Paul S

I know how shubom and Mark feel. (I've been going thru pretty much what Mark has, also. (Unemployed-actually underemployed, and previously a caregiver for my Mom. I also lost a home after being there for the last 10 years) I went thru a serious emotional rollercoaster in November/December when my Mom died on November 7th. It was mitigated when I started grief counseling. I can only say that being in a grief counseling environment, just knowing that the other person comprehends on some level what you're going thru, was the factor. However, the rollercoaster is back. Not as serious as before, but I think its just partly I've come thru one storm in Nov/Dec, and things calmed down a bit, and now I see more clearly what else needs to be done to pick up my life, then ***whammo*** I get hit. The other part may just be that's its the nature of the beast, this grieving thing. I read somewhere in my grief lit that sometimes people adopt the habits/hobbies of the deceased loved ones as a way of connecting with them, preserving their memory. Maybe that's not so bad, keeping them alive, in a way, at least in our lives. All I know is that I was touched by the posts in this thread, cuz I've also felt them. "Been there."

They say that "Time heals all wounds." Also, "Time wounds all heels." Maybe after a fashion bring it up and say how hurt you are. Maybe ask why he doesn't want videos of you. Again, I've never been married, so this is all speculation and conjecture, but I'm not certain I'd be too interested in videos of my wife to help after her pre-deceasing me. Maybe because they're moving pictures and would remind me of her being alive too much and bring up pain more easily. Still photos, while preserving her likeness, don't move, and therefore less lifelike. I dunno. Or maybe he's just dense. Been there.

Quoteth Maylissa (Paulski's emphasis added): "There isn't anyone standing between us and Him."...whoever said it! Yes, I think that's probably a good part of it - somehow feeling more exposed, as it were, and without any cushioning biases in our favour, OR even the familiarity of negative judgements, from our parent(s), to shield us from even our own view. I don't know...there's more to this, but I can't quite put my finger on it yet." Methinks you've put your finger on it, or darn close. Quoteth Maylissa, again: "I wonder....does it take the death of our parents for some of us to finally, truly grow up?" Yuppers! It goes back, I think, to the "Adult Orphans" thing. We are now the Patriarch or Matriarch of a family. (Well, potentially, at least. The head of our little household, which, for me now, is just me. We are forced to assume more responsibility for our affairs since that safety net thing is gone, (regardless how useful it was). Oot and aboot? Now, when I was back at Mom's house and had cable TV (gave it up. Can't afford it now, and will keep it off when I can afford it because its mostly all kaka for the $40-50/month extortion. When I can I plan to get a pooter with TV tuner and video card, and hi-speed ISP and watch selected TV that way. I think most of what I would watch is also available in webcasting.) the cable co had a CBC-TV station from Kingston, ONT. (Rarely watched except when the Olympics were on, cuz their coverage was ususlly better than the US network (Except the Summer '04 Games, the CBC commentators seemed to spend alot of their time whining about results, anyway. Curling is cool, too, I like that) I swear the CBC commentators, both the news people and sports (especially that hockey dude with the funky jackets and ties) always said "oot and aboot". I hope that last paragraph made sense. A lot of digressions. That smiley is findable if you click on 'show all'. He's called 'wacko' and is third up from the bottom. Green snow?? Where'd that come from?

To quote Maylissa: "Although this still begs the question: WHY is this such a scary notion? It certainly brings up feelings of aloneness, and I know why that's a frightening concept to me...but why should I be afraid of having no one to judge me? Very weird. Perhaps the Great Paul The Wise has some insight into this?" Yumpin' Yiminy!! NO pressure, there, huh!!! I think its a scary notion that despite how flawed and screwed up anyone's parents may be, there is still the ideal that they are/can be still/shoulda been always/ oracles of wisdom. Just an irrational comfort factor. There's that ideal in that there's hope, or maybe just the fact that they're still around. (Or, as Maylissa may say, being Canadian, "Oot and aboot!" ) Eh? Anyhow, maybe also the fear is, an again, regardless of how great or messed up our parents were, maybe they didn't teach us enough or there is still something to learn from them, (successes and misteaks) and now we definitely have to figure it all out by ourselves from now on. And we have no one else to blame. (Although I never was one of those who blamed my parents for anything that was wrong with me. Maybe in weak moments, but overall I take full responsibility for any of my wierdnesses.) Why you may be afraid how having no one to judge may lie in the (ideal) of the unconditional nature of a parent's love and the just or constructive judgement they can offer. We're now one less removed from God. There isn't anyone standing between us and Him. (This isn't my thought, I got this from a grief book, I don't remember which.) This is regardles of what religion or spirituality one is, the depth or lack of we get from Mom and Dad. I dunno, I'm running out of babblings. Oh, the pressure!!!!!

Can I come over, too?

