Maylissa

Okay, Marty...I'll try it right now.Hope this worked, and YAHOO if it did! And thanks!

Hiya back, Paul, This uncanniness goes even further....my father's name is Paul, for one. And about bells....oh, yes, that's even more uncanny that you have one, too! (Doo-doo-DOO-doo...doo-doo-DOO-doo) I also had returned to me a crystal dinner-bell that my Mom had bought for herself ( from the family friend, who'd bought it himself during the estate sale )....so some people do give things back once they know what really happened. 'Course, that's been another one of my daydreams - had I still been living at home, showing up at the sale ( which, BTW, I wasn't told about and happened to find out about serendipitously ~~ pretty sure my Mom's spirit must have had a hand in that ), bursting in and screaming in horror at my father, "What are you DOING?!?!?! Those are all MOTHER'S things!! You're not supposed to SELL them!!!", then running around quickly gathering up whatever I could, even snatching things from people's hands, and just generally creating total pandemonium! Then, once I'd found out that my BROTHER was ( at that point ) the one behind this, screaming at his helpers to "get the **** OUT! And go tell my crooked brother that he now has ME to deal with as WELL!" Aahhhh, dream-life...so much more satisfying than reality. I'm pretty sure the house would have emptied out P.D.Q. and I could have just loaded up whatever was left by then. Yes, we assume, once given to us, things are ours. But in the real world, it's not always so. I remember my dead brother telling me of yet another upset with our father during this time, where he wouldn't even allow him to take my brother's OWN speaker, which he'd just left at our parents' house years ago. And again, since we were walking on eggshells with our father at the time ( too much, as usual, depended on not riling him up ), he didn't think it wise to fight him for it. Nowadays, it runs through my head unceasingly that had we only known what was to come....I would have played things SO differently. I still have yet to decide whether to hire a lawyer to contest the illegal Will my brother had our father make out, once the time comes. On one hand, I don't want to have to have anything to do with him anymore, but on the other hand, I don't want him to get away with theft and fraud. I'd love to be the one to teach him a different lesson than the one our father taught him - how to be crooked and WIN. I want to be the one who upholds my Mother's honour, as well as mine. But I just don't know if it's worth all the extra stress it will surely cause me. I'm constantly fighting with myself over doing the principled thing, or the spiritually-bigger thing. I just don't know....and I really hate the idea of possibly wasting one more dime of OUR money on these two horrid individuals, should there not be anything much left to fight over anyway, because that would mean in the end, they'd have won. How my brother sleeps nights is beyond me. Our Mother had still been going over to clean up after him, while she was in her 80's and he in his 50's....all the way to scrubbing carpets and cleaning his dirty underwear because he's had ( at a minimum ) colitis for years, with bleeding as well. While he didn't want our Mom there, it's not like he actively stopped her, either. He'd try and get his usually-lone employee to play maid for him as well - some would comply, others barely so. They'd all end up either fired or quitting suddenly. I also just talked to the Chief Medical Examiner's office where my father lives, and it looks like, no matter WHAT I want to do, I'll have to talk to a lawyer first. I'd wanted an autopsy done on our father after he dies, to see if he has Alzheimer's or just some other type of dementia, but apparently, permission to have one done must come from the....wait for it....Executioner! ( gawd, did I LAUGH over that one!! )...if there's a Will, and that, of course, would be...my BROTHER, AGAIN!! Oh, I'm SO frustrated!! You do realize, that should I die, no one on these boards would know, as I'd just suddenly not be posting.... But shucks and aaaawwwwwww...thanks for caring what happens to me. And actually, I've been thinking that, after I get rid of an affliction that's been plaguing me for a few months now, my homeopath and I can work on getting me smoke-free next, so keep your fingers crossed. And with that, I'll have to go, as now I have to review the copious notes I'd started for a lawyer's perusal. Hope your wknd. goes well enough for you, Paul. As always, thanks for the chats.

