I am angry today.
The county wants every penny back that Dennis received for care. Yes, he had money left and I was afraid this would happen, but I am still angry that it has happened.
I am angry at the social worker for not telling us that the help was simply a loan.
I am angry that Dennis had to work to receive this loan.
I am angry at Dennis for not gifting me the money like we discussed.
I am angry at myself for being angry.
Maybe I just needed a good excuse to cry. It's been weeks since I have had a good hard cry and maybe I just need one.
Lucky you, for reading this today. No comments of sympathy, please. I am just reporting the truth as it is today
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Recovery
The last three weeks I let Jane and Ralph take care of me. It wasn't until I came home to a needy cat and an even needier cat sitter, that I realized just how much I really needed to be cared for. As much as I miss Dennis, I do not miss the care-giving aspect of our relationship.
This week I took care of myself. I had three long over-due doctor visits and procedures and a dental appointment. I also contacted several friends and made plans for the next month for lunches, happy hours and walks around the lakes. I made a list of things that I need to complete to get the dead Dennis done with (taxes, county recovery reports, medicare....) allowing me to remember the rest of Dennis.
I also went back to work - my very part time job - and picked up a few new responsibilities to complete sometime over the next few weeks.
I programmed my Wii Fit Plus with a new program that would keep me working out for 43 minutes at a time. I still have my ChaLean program to work when I want (although I don't want right now) and my walks around the lakes.
Yes, I am on the road to recovery and building a new life.
Ann
This week I took care of myself. I had three long over-due doctor visits and procedures and a dental appointment. I also contacted several friends and made plans for the next month for lunches, happy hours and walks around the lakes. I made a list of things that I need to complete to get the dead Dennis done with (taxes, county recovery reports, medicare....) allowing me to remember the rest of Dennis.
I also went back to work - my very part time job - and picked up a few new responsibilities to complete sometime over the next few weeks.
I programmed my Wii Fit Plus with a new program that would keep me working out for 43 minutes at a time. I still have my ChaLean program to work when I want (although I don't want right now) and my walks around the lakes.
Yes, I am on the road to recovery and building a new life.
Ann
Sunday, March 13, 2011
A Walk in the Graveyard
I am back from a very helpful visit with my sister and brother-in-law in London. Jane and Ralph took great, nurturing care of me - feeding me, letting me be lazy, making plans for going places that I would enjoy, and taking long (for me, not for them) walks in various neighborhoods in London. For the first time in 2 or 3 years I let someone else take care of me.
A short walk from their home is a huge graveyard. It is multi-cultural, perhaps multi-denominational, but definitely it is large and ostentatious in places. It is the perfect place for long and quiet walks during the week. Jane and I went there once and then I took a walk there by myself one day.
On the walk with Jane I asked her to tell me about a time she remembered that Dennis was not sick. Dennis and I were together for 10 years; Dennis was sick for 6 years. Although I fell in love with a healthy man, I was having a difficult time remembering him without an aid to walk, a diaper or a fight needing to be fought. I needed to hear something else.
She was not able to remember much either, but did remember him both being aggravating by his over-indulgence of me one Christmas and by being fun at a baseball game that she indulged him in one afternoon while I worked. We never found a non-ill memory, but did finally get to a place in our walk where we were just plain laughing or simply living our lives in the moment.
A while later I walked again by myself. It was a place in London where I could talk aloud to myself, a very rare commodity. I talked, yelled and cried and no one noticed. Finally I sat down on a bench, generously provided by someone who was honoring someone else they loved. I told myself it was time to move forward, to plan a life by myself.
I can, and do, miss Dennis daily. Sometimes I miss his complaining, his whining and other days I miss his stories and his laughter. But I know that I must move forward. And I want to move forward. And there is really no other direction to go.
Ann
A short walk from their home is a huge graveyard. It is multi-cultural, perhaps multi-denominational, but definitely it is large and ostentatious in places. It is the perfect place for long and quiet walks during the week. Jane and I went there once and then I took a walk there by myself one day.
On the walk with Jane I asked her to tell me about a time she remembered that Dennis was not sick. Dennis and I were together for 10 years; Dennis was sick for 6 years. Although I fell in love with a healthy man, I was having a difficult time remembering him without an aid to walk, a diaper or a fight needing to be fought. I needed to hear something else.
She was not able to remember much either, but did remember him both being aggravating by his over-indulgence of me one Christmas and by being fun at a baseball game that she indulged him in one afternoon while I worked. We never found a non-ill memory, but did finally get to a place in our walk where we were just plain laughing or simply living our lives in the moment.
A while later I walked again by myself. It was a place in London where I could talk aloud to myself, a very rare commodity. I talked, yelled and cried and no one noticed. Finally I sat down on a bench, generously provided by someone who was honoring someone else they loved. I told myself it was time to move forward, to plan a life by myself.
I can, and do, miss Dennis daily. Sometimes I miss his complaining, his whining and other days I miss his stories and his laughter. But I know that I must move forward. And I want to move forward. And there is really no other direction to go.
Ann
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