I also feel that life has become pointless after I've become an "Adult Orphan". Mom and Dad watched me grow up, screw up a lot, succeed some and so on. Now they are no longer there. There is no longer anyone around who loves us unconditionally who can judge us or advise us. Our safety net is gone. Despite how old we are, our parents are still a safety net. They can tell us what's what. Once that's gone, who's left? OMIGAWD, ME. Even if the parents aren't perfect, (who's are?) if you are grieving over their loss, then there was love. Life is pointless for a while, because Mom and Dad will never be around to see my future successes, will never meet any future wife and grandkids. I am now totally in charge of my life. If that doesn't make me wiggy,...then I withdraw into feeling that life is pointless, and therefore safer than taking action. Why bother, if its all useless? And so I begin a journey. I think the pointless period is just a sort of wandering around aimlessly while I re-magnetize my compass. (Wow, now that's a catchy phrase. Sometimes I wonder where I get these.) Anyway, the geographic cure that Maylissa speaks of may, in this case, be a neccessary one. Of course, in addiction recovery circles, people who "do a geographic" are always warned that they have a tendency to take themselves with them. The old self tags along and makes a mess of things in the new location, just like in the old. So we change, we recover. "Recover" doesn't always mean to regain what was lost, i.e. the old life that existed when the deceased was with us, or to regain the life that might have been had the addiction never been realized. It could also mean, to "re-cover". (Yeah, like to reupholster) You've got you, something was ripped from you, and now yo've got to repair yourself. For any Christians present, this may be akin to what Jesus said about not pouring new wine into old wineskins. You have a new way of life now that the old is irreversibly changed, you need to adopt a new packaging. (Hmm... I've got to post this part in my recovery discussion forum.) Anyway, like Maylissa and a couple others, I have few friends too, and I feel I've got tons to offer people. Most of my friends are online or at a geographic distance because of moves, but at the moment I don't care. Lack of deep roots (in part caused by my alcoholism-sober now almost 4 years, and my reclusive life due to caregiving my Mom) frees me to relocate once my life stabilizes. It still hurts being lonely, but despite a heckuva lotta introspection and examination, I can't figure that part out. Maybe that's where I'm supposed to be for now.

Hi all, thanks for all the input. Sorry, but I've been away and out of touch. Maylissa's been speaking for me anyway at least with regard to what to do about certain cold types and whether the rift is mendable. Identifying the problem with behavioral terms may help objectify and quantify the situation, and can help me and others cope with it in the long-term, ("information and knowledge" being power. Power over what? Maybe the recovery process and the re-establishment of one's life if the loss is significant to cause someone the need to seek out grief counseling and support groups and discussion forums like this. I'm the only one in the family who's doing this.) but the near-term crisis is not addressed. But anyway, back to my need, here. I guess the answer to "What to do?" is to basically do nothing. When there are disparate, conflicting ways of responding to the same problem, a rift is inevitable, especially, when for one's own sake of surviving one must attend to one's own needs. This was kind of the basis for my post, it just seems so selfish to do that. Yet in any program of recovery, members are told that they have "to be selfish before you can be selfless." Before tending to others' needs, you have to be able to cope with the problem on your own, otherwise you'll be useless to aid others. I guess its kind of like what they tell you on airplanes about the oxygen masks, you put it on yourself first before you can put them on your kids. Which, if I was still a kid, would probably send me to therapy years later. Anyway, I had asked about this because it was a puzzle for me, this seemingly irreconcilable notion that we have the right to grieve in our own way versus the problem of the differing ways that others cope. Maybe it was just a naive and plaintive wail on my part that families should just come together when the matriarch (or patriarch) dies, or any other important family member. "We all suffered a loss, we all are in pain, therefore how dare you disrespect me and defecate on my pain?" That is what I'd like to scream at my darling sister. But she wouldn't get it, she would just say that I'm too sensitive, or something that would imply that 'coming together' means submitting to her style and subordinating to her agenda. It is a complicated issue (well, duh!) and naturally pain is a result. There ain't no formal training in our culture, this is a response to the crisis after it happens, with no prior preparation. Hence, problems. Are they mendable? Depends, for me, the door to reconciliation remains open, but only after my sister is aware of and addresses the pain she's caused. Never gonna happen unless she has a breakdown of some sort. She's the executor of Mom's estate, and those responsibilities keep her mind off things (her explanation to my bro-in-law about her need for speedy action). What may happen after the estate is through probate, when state law permits the disbursement of whatever proceeds are left to the heirs and she has nothing official to do? What will she do to keep her mind off of Mom's death? Or can she? I don't know, but right now I just plan to duck and cover. Let the others in the family who've tried to play nice-nice with the two of us deal with THAT nuclear time-bomb. I do know, from my own greifwork, that if she doesn't address the loss in some beneficial way, there will be a breakdown. (Hence my ducking and covering). Or she may end up being colder and harder, in which case the rift will never be mended. So be it. I think I told somebody that I plan to distance myself from the family. Not that I would never speak to them again, but just keep my distance until I've gone thru sufficient griefwork and my new life is more solid. I will have carved out and marked my spiritual/philosophical territory and have ample munitions with which to defend it. I do not know what to make of Maylissa's husband's statement that his life wouldn't be overturned if she were to die before him. I am not now, nor ever have been, married (still lookin' for ***her***) so I still have this sweet, gauzy image of the whole institution (or how I relate to it, as there have been plenty of divorces among my family and friends), but I'd like to think that the loss of my Other would be like a nova going off in my solar system. We'll see, maybe someday. Perhaps M's hubby does have a rather scary amount of the acceptance of death, or maybe it was just a clumsy way of him telling her that she shouldn't worry about how he'd handle it. I dunno. Maybe some people are just irrational about these things. I mean, they always say that Death and Taxes are unavoidable. Well, some people avoid Taxes, but they risk only temporal punishment for doing so. The Great Equalizer, Death, just makes a alot of us wiggy. Upon rereading my first post, I guess there's no way to reconcile two disparate styles of grieving, when the two people are in close quarters. The emotional sensitivity of the issue, combined with an inherent need to take care of oneself, leads to combustability. I just don't like that.