Paul, Okay, this is getting very uncanny...you use a whole bunch of words that I thought only I used! "hiya" and "rigamarole"...holy crow, are we somehow related?! I know you won't be reading this for a few days, but I'm posting it now anyway. Firstly, it took me about 3 weeks to write that letter and get it 'just so', so yes, timing and calm deliberation are beneficial. It warms the cockles of my heart to hear you say, as a male child, that you would have had no use for some of the more 'girlie' things of your mother's. My dead brother actually wanted the older set of china, which also pleased me, because he did have an appreciation for certain fine things and would have liked to see it in use. And of course, the two of us wouldn't have been fighting over who got which set! My remaining brother, on the other hand, is also a bachelor, but wanted to simply sell whatever he could in order to pocket the funds to try and save his ever-failing business. He'd told me that he was going to try and sell some things on e-Bay. He had at least one sentimental item - a 25th Anniversary cup and saucer of our parents', something he would naturally never use himself, but he wouldn't send it to me, either. So because I'm so 'used to' this kind of heartless craziness, it just does me good to hear a son thinking rationally and, well, normally. I, too, wanted a few silly, little things...like my juice glass from when I was young ( saw it there, and should have pocketed it )...sentimental stuff. All I managed to sneak into my bags of clothing were my Mom's cowbell from the farm where she was born and her Swedish rolling pin, which was irreplaceable. Many other little things were just missing from their usual spots, or I would have had a few more items to cherish. I did have opportunity to bag all the photographs, but stupidly left them, fearing the future wrath of my father, who kept asking about them ( not realizing at the time just how BAD his dementia already was & that he wouldn't notice anyway ), after which he burned or threw them out. For this, I'm as mad at myself as I am at him. I want to turn back the clock, even if just for that one day. I offered my father money for the china, but he wouldn't decide what a "fair price" would be to charge me before I had to leave. A "fair price"?!?! I figured I'd more than paid a huge price, over my whole life, for being held hostage by his horrible ways. There were also many valuables that should have gone to me, but only certain pieces I really wanted. Among them were things my Mom had always told me not to buy for myself, as I'd get hers. I never wanted any furniture, though in retrospect, I would have liked her dining room suite, as finding furniture that well-made these days is well beyond our budget. It was solid teak, sat 8 - 12, had anti-tarnish lining in the silverware drawers; all this, and they sold it for a measley $1300, when it was easily worth $9,000. It was a total travesty. I concur with your desciptor of "vultures", as someone was also snatching up things like Silver Anniversary trays engraved with my parents' names, the date, etc., and a wedding photo of them I'd had retouched and reframed for their 40th. I mean, who, in all good conscience, could bring themselves to buy such things?! There was also a scene my father made one day that made it all too clear that something was terribly amiss here, and I later heard of mutterings among the crowd, wondering why the daughter ( clearly in view in photos around the house ) hadn't taken all these treasures already. But they still bought them all eventually. It's been pretty hard for me to believe in the goodness of people's hearts, as a whole, after this fiasco. I even attended one estate sale myself, locally, to see if someone about my Mother's age would have any of the same, or similar, items for sale. No....because these are the things that are normally passed down to the children. Well, not in my family. My Mother would be rolling in her grave about this, if she had one. I sickens me...it just sickens me. So I LOVED your fantasy...I could stay in that one forever....that tells me all I need to know about where your heart lies, and I only wish that someone like you was my brother instead. And like you said, no matter the monetary worth of anything, it's the fact that it was our Mother's that matters. I've seen a few things in antique-type places that my Mom had ( the items that I didn't particularly want, despite their value ), but even to buy them, although identical, isn't the same. I would know they weren't the ones her hands touched. I tried to explain this concept in that letter to my brother, but though my counselor had said, "I don't think you realize how powerful your words here are...", it obviously didn't make any meaningful dent on my brother's heart...or whatever alien organ he's got in that cavity, masquerading as human tissue. On other subjects, yes, I did try quitting - twice. TWO different brands of the patch, the gum, changing my habits some....failed miserably. I made it a grand total of 3 lousy days. This was before my fur-boy died, and since then I've been so wrapped up in anxiety about his sister's health, then everything with my Mom, that I don't believe I'd stand a chance at success yet. I still hope to quit, but don't know when. Funny, too, that you mention a Franciscan 'hospice' ( another Twilight Zonish moment with you! ). My Mom had this very strange idea that her china ( the set I have ) had been made by some Franciscan monks somewhere in the U.S., as if monks would be making china. I have no idea where she got this wild idea, as the manufacturer is clearly written on the undersides. I think it's very courageous of you to volunteer with the dying, and so soon, too. Your karma's going to be in fine shape! I would be of NO help to those dear people; probably just use up all of their tissues! I'll be thinking of you over the wknd., hoping you'll get past this current hurdle okay....and then go and remind you about it when you find this post! Geez...I didn't think this through too well, did I? Sorry!! Well, you can have your turn next, and remind me of something I'd put on the back-burner, K? Stay in touch! PS - almost forgot - Marty T. has a link to an article she referred to on this site, which might resonate with you, as it did with me. [url=http://hovforum.ipbhost.com/index.php?show...1314entry1314 (can't figure out how to do this properly, so let me know if it doesn't work )

