza Hut. They had him washing the dishes, (which he shouldn’t have been doing.) He had some kind of a spray washer and it was scalding hot. It burned his arms and he was taken to the hospital. He tells me, “They gave me shots. It hurt.” I always get very upset when I hear this.

I know he lived in a small town, before I went to bring him home to live with me. In this town, there was an organiztion, which claimed to be, A Supportive Living organisation. Which basically meant, they would take all the people with special needs and cram them into little apartments. They had a couple ‘caseworkers,’ check on them at some point during the day.

My brother lived with a guy named, David He had a bad temper, and repeatedly abused my brother. I only found these things out, by talking with the other people in this apartment building. One woman told me that my brother was so sick. And she called the agency to have them take him to the doctor. They refused and she took him herself.

I was furious to find out about all of these things. Incident reports are supposed to be filed and family notified. But these poor people have had their basic human rights, stripped away. I see a long scar on his back and wonder at this as well.

Since I was a young girl, I had grief at the loss of my brother to a state institution. He was placed later with a loving family. Then he was placed again, in a group home. I had visited the group home, many times. I liked the people running this home. They were loving and my brother and other resident’s loved it.

Then it was closed, to begin the grand scheme. The supported living, was nothing more than a cover for a money laundering scheme. They had all of them sign up for funeral trust funds and started placing the funds into them. A bunch of attorney’s and tax exempt specialists. Using my brother and others like him, as their cash cows. One scam after another and never stopping to think about the care of their wards. They were just throw-aways.

I am getting very upset at the manner in which people treat them. When I stepped into an elevator at the courthouse yesterday, a woman was talking to her friend about something. She said, “That’s so retarded!” The hair stood up on the back of my neck, and short of glaring at her with an angry remark, I bit my tongue.

How can ignorance come to an end when even, people who claim it’s racist to mention color, make songs, referring to being retarded? Unless someone actually has a loved one who is mentally challenged or has some disability, there seems to be no empathy.

After reading this story today, I wondered, why would these people devote time to careers which involve people with ‘special needs,’ when they don’t even like them? It breaks my heart to hear these stories.

It seems to me that an appropriate punishment for these teachers and so-called, professionals, who have exploited their students and wards, should be placement in a ‘special education class themselves. A place where they would see how truly ‘slow,’ they are. That they have no grasp or concept of what ignorance really means. The word retarded or mentally challenged. If they truly understood, they would realize that it applies to their own behavior.

The special needs, which my brother has and everyone like him, are the need for love and compassion. Everything else falls into place, when those needs are met. And those needs aren’t just reserved for people who are like you and me.

My brother has a companion who comes to take him to his social functions. I feel so blessed, because she is a woman who has chosen this profession because of her desire to make their lives better. There are some who only choose these professions because of pay. Well, I have news for these people, if that’s the motivation for entering this ‘very special,’ field. There won’t be enough pay to satisfy. Without passion for people like my brother, they are going to be miserable and make his life miserable as well.

As a man reminded me the other day, “If you love what you’re doing, you never work a day in your life.” My request for all of you is, to please choose another line of work. Stay away from these very special people.

I’m also speaking as a word of warning. The Lord told us; “The least of these are the greatest in the kingdom of God. A time is coming when the ones who have brought harm to these people, will give account.

After posting this, I saw another horrible article about someone abusing these people. This certainly seems to be an epidemic. And yes, I’m positive it was for their Social Security payments. I believe the government needs a special task force, to investigate all of these people and the money trail. At the end, I believe they will find fraud in the majority of cases.

Help! I’m talking and I Can’t Shut Up!

Yesterday, I took my son and my brother to watch the Miami Dolphins train, at their training facility.My brother absolutely loves, football, although, to him, the Green Bay Packers, are the only one that really count.My brother, reminds all of us of, Dustin Hoffman’s character, Rain Man. Though, he is not autistic, he is mentally challenged, and when he’s stuck on something, it doesn’t change.

So it was extremely, surprising when, even he, despised, Brett Favre, when he left the Packers. Yes, his idol, Brett, became the enemy. After all, he was playing for the Vikings, in the end, and everyone knows, that you don’t go against the Packers! I wondered, “What in the world would he do, if Brett Favre, ends up as a Quarterback, for the Dolphins?” As I heard this rumor.