One thing I forgot to mention, was that some time after my Mom's death last November, I was going thru a bag of her toiletries that was overlooked in the general discarding of her stuff,and I found a hair curler of hers with some tufts of her hair. I tenderly, gingerly took it and sealed it in a ziplock baggie. Its a treasured "First-Class Relic" that makes up for a lot. It brings me some comfort often.

I have a question. In all the grief counseling and in all the griefwork reading that I've done, one common theme is that we are all supposed to grieve in our own way. But what happens when two styles of grieving are in conflict? Just to illustrate: my Mom died in November. My sister is the executor of the estate. After Mom's death she swooped into the house and took up shop and promptly assumed control. (I had lived with Ma for the past 10 years. She died at 89, and I was her caregiver for most of those 10 years.) My darling sister's style of grieving was to do whatever she could to take her mind off of things, which meant that within hours of Ma's death my sister was going thru desk drawers and cabinets and commenced to sort and toss things out. Before Ma's funeral and burial 2 day later there were at least a dozen or so big, huge garbage bags of things tossed out. I am a whole lot more sensitive and would have appreciated to have at least waited until Mom was buried before sorting and tossing. I would have liked to have waited a week. Just to absorb the loss, start mourning and figuring out all this grieving stuff. I never got the chance. I feel that something was stolen from me, no opportunity to just sit and reflect and take in the loss in familiar surroundings. The place was practically torn apart. One week later there was a dumpster in the drivway to finish off whatever else was left to discard. So, back to the question: How do you reconcile two very different styles of grieving? My way excludes my sister's way, and her way definitly prevented mine. (I ended up going for long walks just to get out of there. This practice started a resentment from my sister and brother-in-law in that I never helped them in the sorting and tossing. I wasn't helpful and they're angry/disappointed with me. (tuff) This has evolved into a rift and we're not speaking. (Yippee) I do not apologize for anything for I've done what I needed to do and I actually sleep rather well, thanks! (Contrary to most reports on the bereaved, I've not suffered from insomnia. I do go to bed a few hours before I normally, so if anything I'm sleeping more). Anyway, that's that. There seems to be a contradiction that I've not seen addressed, that being how can two people freely grieve in close quarters when their grieving style basically cancel each other out, like matter and anti-matter.

Hello. I can only reiterate what's been said, in that you do have a right to grieve in your own way, and in your own time. "Time takes time" and the wound suffered by the loss of your Mom and Dad, particularly since your were close, will take its time. Don't look at a calendar and feel that you should be over it by now. And like some of the other posters said, age is irrelevant when you lose both parents, for we become "adult orphans". I just turned 43, and my Mom (a little shy of 90) died last November, so the loss is still raw. Dad died 10 years ago, but I didn't feel his loss that much as we were distant (emotionally and geographically). Interestingly, I am now starting to incorporate losing him into the griefwork I am doing to cope with Mom's death. So there's no established time for when you are "suppoosed to do" griefwork. And that is something that has helped me, "griefwork", which you are starting to do. You're in the right place and talking to people who understand, in a way, what you're going thru. Not exactly, as each grieves differently because each loss is different and we are different, but we're all treading the same sorrowful path. It's been suggested that you try grief counseling. That has worked wonders for me, not to mention that at some places, like a hospice or some other bereavement center, it may be free. It may also benefit your daughter, since she has survival issues beyond her grandparents' deaths. Another suggestion is to try reading. There are a number of great books available at most bookstores on grieving, from a host of perspectives. That may help when you're alone. And keep coming back here!!