Dear Maureen, I'm so glad something we said helped you, in whatever way. You're right, I think, about the reviewing of many areas of our life after someone we love dies...and also about how the pain remains despite that soul-searching. In fact, I've found that in some areas, it worsens due to that soul-searching, which often raises other questions, concerns and regrets. I'd love to say that it's all worth that introspection in the end, but since I'm not there yet, I can only hope that it's so. I also wanted to make sure you knew about the Pet Loss forum here, just in case you'd still like to talk about Miss Pea. I'm so sorry that she's not with you anymore, either. I had 2 budgies (separately) when I was a child, and into my early teens, each of whom I loved deeply....so I just LOVE birds, especially their scents! I suffered great trauma from each of their deaths and it took me many years until I could entertain the notion of including any more creatures in my life. I eventually did, but not 'til I was 30. I chose cats, and when my Sabin died before his time at the age of 13 ( and he was black, so Friday the 13ths are special days to me ), I wanted to die, too. No other death has been as painful for me (so far) as his. I'm afraid his sister's may do me in for good. She's just turned 19. You mentioned Miss Pea's twin brother....is he still with you then? And is 12 years very old for cockatiels? (my first budgie was only 4 when she died, likely from an impacted egg - she was laying eggs despite never having been around another bird, which I understand can happen somehow; my second budgie was 8, but illness, not age, took him away) I know I'm way off the original topic here, but just wanted to take the opportunity to chat a bit about our other beloveds. And yes, I've imagined how terrible it would be if I was totally alone....then I get very afraid, as I will LIKELY be in that position at some point, since my husband and I have no children, he's got a huge family history of early heart attack on both sides and we still have NO good friends where we live. We also don't live in the same place as both of our families are/were - the only kids of the two families who ever moved away. I don't know WHAT I'd do!

Hi. Just wondering if anyone knows how to insert the font style selections anywhere in a posting? For the life of me, I can't seem to figure it out! ( and it's probably really simple, too )

Thanks, Shell and Maureen, for all your support and encouragement with this dilemma. It always helps to know someone is thinking of me, even if it's not family. Shell, One thing I'm now looking into is requesting an autopsy be done when my father dies, since that's the only certain way for them to determine if he has Alzheimer's or just some other form of dementia. I have to call the Chief Medical Examiner's office in their Province to get some answers, then try to convince the Public Trustee ( who is refusing to return my calls so far ) to pay for this out of whatever's left by then of my father's funds. Wish me luck, as it's going to be an uphill battle, I'm sure. I have decided to not continue contact with this aunt ( for the umpteenth time ), but might still call my cousin, just to ask her if she ever intends on sending me those pictures or not. Maureen, Funny....everyone who's known my family history has made this remark before, and frankly, I know they're right, but sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier to deal with all of them if I, too, had been rather 'crazy' myself!? The contrast in their thinking and mine, their behaviours and mine, was what, in itself, used to ( and still does ) drive ME the most crazy. It's always been like trying to communicate in a different language. The few times there would be something common we could relate to, no one seemed to be able to extrapolate it to me or my situation....always as if MY existence was merely an afterthought and not important at all in comparison to their's and their loved ones. In any case, it has been suggested to me that this aunt may even have something like schizophrenia ( this from a doctor friend ), so no wonder it's impossible. Yes, my family has always provided me more examples than I can count on how not to be! It's the sad story of my life. And while helpful in some ways, they're all negative ways, and I guess I'd just like to have some positive things for once. But it's become too clear that that will never happen, not from them. And I resent the fact that I, all alone, must write a newer, better chapter into this/my story...cuz I'm just so t..i..r..e..d. I want things to just...go...swimmingly for once in MY life, like I see and hear about in others' lives. Whenever I see those newspaper notices of "Thanks", to a whole whack of people, for all the many things and ways of support they received after a death......I want to rip the paper into shreds! You don't know how many times I wanted to write my own, reverse 'thank-you's' and publish it for all to see! It would have gone something like this: Heartfelt Thanks to all my remaining family and relatives for all the dishonour they displayed towards me, my family and my Mother upon her death. The lack of