On Strike Till Further Notice

I need to write so badly Lord…please give me words so that I can empty my soul of the emotional turmoil that binds me like a strait jacket.  My world is a blur such that I think I just numbed out yesterday.  My body is still doing all the motions, my mouth speaks words that make the outside appear to be functioning.   But inside is reality. Inside there is chaos and fear.  Inside my mind is a whirl wind, no, more like a tornado, of thoughts that are exploding.

It’s odd how you start your week with a plan or at least an inkling of what is or should be.  I ask my Father for direction, courage, and strength to do what He’d have me to do, with grace. But this body and mind He’s provided to “do”, has done give out.

The list of needs for Tommy’s mom and my parents multiplies with each passing year…but so do the needs of our children.  I’ve long given up on “me time” or “Tommy time.”  That’s not even an option this week or even this year.  I waved my white flag, surrendering non-existing rights to God and said, “use me.”  But today I’m at a loss of how to continue.  It seems that by the end of each day, Tommy and I’ve patched up as many leaky holes as we can, but waking up today I can’t face any more. Even with each child and parent seemingly waiting patiently, there is only so long one can push back a building flood behind the dam.  Until something or someone, cracks.

Despite getting dad a home physician, he has four specialist visits planned over the next few weeks, colostomy surgeon, urologist, ear nose and throat doctor, kidney doctor, Mom can no longer take him on her own. Her aide can help some, but that costs more money, which mom wisely tries to conserve. Plus my pride and need to be there for her, kicks and screams in tantrum at the reality that the aide now spends more time now with my parents than I.  She has become a part of their daily life and their dependence on her grows equal to my increasing absence to physically help them.  That in itself has pierced me clean through.

Mom has her own waiting list of things that need attention that will likely not happen.  But it’s not just the physical time required to take care of my parents, but the decision making, planning, and tremendous emotional support that they need. It feels like they're within inches of having everything we’ve juggled since daddy’s stroke nearly 30 years ago, come crashing into a big heap at the door of the local nursing home. And no one wants that.  It would be the end of both of them.

Tommy’s mom who has managed this last year with such beauty and grace, has a lot of needs too.  I’ve wanted to step in and help with the last years of her life. We promised to take care of her after his dad died last year.  Her eye surgery this week and the care she needed afterwards required a sacrifice of time, love, and physical help.  I was thrilled to be able to finally do something for her after all these years.  But in getting closer to her emotionally, I saw so much more that could be done to make her life better. There is only so much Tommy’s brother can do on his own.  She has spent her entire life serving others and its time to give back.

After being allowed to patch a few leaky holes this week for her, I turned around and saw many more within my children’s lives that were begging attention. Home schooling,  two doctor visits for Andrew plus getting Endocrine lab work that was five weeks late, STARR Testing trips to Dallas, camp counselor with Lydia next week, Luke’s upcoming musical in May, costumes for the Hunger Games senior banquet at church....its only the beginning. Schedules dance in my head long after bedtime screaming for attention from my brain and leaving migraines to deal with in the morning.  Add in my hot flashes, irritability, and poor sleeping that signal menopause and OMG, I’m forgetting bits and pieces of nearly everything, leaving puddle-like trails of half-fulfilled results that please no one.

And money, always money, there isn’t enough to cover anything.  So we throw a little in too many directions and cover the rest with plastic credit and prayers.  Yesterday, after I’d mistakenly left some of Tommy’s mom’s luggage back at our house, I thought I couldn’t handle one more crisis.  But alas, we weren’t finished yet.  An angry outburst from one member of the family resulted in the destruction of Andrew’s school lap top.  What do you do?  We used it as a teaching lesson on anger management and forgiveness…a very expensive lesson. I was proud of all involved after the flames died out.  Satan’s schemes got turned into a priceless picture of grace.  Though love and forgiveness may have fixed feelings, we were still left with another leaking hole.

Feeling a sensation of drowning, I crashed into bed with a couple of Benadryl for sleep; hearing in my head that regardless of all my efforts to make a difference, nothing had been done well, wrapped up neatly, and finished.  After crying a bit, I swore I was going to stay in bed today, on strike till further notice.