Hey. It's a thought that I've had, that every trial is meant to better prepare me for even more 'kaka' down the road. As a Christian, it's actually a comfort. Sorta. And that despription of Ma's home missed out on the 'killer' backyard. A great backyard for kids and gardeners, it ain't flat like most. The street runs along some high ground and therefore all the backyards slope downward. Dad, wayback in the 1950's, built cinderblock retaining walls, and Mom and Dad gardened the resulting terraces. The retaining walls admittedly could use a bit of help in their 'retaining' function nowadays, but that was one thing I wasn't able to get to. (Fatigue these past few years from alcohol abuse. I have been getting more endurance each year, and this summer was the time I was going to make some headway on repair. Alas...) Tall Lebanese cedars line the property boundaries, shrubbery and stuff here and there. A pretty backyard. A tad neglected due to my addiction, but each passing year I had been able to better tend to the gardening part. Regarding the proceeds from the sales, I get 25%, after just debts are paid, etc. I'll decide what to do depending on what the amount is. Either invest for the future, (seriously lacking in that regard, but then financial security is an illusion) or move. The latter will depend on how well I can cope with living around here and not be at that house. I'm not talking about to another state, just maybe a farther part of this county, or the next one over. There has been a troubling rise in the level of resentment over my not living there. I'll get over it, as bad emotions tend to fade away (if they don't, I'll end up drinking) But if I am continually troubled, then I may do a 'geographic'. Another state may be a possibility, depends on how I feel. Yep, I saw my counselor on my b-day. Intended that, plus I also knew the estate sale might be just before it (just a guess, actually). I also went to Confessions just before. Those Franciscans have a chapel in a Mall near here, and Confessions are held daily. Helps clean out my pipes. I bought ice cream, not cake. Chocolate. For some reason I have had this intense craving for chocolate ice cream these past few weeks. It can't be for sweets, as I'd be going after candy, too. Its just chocolate ice cream. Mom was a chocoholic, but it can't be that, she preferred Hershey's Kisses (and vanilla, or Neapolitan ice cream to chocolate. But she was never one to turn away a lonely bowl of chocolate ice cream, either). I dunno. Oh, furbabies. I had one. A cat. American(ski) shorthair browish tabby. Tony. He got me when we were in California. His prior human moved to San Diego and couldn't take "Killer" (his previous name) along. So the fat furball looked me over and decided I was a good thing, and moved in. He was about 5-8 years old when he adopted me, lived another 9 years. (Died the Monday after Easter 2003)I was going to plant a tree over his grave to replace the broken sewerpipe end that was his marker, but alas... Unfortunately, I screwed up the registration process and "Paul S" is my real name. Well, the surname has a few more letters in it than just "S". I had wanted "postscript" which is the username on the email addy I use for griefwork and Catholic-y sites, but I fumfuh'd it. Oh, well. My attendance on this board may be questionable the next few days. I know, I've said that before and still managed to show up... Until whenever... toodles.

I found out this AM that Mom's house is up for sale. New listing. "Character and charm." I wanna slap someone. Anyhow, good thing I had a grief counseling session yesterday. Went over Mom's recent not-achieved 90th b-day, my uncelebrated 43rd b-day yesterday, and the estate sale. (preferrably uncelebrated. It's just a day.) I also mentioned you, tho not by name or website. He said it's good I have somebody to talk to who "Gets it." Sometimes I just wish I can dive into a bottle of vodka. And sometimes I just wonder where did my ancestors get the idea to ferment potatoes of all things. What were they trying to get over???? Y'all said... "... yet it's been too difficult so far to stop the process. So many triggers that set it off so quickly inside." Boy, do I know how THAT is. Sometimes things have to run their course. "This, too, shall pass" doesn't mean that it'll pass right away. Things happen when they do. What, exactly, just is a furbaby??????? A dreary day. Must do laundry and go over to Church and work there.

I did not have a happy weekend. The estate sale was well-attended, which is fine from an intellectual point of view, after all, I get 25% of the take, after just debts, etc. I even received a few phone calls from people inquiring about it. (Although I've moved I got the phone transferred into my name and then to my new place.) I didn't return any calls. Hey, if you want to know about the lathes, get off your keester and go over and ask. One person asked: "Is this the place with the Estate sale?" I said "No." Which is not a lie, but the truth as my apartment was NOT the site of the sale. I also was on my own during my shift at the Franciscan place. A couple volunteers didn't show up, they had a 18 girl show up to shadow me around (it's like a training thing for her) and I discovered that 18 years old girls are useless to help when there are other 18 year old girls around. Casting aspersions, I know, with a broad paintbrush, there are countless kidlings performing valuable service to the community, but it was a bit early in my volunteer career there to be harried with doing evrything. Got my mind off the estate sale, tho. And I did goodly. You said: (this is a copy-and-paste, I can't get the quite thing to work): "Nowadays, it runs through my head unceasingly that had we only known what was to come....I would have played things SO differently." and also...: "I'm constantly fighting with myself over doing the principled thing, or the spiritually-bigger thing. I just don't know...." I know from personal experience the amount of time that can be wasted dwelling excessively on the past, the "shoulda, coulda, woulda's" Granted, it took me a zillion AA meetings to finally stop reliving it, but with time I managed to evict the evil people and events from "renting space in my head." They weren't paying rent, anyway. It ain't easy, but too much of the present time is missed by dwelling on the past. "Let not my thoughts disturb my peace of mind." "Let it go." "The person I wished I was wastes the person I am today." Easier said than done, but by letting it constantly eat at you only gives your Dad and brother victories over you that they don't even have to do anything about to achieve. Don't give them the satisfaction. Can't offer advice on the lawyer. That's a you-and-your-hubby issue. Maybe it's too late to fight? If he's a lousy businessman as you said, what may be left to get? I dunno. To me, going after the spiritually-bigger thing usually takes care of the principled-thing. Changes your perspective, gains some insight on resolutions, or just helps you get over it. Just my 2 kopeck's worth. (Kopeck? Where'd that come from, I ain't Russian! )