a Memorial Service for her allowed me to bury my memories and emotions along with her, and has helped me immensely in being able to carry forward in abundance, my history of unimportance, in new and bigger ways. Special thanks to my father for his help in allowing me to give up my family status as his and my Mother's only daughter, and for his clever and secret efforts aimed towards freeing me of the burden of sorting and choosing among Mom's personal effects, family treasures and other pieces of extreme value, lovingly preserved by Mom for the hands of strangers. Extra thanks to my last remaining brother for his consideration in not upsetting our Mother with any visits in her final days, and for relieving me of the necessity of any inheritance in the future. Our Mother would also be very grateful for the special closet provided for her, carrying on the tradition of no disturbing visits. His deftness with our parents' funds has proved to be a remarkable asset ( for him ) in this difficult time, and was much appreciated by our father and the Public Trustee's Office of the Province, providing them a means to develop a relationship based on their shared value of money. To all my old friends, neighbours and my community, you have given me the great opportunity to do for myself and not relinquish my loneliness in the face of adversity. The lack of meals brought by none allowed me my comfort/snack food, supporting the weight gain needed to eliminate my bothersome slimness. The lack of notes, cards and flowers was touching, with your concern over the neatness of our household so clearly felt. Your calls were all so very appreciated, reminding me to focus on others' concerns instead of my sorrow. For all those who thought better of calling, thank-you for giving me the quiet to feel the magnitude of all of the above. Thanks are also due to the staff and doctors at Deer Lodge for respecting the implied wishes of the rest of my family to provide my Mother complete solitude in her last hours and for not compromising the care of other patients by any research into my Mother's last communications on my behalf. Thank-you all for everything....I wouldn't be where I am today without you. [/font=Arial Narrow]

Hey, Paul! Okay....right off the top...... If you've got any more of those 'golden-oldies', feel free to jot them right down here! ( I DID like the "time takes time" one, even though I've not heard that before ) You've really peaked my interest with that one chapter out of the first book. Thanks for mentioning it - I'll have to try and get it now, as I don't recall seeing any subject matter like that in any other books on grief that I've read so far...and it's certainly applicable in my case. Yes, I've heard that "Good Grief" is a classic, though I've never read it. So many good books, not enough time to read them all...and I LOVE reading and always have. I wish these had all been around when I was young ( used to read psychology books in my teens ~ in hopes of figuring out my stupid family! ), when I had all that 'care-free' time. I often wonder when and if my brother will start coming apart at the seams, too, and what form it might take...but I wouldn't want to be there to see it, as he's a pretty scary guy and thankfully, I haven't had to be around people like him in many years. I've actually been rather amazed that none of us 3 kids ever seemed to develop problems with alcohol ( that I know about ), considering that it ran quite rampantly in our Mom's side, and my dad's side had a few 'mental' siblings. ( oh, we were so blessed with our genes! lol )But then, my addiction (of 'choice') is cigarettes, my (dead) brother smoked a pipe and could be violent and the remaining brother devoted his entire life to his business( workaholic ) and can be violent, so we each picked up some kind of addiction &/or dsyfunction from our parents. I remember monitoring my alcohol intake very carefully for a few months, after getting educated about it, and thankfully found that I seemed to be okay, which is good, because I have great fear of ending up like my Mom. I also remember my dead brother telling me this crazy theory he had about just "deciding" he was one of those people who would simply never get mouth cancer (from the pipe), after having read some studies about same...and I thought, "Okaaaayyyy...well, there's that classic family denial again. " So, no, he didn't get that...but he died of a stroke instead! And here I haven't been able to quit, myself, yet, despite 2 immediate family members dying from strokes. What I really picked up on was you not wanting to leave a paper trail which others could use against you. It's so sad that some of us are forced into considering such aspects when dealing with our families, isn't it? And yes, I've had to think the same way. In fact, I still hold tape recordings I felt I had to make when my father was threatening/blackmailing me years ago. I had to go to a lawyer to protect myself when I wanted to leave the family business. Strangely, on the flip side, I wanted a paper trail when I wrote my last brother a letter after both deaths, and my counselor even encouraged this, so that if he ever said I'd said whatever, I'd have written proof that that's NOT what I said! I also sent copies of this letter to 2 relatives and one family friend, as an added safeguard. I kept thinking, "How pathetic is this, that I feel I have to do this with one of my own brothers?!"