WORDS  (not funny) - by M

When I was a sophomore in college, I took a psychology course in summer school. One of those 200 students stuffed in a hot stadium seating old classroom at 8 am classes. The teacher was a young, very geeky, slightly too hairy visiting professor. He asked us to call him Paul. He managed to fascinate this group of unmotivated sleepy students - well at least one of us. When we came in to class he was usually sitting yogi style on the table at the front of the classroom with his too big Birkenstocks neatly placed on the floor in front of him. One morning he wasn't there. About the time we were deciding to bail for the coffee shop, he walked in the back of the room and said “Masturbation.  Repeat after me, masturbation". Confused and uncomfortable,we responded weakly. He continued his prompt maybe 20 times as he walked to his table while we responded with more confidence and volume with every repetition. When he got to his table and settled himself, he looked around the room and said "is anyone still uncomfortable saying or hearing the word “masturbation”?  Okay, now we can discuss it".

Harry Potter says, “a word you can't speak has power over you.” 

I'm fascinated by words. Phoebe thinks there are too many of them. I collect them. I think they are our most power weapon and ally. I am usually not afraid of them. Some are fun to say like falafel and onomatopoeia.  Some represent my answer to world peace - tolerance and kindness. There are words I could never hear again and be just fine - like ointment, gristle and panties. Words that make my heart hurt like cruelty and stupidity. Words that I don't use because they are too adult, too personal and too awkward like masturbation, intercourse and die.

Talking (typing) to our hospice social worker last week, I started a sentence with "After I die..."  It was one of those moments when multiple strong contradictory emotions and revelations all collide in your brain.  The strongest was the revelation that I had not used those words before. I didn't think I had been avoiding them but apparently I had. Anybody who has done their homework knows ALS has a 99% mortality rate. This is not news. So Paul and Harry Potter, I am using the words.

I am going to die. No more "when the time comes", or "at the end" or "after I'm gone".  I am going to die.  Maybe tomorrow if lightning strikes, maybe in 20 years if I'm in line for a miracle. The next feeling was the unexpected relief of having spoken the words. No more being politically correct with myself. No more dancing around the word because I don't want to upset anyone or make them uncomfortable.

Everyone's assignment now is to repeat the words 17 more times. Is anyone still uncomfortable saying or hearing "You are going to die?” 
Okay, now we can discuss it".


-M

The elephant in the room

Man, we've neglected this thing a bit haven't we?? Whoops.

I felt the need to put some thoughts down tonight and, to be honest, there's only one person I really hope reads this post.

Momma, I love you. I cannot even begin to understand what must go on inside that amazing mind of yours. I'm sitting here with so much I want to say to you but I can't even get my head wrapped around my thoughts. Dad is going out of town this weekend and Phoebe and I are your substitute "caregivers". I really don't like that word. What I really want to say is that we're having a girls' weekend (with a husband or two and some children included). What I really want to say is that I'm spending the weekend with my mom. I don't want to say that I'm "taking care of my mom" this weekend. It makes it sound like a chore. Like a to do list item.

Mom, you are not a chore. You are not a to do list item. You are not a burden.

You, momma, are the woman who has taken care of me my entire life. You've loved me, supported me, picked me up, kicked my butt, encouraged me, praised me, comforted me, taught me, guided me, and stood by me through every up and down. There were seasons when I know it had to have been a struggle. I had some serious downs. The one thing I always knew I had though, even when I felt like I had nothing, I always knew I had you behind me.

I wish, oh how I wish, I didn't have to "take care" of you this weekend. I wish you could do all of these everyday tasks that we all take for granted by yourself. I wish that you didn't have to worry that your helplessness was going to make us sad. It's going to make us sad. There's just no getting around that. It's the elephant in the room. I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm scared. But, most of all, I am honored and grateful that you are still here for me to take care of. I'm grateful that I have the chance to love and support and care for you.

There is no greater gift from a parent to a child than their unconditional love and support. I'm grateful for it everyday and, I'm a better parent because of it. To be able to turn around as a child and give that back to you, because I want to, not because I have to... I just hope that you see and feel that same love and support that I have always felt from you.

I love you, momma, and I can't wait for this weekend!

io