Hi, Maylissa. Or, rather, HIYA!! I know I said I wouldn't be here till Monday, but on my way to the Church I felt pulled to see what was up at Mom's house. (I left for work just b4 the Estate sale was to begin. That is pushing "leaning into the pain" concept of griefwork a bit much. There are cars and SUV's and pickups lined up and down the street. Got me all melancholy so I came here to attend to this board and a recovery discussion forum that helps. You're wierding me out here. I actually got my juice glass from babyhood. Sis set it aside for me, along with other things from wayback (my baptismal outfit, and some other Catholic-y things I'm not sure what they are.) She's not totally evil, just warped. She's also into bells, and took some antique little bells that were laying about (again, I knew she would as it was an interest of hers, so no problem.) but she left behind a (drum roll, pleeeeze) COWBELL. That's somewhere in my new pad. Photos I got plenty, she was cool about those, including some from her oldest daughter's wedding that she thought should be tossed (kid is divorced now), but I wanted cuz all the family are in 'em. got them back. Hmm... I also managed to take most (maybe all) of the annniversary stuff of my parent's (25th and 50th). Not that I'd ever use it, they're going into storage along with mugs I bought Mom and Dad over the years with nice sentimental sayings. This is a wierd post. I understand that part about you not needing to buy certain things cuz your Mom said hers would be yours. Mom said that to me, which is why I took certain small things like end tables and doo-dads my sis accused me of stealing. (It all had to go thru her approval process as SHE is the Executioner (my intended major Freudian) of the estate). I naturally assumed that since Mom gave 'em to me, they were mine. In addition, I was the only one to have used this small table or that plant stand these past 10 years. All this stuff (and its not like they are major antique pieces) helps ease my transition to whatever life I am developing. I guess it never ocurred to Mom that she should've kept a record of such transactions. Some people I know in their 60's and 70's tell their kids to scribble their names on things they want. Dad long ago said that upon his death all his tools would be mine. Not that I'd have much use for a lathe or a table saw in a small 1BR apt., but at least some of the guys in the family took 'em. Which is fine as they'd be of better use with them. You mean people bought your family photos and engraved items???? By the Great Googly Moogly, that's taking investing into antiques into the realm of the mercenary. Here's an incentive to quit smoking: I notice you're like a major contributor to this forum. Myself and probably a bunch of others here would NOT want to use this forum to grieve over losing you. Kindly cease that fruitless activity of smoking and stick around a few more decades. I'm way late for work. Matters not, I choose my own hours, the priest only care about results. When I work is my responsibility. See you Monday around here. PS: the hyperlink worked, I'm saving that article. thanks!

Hiya, Maylissa! The thing about the paper trail I may reconsider. I'll ponder what you said, plus I had been thinking the other day that if I were to respond in writing to anything, there'll be an appropriate time for it. It'll make itself known and obvious. And most likely after my emotions calm down. I've learned to never say anything (well almost never) when I'm emotional. "Time takes time!" (That's an AA slogan. We've got a lot of 'em. ) Regarding my Mom's estate sale, there nothing overly valuable remaining. Nor is it really unfair. I just associate it with the whole rigamarole of the rapid discarding of things my sister did in November, so quickly after Mom died. My sister took the fine silverware. (that was OK. What am I, a bachelor, gonna need with that? Let my future wife-unmet as yet-pick something out for her parents to buy ) I think she took the china, as well. That's fine, again, the bachelor thang. It's a lot of the little stuff, from everyday life like small glass bowls she used to keep odds and ends and spare change and whatnot in. Candle holders, and other small stuff. The big things, such as a sofabed and dining room set and china closet/buffet table, I kinda would have liked, but I have no where to put them. Her recliner I have emotions about, but you gotta let go. However, its interesting that I've had fantasies similar to yours re: guilt tripping buyers at auctions and getting things back cheaper, but mine involve standing in the background of the estate sale and making extremely sentimental and nostalgic comments about my Mom and her things, in a sick-and-twisted hope of sabotaging the sale. No one would buy anything and I'd offer the ladies running it to take the stuff off their hands for free, saving my darling sister the expense of renting a dumpster. They'd appreciate my generosity and kindness and help me load my car. Hmmmm... I feel just a little bit violated, but more like my Mom may be humiliated at the mundaneness of the stuff offered for sale. Nothing much impressive. The dining room set is old and scuffed, nothing remarkably stunning about anything else. BUT IT WAS MY MOM'S. Oh, that book by Ericsson ("Companion...") I think should be read by married couples BEFORE their spouse dies. I'm not talking about that if one spouse has a terminal illness, I mean no matter how long one's been married and regardless of the health of either. Although the target was losing a spouse, I got A LOT of good from it. I think people do run a genetic risk for addiction, but it may manifest in different forms. Yours may just be tobacco. You really should quit. You ever try? The patch or that gum stuff? Just wondering. Well, until later. I may not be around till Monday, I'll be working in the Church Friday and Saturday (duty calls, but also its to hide out from the sale-keep my mind off it) Library closed on Sunday, besides, I volunteer at a Franciscan place that is like a hospice. People who are terminally ill and a prognosis of 6 months or less to live go there to die. Just volunteer work every Sunday afternoon to help me through, and it works. Being close to death, but in a detached sort of way, as these people aren't loved ones of mine, helps me with Mom's death. Also helps me get outside myself. "A mind is a bad neighborhood when you find yourself in it alone." Yep, another AA bonmot. Toodles.