It has been years, and I still try to convince my brother, to be a fan of the Florida teams. And he loves to watch sports, no matter, who’s playing, but if they’re up against any Wisconsin team, it’s an automatic; Florida’s going down.Each year, he tells us “the Packers are going to the Superbowl.” And most of the time, he’s right. Although, on the rare occasion, that they’re not in it, he switches teams, back and forth, with whichever one is winning.To him, the opposite team is always called, “The Eagles.” No offense guys, but my brother, somehow has learned that your name is synonymous with, Losers. Don’t blame me, I even sent him on a trip to Philadelphia, to watch a game, and he is still, not going to let you off the hook. He was must have been conditioned, by a mob of Packer loving, Eagle haters. So someone else is to blame.

He has no shame in his game,and everyone laughs, as he goes right up to the TV screen, and does his animated, thumbs down! I enjoy watching, him, way more than the game. I know how much he loves being a part of something, which involves, a team.

So, I thought, “hey, these two are going to love watching the Dolphins train. When they see the camera’s on the news, and all the die-hard fans, who come to watch them, they’ll be inspired.

The training camp is right near me, so it’s really a fun thing to do. The last time we were here, was a few years ago, and it was pouring down rain. So we had to leave. I still managed to get some good pictures of my son and brother, with some of the players. But that’s about all we did.

Today, it was 89 degrees, and of course, all of us forgot the sunscreen. I usually have it in my car, but had just cleaned out my car. So this is not good. I decided to bring my little, pink umbrella to shield us from the sun.Of course, I knew, I would have to put it down, when they began to play.Well, as the sweat was already dripping down my back into my shorts, I said to my son, “I look like a wet my pants already!” I’m thinking, I’m already soaked, and they are only in practice.

A woman came over to tell me I would need to close the umbrella, until I told her I had intended to keep it open, only until the game began. She agreed, that this would be fine. She probably saw, that my brother’s bald head, unprotected, would be like a red beacon, which would be far more distracting than my pink umbrella. My face and that of my son, so fair, probably gave her compassion. “Oh, that’s fine, as long as you close it when they are ready to play.” Oh, those small kindnesses. I reprimanded my brother, once more, about his failure to remember his hat. And this would have been a perfect time to wear, his autographed, Packers cap. He almost gave it away at my last yard sale, and I was incredulous. “How could you put this in the pile?” I asked him. Here I find myself, being a total contradiction. I try to teach him to let go of things, and now I’m questioning why he would give that up? The autographs are very difficult to read anyway, but all I could surmise, is that Brett Favre’s, name is on it somewhere.

My son was asking for a ‘lemonade ice,’ before we even sat down. And at $4 a pop, this was going to be their first and their last one. I told him to “make it last.But I’m feeling sorry, that we are sitting here, because it is hotter than I imagined, and already, I’m thinking, there’s no way, we are staying for the whole game.

As the game is about to start, I close my umbrella. All of a sudden, I feel the presence of someone behind me, and I feel him bend forward. Right in between my son and me. Already so hot, I can feel his breath as he speaks, “Hey, is that Reggie Bush?” He asks me. “I really don’t know.” I tell him. Truth be told, the only one I know, is Jason Taylor.Every woman’s crush.

I have the team roster, but it’s really not accurate. As this guy, starts to talk, I realize one thing. “He is about to start a ramble session, like I’ve never heard in my whole life.He begins to tell us that he has been in the presence of such great people. Not just the Dolphins,but many Hollywood stars. He’s been in the movie, with Tom Cruise. On and on he goes. Everything he speaks, seems disjointed. In my mind, I’m trying to analyze, how he connected from one subject to another. Though it didn’t take long to see, he had a strong desire, to prove, he was important, by association. On and on he rambled. As my son stated, later, “There wasn’t even a period, in his sentence!” I was impressed, that my son had even noticed, this ‘run-on sentence,’ as grammatical error.