...but I'm glad I did, as he later tried to tell at least one person ( that I know about ) that I was "complaining" about things in this letter, which wasn't true at all. Most of it dealt with my relationship with my Mom, the things he may have had yet from the estate sale that meant a great deal to me and most importantly, why I would have liked to have had them. I wrote out memories surrounding these items and the feelings I attached to those moments from the past...moments me and Mom had shared together, important rituals and traditions she'd started and I'd kept in my heart and in practise...stuff like that. It was vital to me to try and reestablish the fact that I was her daughter, AND a family member, and entitled to that status and information and other things that were going on. I offered again to help him with anything he needed done, but had to do that from where I live, as we couldn't afford for me to go back home yet again. ( he'd refused my earlier offer to come and physically help, when I COULD have gone ) But he chose to either view, or just CLAIM that was complaining. So that pretty much clinched it for me....he's as nuts as the rest of them and there will be no miraculous change of heart in him, I'm sure. It still floors me that, with all her bigger problems, my Mom still managed to touch and be touched by love ( from me ), yet this brother is as cold as ice. Saaayyyy...maybe I could commission you to write something guilt-inducing for my brother?! And yes, it's hard to live with unfair estate sales. After I got cheated out of everything, I debated about calling every auction house back home, to try to buy back ( at terribly inflated prices, I'm sure ) whatever items of my Mom's I could ( I knew there had been many rep's there, buying up all sorts of things, as my stupid father was practically giving valuable things away ), but we just couldn't afford the long distance charges for all that at the time. So I was lucky to track down and buy back her china set and had to leave it at that. This is still such a sore point with me that I don't see myself ever being able to get rid of the resentment and hate I have towards my father and brother about it. I used to have fantasies all the time about finding her pieces at an auction house and taking great pleasure in telling whoever I was talking to all about what they'd done, sobbing all through the tale, of course, until they gave the item back to me for less than what they would have normally priced it at. Oh, it's a really raaawww nerve, still. I can't even bear to think about what's going to ultimately happen to those treasured things....I feel violated, as if someone burglarized my childhood, adolescence and young adulthood...because they're all wrapped up in those pieces. It was MINE and my MOM'S life, not some stranger's! It really makes my stomach churn to think of someone else even touching those things...and will they take good care of them, as I would have? I doubt it, because the love didn't go with them. I'll tell you, Paul, if I met anyone who had your mom's things, I'd ask for it back, period! The intellect doesn't serve here, as it's the heart that's broken, not the head. I'm happy for you that you found both decent living arrangements ( including some catering! ) and work that suits you for now, as you say. Whatever works. Thank goodness you had someone to turn to for help there. Now if the Universe would just send you a professional organizer, eh? ( to teach you, not to do for you)....hey, at least you didn't say you were a dedicated slob, but a recovering one! Hope springs eternal! Later, Maylissa

FUNNYFACE, Well, whether you really feel like going or not, I say "Good for you!" for putting a bit of activity back in your life. It's probably best that it's only part-time for now. And if you're going to, it might as well be something that also makes you some money, too, if it's also something you like to do! You might find it quite beneficial, as I know when I had to make a few appts./wk. for awhile there, it gave me added energy...and a chance to get out of the house for awhile. As the 'experts' have said, you need to push yourself into doing things while mourning any loss, or you just stagnate and everything can get worse. What you do is up to you, but do something to dig yourself out of that hole. I know what you mean by the new-found disinterest in normally-interesting things, though. I've felt quite panicked upon each new discovery in relation to this, mainly because all of the things I've lost interest in ( for the most part ) are things that gave me a sense of purpose and were things by which I defined myself before. Perhaps this is why so many say they don't know who they are anymore, after a loss. That's not what I say, but it's frightening nonetheless, as I wonder what I'm supposed to do with the rest of my days if I don't much enjoy the things that were among my greatest thrills. I mean....what's left then?!?! I always had a hard enough time figuring out 'what I wanted to be when I grew up' ( like, to date! ), w/o this added roadblock! I'm just hoping that, with more grief work and more focus on added activity, that might just return of its own accord. I'd love to tell you something positive for the final signing and walk-through at the house, but I just keep imagining having to do that...and my heart just sinks. I know it's simply going to be tough - bring lots of Kleenex and remember you can always post when you're done. What day do you do this on? Call me thick, but I don't understand why you'd find it "defeating" to see a counselor? Maybe it's just me, but I've always thought of getting counselling as no different whatsoever from going to any kind of doctor or other practitioner for a physical problem you want or need help with. As long as they're good ( same for any specialty ) and you're comfortable with their personality, they're there to help YOU. If you didn't have to actually pay for it, they'd be considered good friends, helping you out in a time of need. I liked the psychologist I was seeing, even though I'm still having some problems and need to either go back or try someone or something else besides. If it were free, I'd be there every second day!