Hi Maylissa!! This alkie's keester is planted firmly in the chair and I enjoyed reading your reply. I've seen the "Grief Recovery Handbook", but for the time being decided not to buy it. I'm not up to something as proactive as scribbling in a workbook. I've just read "Companion Through the Darkness" by Stephanie Ericsson. A great book, although the focus is more on losing a spouse. Nevertheless, it was a tremendous help to me. Especially in a chapter near the end entitled "The Saurian Tale". It's about dealing with evil. Mostly evil people, but also the evil that people do. It was what helped me to arrive at the decision to not respond to any emails and whatever other nonsense directed at me. Even if I employ Truth, can point out Facts backing me up and clearly identifying where they're wrong. It would serve no purpose except to boost my ego, and there are spiritually safer ways of doing that. Besides, after this is all over my sister will not have Mom or the Estate handling to keep her mind off things. That is when (I think) the full force of Mom's death may hit and her hardened heart may not be equipped to cope. She will either return to brutalizing others in her life, (not me, for I'll be outta hers) or drink. She's handled alcohol in the past, but avoided developing a problem either because of the need to keep her head about her because of Mom (and before, Mom and Dad) or the memory of her father-in-law dying of alcohol. Maybe my alcoholism kept her away from it. I dunno, but that was the 'tragedies' I referred to in the last post. Any response fom me may push her towards it. I can write effectively, and when I put my mind to it, can really cut open wounds. I've learned from some people the art of guilt tripping people, although I've never used it. A weapon held in reserve, but thanks to AA and my Catholicism, will remain holstered. I also don't want to leave a paper trial that she and others can point to. "See?! Look at what he said to me!!!" The book I read befor the Ericsson was :"A Time to Grieve : Meditations for Healing After the Death of a Loved One" by Carol Staudacher. Great book, needn't be read from fron-to-back, just flip thru it and if any of the headings seem to trigger someting, read that topic. Not sure what is next, either "Blessed Are Those Who Mourn: Comforting Catholics in Their Time of Grief" by Glenn M. Spencer, "Good Grief: A Constructive Approach to the Problem of Loss" by Granger E. Westberg, or "Grieving the Death of a Mother" by Harold Ivan Smith. From what I gather, the Westberg is a classic. My Mom's estate sale is this Friday thru Sunday. I had hoped to be out of town, but can't afford it. Intellectually I can grasp the sale, but emotionally I regard any who go to be vultures. I dread anyone coming up to me in the future and say "Oh, Paul! I bought...at your Mom's sale!!!" It'll be all I can do to not say "I hope the thing breaks!!!" Not good, but it's how I feel. Otherwise things are getting better. I have a part-time job. Custodian at my Catholic parish. It's about all I can intellectually or psychologically deal with right now. I am also sending out resumes. I also have an apartment. One of the reasons I disappeared for a month was the need to find one. I was intimidated into giving 30 days notice. I was out in 20. Again, my priest came through. A godsend, he. I owe him a huge, happy debt of gratitude. Anyway, this guy in the parish rents out places he owns and is very generous. My finances don't matter. Small, 1 BR, but mine! He knew my parents through the Church, Knights of Columbus and the Parish school. He knows I come from good stock, and wants to help. Now if I can only finish unpacking and sorting. About 90% done, but its the last 10% that makes the place look like a mess. "Aceptance and "time takes time" help with this, not to mention that I'm a recovering slob in addition being a recovering drunk. It's just like old times!! There's this old guy in the back who keeps feeding me. One week he gave me a weeks worth of ziti. Last week was several days worth of venison. That's still in the freezer. The other day was a gallon of cranberry juice. He said it doesn't mix well with his vodka. I could've told him that! I told him I don't drink, but not why. No need to. Well, that's it for now, I suppose. Take care!

One of the best ways to honor the dead is by tending the loved one's gravesite. This goes beyond just visiting when you can, or on anniversaries. This is a giving of yourself, spending time on someone when there is no obvious immediate benefit. In other words, your doing something for someone when there's no way for certain you can be helped by them. After all, they're dead. (As a Catholic, I do believe in Purgatory, and that prayers for the Dead are of immense practical value. And that the Holy Souls in Purgatory can intercede for you most powerfully with God. But that is an internal, spiritual matter with no observable connection directly with one's life.) Tending someone's gravesite is a public witness of your devotion to, and love for, the deceased. It is a testimony that they are still a part of your life in a tangible way. You are doing something loving, and you don't care what others think.