I have listened, as I’m trying to watch the players.”Oh, they’re just like real people,” he says. Which makes me laugh. I thought they were real people. But no matter, this guy does not need any encouragement from me.He continues, that he had encounter’s with one of the players, at a restaraunt, when he was dining with his family. “His wife was pregnant,” he said, and she was like this.” He makes a gesture,to show the girth of her stomach. As if I didn’t know what pregnant, really meant. All I could imagine, is this poor guy, with his family, having to be accosted, by Greg’s mouth. I wonder if the guy had a chance to eat.

He literally does not take a breath, and then he tells me that, his mother is an actress, and she’s always given him, one word, of advice. (Hmm, this ought to be good), She tells me, “Greg, if I give you any advice, it’s this,” LISTEN!” She says. Oh, my gosh! It’s obvious that he has not!  Poor mom, must be going insane, and I can only imagine, that Word, came in a shout!

Then he continues, “You have to know when to talk, and when to be quiet.” Is this a joke? I’m thinking. Am I on one of those shows, “What Would You Do?” Cause in my mind, I’m saying, “Shut Up!” But, I actually feel sorry for him. I’m starting to think, he’s mentally challenged, like my brother. Surely, no one can have a problem like this, unless they have something wrong. Or perhaps he’s on drugs. But no, he has a history. As he tells me about living with his mom and the way she speaks to him, I’ve gathered, with my investigative skills, that he is much closer to the Rain Man, character, than my brother is.

Then he continues talking about the movie he was just in, with Tom Cruise. Then the most amazing thing; He starts imitating, Rain Man. My son, finally turns around and starts cracking up. He starts to engage him, with the banter, since they both know all the parts of this movie. And they speak in unison, “Of course, Judge Wopner, at one clock!” I’m laughing at this. My brother loves the movie as well. I always wonder, if he is able to perceive himself, as this person. At any rate, Greg, should really think of auditioning for this part in community theater. He’d certainly be a natural!

I finally realized that I’m clearly not going to see any of this game, and we’re on so uncomfortably hot, it isn’t worth it. I declare, “It’s time to go.” My son’s relief was  clearly evident, and he almost seem to convey, “What took so long?” We stood up, and I say to Greg, who claims to know everyone, “Put in the good word for me, with Jason Taylor.” “Oh!” He says, “I will, but how do I get in touch with you?” Oh no you don’t, I’m thinking, even, if any of this was true, and at the risk, of losing, my connection to JayTay, I’m not giving up any of that info!

After returning to the car, my son, who usually is the one talking, said, finally, “What was wrong with that guy?  I couldn’t watch anything, cause jabber-jaws, was in my ear the whole time!” I know, I admitted, I think he’s mentally challenged.” “No, he’s not.” My son was not convinced, as he was comparing him to my brother. But I had to point out, not everyone has the same, mental disorder.

“I think it was because he was hitting on you!” He said, making it clear, that it was my fault, as usual. I just hope, my son got a clear picture, of this. And he learned a very important lesson; when your mother gives you advice, “Take It!”

Let’s Get Retarded???

A child's heart


I was shocked when I went to the pool party at the park yesterday. The 4th of July was in full swing and I had taken my son and my brother, who happens to be mentally challenged..or as some would say, retarded. 

I had him and my son in the pool and I put a life jacket on my brother, as I know he is terrified of the water, since he cannot swim. When I brought him to live with me, I showed him how to float with the life jacket on and he kicks his feet and moves his arms to swim. I honestly believe this is the first experience he’s ever had with floating in a life jacket and he loves it. 

There was a DJ playing music poolside and all of a sudden I heard it. A song I actually used to like. I never heard these lyrics before and I was very angry when I listened. “Let’s get retarded in here. Get stupid.” Wait a minute, this sounds just like The Black Eyed Peas! There’s no way they would have written this. After all, these are black men, minus Fergie, yet who would know better what cruelty  it is to mock some people who did not choose this life for themselves?  It is equivalent to mocking a person for the color of his skin, or hair, or culture. 

To use such a song to mock these people, would be equivalent to a band throwing the ‘N” word around, as if it’s just a way to entertain. How would this group feel to have that word inserted, where they used the word “retarded?” 

I am so upset, I just lost my whole love for their music in one fell swoop. What hypocrisy and stupidity. Who’s really retarded? After all the oppression against blacks, and the progress made to end this, are the mentally challenged exempt from any such consideration? Why? Because they don’t know any better? 

Well, the people who love them do! My brother was born with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. The very object of his life supply was now strangling him. Cutting off oxygen and damaging his vocal cords to the point where he can barely express himself to those around him. 

When I was a young girl, and he was still living with us, my mother had an extremely difficult time. She had six children and had just lost a son. I watched her struggle as she tried to do the simplest things in our home. She had my brother in a harness and he could play in the yard, but his harness was attached to the pole that held the clothesline. He had the ability to come in the house and go back out, without straying from the yard. This was the only way she could do her chores. 

On occasion, as he played, I would hear the voices of children passing the yard. I looked out my window to witness kids taunting my brother. I was so hurt and angry that I would scream at them to leave him alone! I would run out to him and comfort him. Wasn’t it hard enough for him? To know he couldn’t do the things other kids could do? 

Later, the care of my brother became too much for my mother. She had a breakdown and this is when she placed him in an institution. When I went with my siblings to visit, he would cry so hard, to come home with us. I always cried too and was tormented at the thought of leaving him. I vowed that one day, I would bring him home and allow him to try all the things that other children participate in. 

Of course in these days, there is so much more for people like my brother and I have been blessed to find angels everywhere, who lend their time and energy to give my brother and others like him a chance to ‘fit in.’ 

And this is exactly why I was so shocked to hear a very successful group of musicians, singing something so disgusting. And the fact that it was a group of people who should know what this ignorance can do to bring harm, is just the pinnacle of shame. 

I decided the minute I heard that song, that I would not listen to them anymore. I had to think of their lyrics, “let’s get retarded in here” Hmm,seems to me, they got what they asked for.   

But, as for my brother; he has the mind of an innocent child and totally oblivious to such nonsense. Which, by comparison, makes him a genius next to those who would degrade him!

Being a mother at 5


I try to search for answers. I am amazed and sad at the same time.