Hi all. Sorry for taking a month to reply, I just don't want anyone to think I'm ungrateful and that I take what I need and then leave. The holidays got in the way and I don't have a computer in the place I live. My late Mom's birthday I consider a part of the holidays (it was Jan 20th-she would've been 90). There has been a rift splitting open in my family. Centering on me and my sister, I am being targeted with blame (co-equal with my sis), and that I understand. In any rift, it takes two to pull it apart. Some/most of the accusations are unfair and unwarranted. I have decided that responding to the criticism would be pointless. It was suggested that dialogue with my sister may be healing, or that I explain about my alcoholism (at least the recovery angle) and so forth. That is not possible at the moment. Emotions are too raw and sensitive and positions have hardened. They wouldn't understand, anyway. I've tried a little. Some family are trying to steer a narrow course between my sis and I, and God bless 'em for trying but that just annoys me. I have loads of justifiable anger and their conciliatory nature is rubbing me the wrong way. It will help in the long run keep the rift from swallowing other people, but for my sister and I, no reconciliation is possible for a long while. She is just too cold and insensitive and would not see my perspective. That is another reaon why I won't defend myself. There is little chance of my being understood. My Catholicism and AA recovery program has denied a 'common frame of reference', and that is fine with me. There need be no obligation to maintain everlasting contact with family. People drift apart for a variety of reasons, and a divergence of lifestream just happens. It's my life and I gotta live it. This is unfortunate, but it may be a blessing in disuise. I now feel more liberated than before. I no longer think of "What would Mom and Dad think, and also, what would the rest of the family think?" That has been so inhibiting in the past, regardless of geographic distance or age difference. I've always considered the family's opinions in any life-decision. Well, Dad died in 1995, Mom died last November, and now the family and I are marking our separate territories. So be it. It's real sad it's taken over 40 years (I'll be 43 next Tuesday, yippee), but since we may all live to our 90's or beyond, so what? Things happen when they do. Discovering and living new opportunities is one common theme I've discovered in my grief counseling sessions and my grief-work reading. I've found new, hidden strengths and values and desires and life is better. In time a new paradigm will form and the family may come together. But on an equal, respectful, understanding. There may be more tragedies (I can't be the only alcoholic in the family, there's got to be others-someday. That isn't wishful thinking, either.) and I hope I can respond with any help I can. Oh, well. I've rambled on long enough. Just want to say thanks to Maylissa and others for being around. I'll try to hang out here more often.

The family isn't taking sides, per se. They understand my sister differently from me, and this perspective has a 'chasm of undertanding' that may be hard to cross. They seek to see both sides of the situation, which is commendable, but due to certain factors, i.e. I am an alcoholic who has to maintain his 3.5 years of sobriety at all costs, or I'm useless, and they are not alkies, I am job-searching and apartment-hunting through all this, and they are secure in their homes and jobs. They don't understand certain things about me that were deeply affected by my alcoholism. They can intellectualize it, but the emotional grasp is not there. It's as if they fall back onto a 'default' setting of seeing my life as if I were a problematic loser, not as a struggling soul seeking to cope with things they take for granted. I have guilt over the opinions of my family, like I mentioned in my previous posting. Maybe they're right and I'm wrong. And this means I've lied and/or mislead people on this board, on recovery boards and in AA meetings. But then I just think about the 'chasm of understanding' theory up above and feel that that is maybe the way things will shape out in the months and years to come. My 'family' will be more like friends I am meeting through Church, grief support groups and AA meetings face-to-face and online. Kind of sad. Or is it? Is it just this naive idealism I have that families are supposed to be closer to you than anyone else? I think Maylissa said that blood is definitley NOT thicker than water. Oh, well. ***sigh***

Starkiss: I understand what you are going through. My Mom died just over a month ago and am dealing with family situations that don't make it any easier. (If you're interested, goto "Death of Parent" Board and see topic "Mom died/family fracturing). I miss my Mom's presence. I still feel it sometimes, but its hard through all the negative emotional junk I have to cope with. I want to tell her something about something that's going on but realize that I can't. From everything that I've been reading about grief/bereavement, what you are feeling is normal. Not that it makes it any easier, but at least you're not going crazy. Grief counseling is helping me immensely. I'm staring hospice later this week to see what they can offer. Try it if you can.

Thanks Dester. Only one hour? I am not sure I would have survived that. I think I might have gotten unhinged. My brothers, whom I emailed largely the info in my post, were not as supportive as I had hoped. One wasn't surprised and said I shouldn't be also. Another tried to steer a neutral course and see things her way, in addition to mine. Something about she's under a lot of pressure being the executor. I know that's a pressure-situation, but when she was offered the task years ago by Mom, she could have either refused or asked that it be shared. I'm the one looking for work, a place to live and seeing my bank account dwindle. Actually, I may have a place to live soon, but not permanent. An AA friend offered me a place in his apt, (couch and part of living room.) He was vouched for by a non-AA friend so I know he's not a psychopath. It seems like the only support I'm getting is from the grief counselors, AA, my priest and some friends. The few family supporters are either 'outcast' so to speak, or have been tortured by my sister. I hate the guilt that I may be wrong and have missed something. I dunno. It just seems that what she is doing is too cold, efficient and businesslike. Some understanding souls have said that may be her personality, but also that that's no excuse. Just that i should accept it, and adjust my reaction to her to get through it. I am going to a hospice for counseling and whatever else they offer this Friday. I'm looking forward to it, especially after what you've said. On the positive side, at least in a month I wouldn't have to put up with her much more, except when needed for probate issues.