My mother, who started out with trauma as a young woman, has never experienced anything else in her life.
Losing her son when he was just a baby and divorcing at the same time. Having six other children to deal with and another two that were mentally challenged with cerebral palsy. This was caused from birth complications.
The culmination of these events put her into a hospital and I, being the oldest capable child, inherited the position of mother.
My mother has had more trauma since then, and we have all learned to be resilient, since it wasn’t just her grief, but our own that we had to bear.
My sister reminded me of how childlike my mother is and totally dependent on us. Although she will never say that…it is a fact.
My sister also reminded me that “although three of us, raised mom, we didn’t do a very good job!” lol I thought that hilarious, but the reality is that it’s true.
I know this, yet seem unable to see others as manipulating me. Although I can see it being done to them and it makes me angry. I don’t feel this sense of anger when someone does it to me.
Does that seem odd? I know if I was watching someone else enduring all that I have endured, I would say, “why doesn’t she do something about that? It’s obvious that they are taking advantage of her kindness? Yet, I am always reminded that the word, “co-dependent” is not found in the bible.
So, this is how I have learned to live. Is it a bad thing? I don’t know. I always ask the Lord to show me
An example of a situation in my life. I shared that a few months ago, I helped my mom pack boxes and get her apartment ready for a move. She was dead set on moving to another state, even though I didn’t feel good about the whole situation. I ended up being stuck in Milwaukee because of a snowstorm and I felt this was the Lord showing me that I could help my mother.
I could see that she was in a lot of pain and she complained of her leg hurting her. I asked if she was going to the doctor and she assured me that as soon as she arrived at her destination, she would have an appointment.
Of course the people who were supposed to show up and help her move did not show up. My brother and cousin and I did all the work.
I was so upset about this whole move, that I cried. My mom seemed so frail and I would massage her legs for her and try to care for her so she’d be comfortable All this in addition to her name-calling. Yes, she’s very argumentative and will come out with names such as “stupid,” all the time. It’s something I’ve been accustomed to. She had a slew of names for me as I was growing up. and she never notices the hurt. Although at one point when she stated, “I would have rather had all boys than any girls” I think she saw the hurt on my face.
I just chalk this up to her problems she’s had since we were children. I realize I can’t become a boy and more than she can stop saying these things.
So, the other day, to receive a phone call from her, was rare. What was even more rare is that she was saying she absolutely could not stand the pain she was in, and she needed help. She also stated that she no longer wanted to live in this state that she so recently moved to.
I asked why, my sister had not taken her to the doctor and she told me that she didn’t have insurance. I had to tell her, “you do have insurance with your Medicare, and besides, I don’t care if you do or not, you need to get to the doctor!” I realized that it just wasn’t happening unless I made an appointment for her.
I Googled the offices in her area and made the call. I made the appointment and was told I had to get her to sign a medical release and fax it to her other doctor in Wisconsin. All the time while I’m wondering, why hasn’t this been taken care of already?
When I made my repeated phone calls back to her, she kept stating, “I’m ready to move! I can’t stand this anymore!” I reminded her that she had always been welcome to live with me and I had thought it the better choice since I’m in Florida. But she had been here years ago and didn’t want to stay. I suspect it was because my nephew, whom she had raised, was living in Wisconsin.
I told her, “Mom, you can have the guest room or I can even convert the family room, if you can’t go up and down the stairs.” “You can? What about the furniture?” “Listen, furniture is nothing, I’ll just sell it or move it.”
Then she asked about her things. I honestly wouldn’t have moved anything from that apartment she lived in, but it seemed every piece of junk meant something to her. She also seems to think that furniture has some hidden value. I had to tell her, “Mom, there is no way, I’m going to rent a truck and move all that, if you decide to come. You just need to go through your sentimental items and we can ship them. But furniture isn’t worth the price you pay to move it.” (Especially hers)
She seemed to understand and agree….that is-until the following day.
Yes, this is the bi-polar mom kicking in. I call her the next day and she tells me, “You know, I’ve been thinking, I am not leaving any of my stuff here!” “Mom, I told you I’d help you move, but there is no way, I’m doing that with a truck. You just did that and it wasn’t worth moving that stuff once, let alone twice!”
“Also, ” she goes on, I’m not living with anyone. I want my own apartment.” “Ok, mom, this just isn’t going to work. There are community buses in the area that come right to the house and will take you anywhere you want to go.” “Oh, you mean for old people?” “Oh, my gosh, mom! They are for anyone, especially if a person can’t get around! Stop being so critical!”
“I’m not being critical, but I can get around!” “What? Are you now telling me that your leg is better?” “Yes, it’s feeling better,” she tells me. well, why don’t I just cancel that doctor’s appointment I made for you?” Now she backs down. “Well, I don’t always expect it to feel like this!” When I was visiting her, she could barely walk from the living room to the bathroom and my sister told me that she advised her to use a shopping cart to steady her weight, since what she really needs is a cane, but heaven forbid! That’s for old people! And hey, 80 is still quite young. Perhaps middle age. I’m sure 160 is the average lifespan for a person.
So, now I have her dictating to me, what and how she’s going to move and where she’s going to live. She starts arguing with me and I have to remind hr that I am taking care of my special needs brother and her two grandchildren as well. I brought my brother to live with me because I didn’t feel he was getting the best care in the place he was in, yet this is my mom’s first-born son, and she doesn’t seem to think about this. I know there is a lot of denial she’s living with, but once again, the hurt lands on me. And once again, I tell myself, she doesn’t know what she’s saying. Don’t take it personally.
Yes, if anyone has parents like this, you know how difficult it is. I didn’t grow up in a home where my mother lavished affection on me or praised me for any accomplishments. I had to fight against all the odds of listening to her prophesies of failure over me. The hurt and pain of dealing with a mother who needs our help, yet never acknowledges what we do for her. Instead, with one demand that is unmet, she will criticize.
I know she’s like a child and it’s her own hurt that causes her to hurt others. But as a child, we don’t really process this understanding of personalities. Now as an adult, I realize how serious a role, we play in our children’s lives. It has been my only desire to see her comfortable in these years of her life and she almost seems to gravitate to misery. Perhaps this I will never understand.
My prayer is that I will not become like this and will always acknowledge my children for their strengths, not their weakness. This is the fertile soil that allows self-confidence to grow.
I am of the belief that her mother treated her this way, and I do not wish to repeat this cycle.
I love her in spite of all of her shortcomings and my prayer is that one day she will be healed of her emotional pains as well as her physical.