Maylissa and Dester: Thanks for your responses, I don't feel as alone. I've been going to some grief counseling, and it has helped to keep my head together, along with AA meetings. (I don't remember if I said in my first post that I am a recovering alcoholic, 3 1/2 years sober.) More couseling this week, including a hospice session. My first support group meeting is tomorrow night, looking forward to it. (The website of where I'm going for counseling has a link to this place, that's how I found it.) Things may be worse for a while. Although in retrospect what has just happened an hour ago should have been expected. Perhaps I was too hopeful. My sister the executor has basically given me 30 days to get out. My friends have been telling me to fight this if it ever happened, but I didn't put up any fight. Any attempt would have been futile, based on her body language and that look in her eyes. It would have made this week even more untenable than it is. She and her husband are here this week to continue sorting. She is being very hard and legalistic concerning her role as executor. She may review what items (little plant stands and end tables I assumed no one would care about) I've taken to see if it meets with her approval. I am tired and at the end of my rope. I know I'll get through this, my religious faith is deep enough, but there is only so much one can take. I need a miracle, or just strength. Plus a need to get off my keester and get busy.

My Mom died November 7th, 2005. She was 89. I had been living with her for the past 10 years, and although I described myself as her caregiver, she was not that much an invalid as the caregiver term implied. She could take care of herself, and so on. I was just around to help out and be there so she won't be lonely. Except for the past year, when it had been necessary for someone to be around 24/7. That was me. She increasingly depended on me for the simplest tasks, and I was there, daily. She went to the hospital Oct 19th, and was in ICU for a week for a ruptured bowel. Later she was transferred to a private room where she slowly faded. Although I knew she would never come home, I kept hoping that a miracle would occur, but obviously none did. I perhaps colored my observations to family with this hope, but I and others knew the real deal. Anyway, life has been very hard since. My sister is the executor of the estate, which is OK. However her style of grieving has been markedly different from mine. She needs to keep busy to keep her mind off things. This meant that just a few hours after Mom died, my sister was rummaging thru desk drawers and cabinets sorting and tossing things out. My Mom wasn't even buried yet and there were a dozen or so garbage bags on the backporch and yard awaiting disposal. I understand that everyone grieves in their own way, but that way should not run roughshod over other people's. If she needed to keep busy, she could have shown Mom's memory due respect, and be sensitive to others, and gone home and reorganized her own house. I feel as though something has been stolen from me, which is the time from my Mom's death to the funeral and burial, when I could have mourned and 'switched gears', so to speak. Stresses have taken their strain over the aftermath. My sister and brother-in-law rented a dumpster to accommodate their desire to toss out 59 years of acummulated stuff of my parents. (My Dad died in 1995.) Mostly, 99% of the items are stuff deservedly dumpster material, but the timing and speed as to which things are disposed of, along with a certain lack of consideration as to the sensitivity of this entire matter, has led to problems. I did not assist them much in the sorting and tossing. I just couldn't. This was too soon. I went for long walks and visits with friends just to get away. Everyone tells me I did the right thing, that I have to take care of myself. I also spent much time at the cemetary, perhaps 1-3 visits per day for a few weeks. (Not so much anymore.) My sister and I do not communicate. She and others are due in over this weekend to haul away a lot of my parent's furniture. This will be painful. An even emptier house. Another dumpster is due next week, I think to finish off the place. This place has ceased to be a home when my Mom died, it's just an empty shell now. I look around at the empty walls where pictures and paitings used to be, and there's nothing on them now. I see boxes of my stuff perched everywhere, blocking paths, awaiting transfer to storage. It's a morgue of sorts. I have to move. The estate (my sister) wants to sell the house ASAP over her paranoid fear of creditors' demands (the only creditors are the estate's attorney and the hospital. Nothing else. The proceeds are to be distributed equally amongst myself and three siblings, after just debts. There was insurance to pay most medical costs). I am not employed, as I was conveniently laid off just before a deterioration of my Mom's health needed me to be home full time. So, during the holiday season, I have to figure out how to grieve over Mom's death (I am seeing grief counsellors), mourn her passing, deal with where to live and find a job. All at once. The topic's title is family fracturing. My sis and I aren't talking. She and her eldest daughter aren't speaking. Her two daughters aren't talking. My brothers' do not want to get involved, they are just hoping, I think, that this all blows over with little lasting damage. Pigs will fly first. This is all terribly painful. Everyone tells me I'm doing everything that I'm supposed to be doing, but I still feel bad. In part its because Mom has died, mostly its due to my sister's attitude. I am more focused on her existence than my Mom's death. Healing is hard. When I carve out time to grieve which means going to my grief counsellor's, or reading material on grieving, I feel guilty that I'm not responsive to my sister's agenda. I am 42, nearly 43, and I feel like a child. I am struggling to shift my self-image to that of the adult that I am, with my own needs and agendas and responsibilities, but it's like kayaking upstream. My sister has a strong, self-willed personality that has much darkness to it. When I moved home 10 years ago to look after Mom she expressed fears that I would let Mom wastevaway and die. (Mom was laid up for a few months with an injury. My sis said that I wouldn't be getting Mom her meals or her meds, and that I would just let her die. WELL IT TOOK 10 YEARS!!!!! Sorry, just had to let a bit of morbid humor creep in.) Anyway, this is not about probate and things and who's getting what. Little trouble there. It's just attitudes, selfishness, and security issues. I miss my Mom, and I wish I was on the other side of this whole thing. (i.e. next year, probate over, house sold, I'm working and living somewhere else.) I know I'll endure, it's just that enduring this whole matter is debilitating.