Dear Paul, Oh, it's good to hear from you again! I'd very much enjoyed our first chats/sharings and yes, I had been wondering what happened to you. But I understand the whole holiday thing ( plus your mom's birthday - the same day as my furbaby's, who just turned 19 ) and how you can get so immersed in the mourning, robbing you of energy for other things. So not to worry. I'm glad to hear you've come to a decision, at least for current circumstances, about your family problems. Even that is a help in healing, rather than that nebulous waffling that surrounds indecision. ( where I'm still at, unfortunately ) I have to concur with the feeling of annoyance when people are sitting on the fence - I thought I was the only one to react the same way! I've recently experienced the same kind of thing with one aunt, who has a need to be 'popular' among the relatives. Despite me telling her the absolute FACTS about my brother's actions, she's excusing/ignoring his behaviours ( to my 'face' ) yet still writing me, the wronged party. I understand she's lonely and wants as many people as possible to fill her life, but her ethics are certainly lacking and there's no chance of that changing at her age. I wrote her once, at Christmas, because she sent me a card and letter....but I won't be making that mistake again. So I also understand your decision to focus on your own life and allow your family to go their own ways. That's what I'd done myself, many years ago ( except for my Mom )....it was just my Mom's death that brought back those desires to have some semblance of a family-of-origin again, and I hope that desire will subside again and die a natural death. It's funny you should mention that your past decisions were coloured by the tapes in your head from your parents. Although for the most part, I no longer lived this way, I've noticed some vestiges of this still in the background of late, and have discovered how someways I operated were still influenced by those old tapes. Like washing my car ~ I just realized that now that my Mom's not here, I really don't seem to care the way I did if my car is clean outside, and haven't washed it in months! ( I don't use it much, though )A tiny thing, you might think, but it made me realize just how deep some of these things lay inside. It's so stupid, too, because it was never as if my Mom would actually ever see my car, since we lived in different places and couldn't visit. I've realized alot of things I've done were done with the inner intent to either 'prove' myself to my Mom ( and sometimes, my dad ) or somehow 'make her proud' of me, even though I knew she'd never see or know about them. It was all just in my head. This has lead to some depression, since I was never really doing these things for only myself and now I don't seem to have the same impetus to do them. Sometimes I really hate these learning curves! BTW, I forgot, long ago, to remark on your use of certain words that bring a smile to my heart...like "alkies" and "keester"....I had to chuckle, as these were words I heard often from my Mom...so thanks for that nice, little blast from the past! Something I'm in the process of doing for myself, to try and rid myself of the demons that plague me, both from the family past and the present trouble with my brother, father and relatives, is working through the "Grief Recovery Handbook" by the Grief Recovery Institute. So far I agree with 99% of the statements they make about grief/losses and working through them effectively. I have yet to DO the actual exercises ( still reading the first part ), which unfortunately, I must do without a partner, but it sounds promising. They speak of healing our broken hearts with the heart rather than the intellect, and I just feel this is accurate, as any true healing I've ever experienced hascome from the emotional side, not my head. Their program is used for any kind of loss, including relationships ( living and dead ), moving, family homes, divorce, health, you name it, so I figure this pretty much will cover my entire life to date, if it works as well as they ( and some others I've talked to ) claim. If you're interested, the G.R.I. has a website. There are also a number of articles there which are well worth reading. The book seems to be easy to find just about anywhere, for $20 plus taxes. ( you might ask around about their program, as I'm sure many counselors have heard about it ) Did you manage to find work? I would hope so, as you really are a very intelligent man and I can't imagine anyone not considering you a big asset! Overall, it sounds like you've got a solid plan in place for healing and I think the good head you have on your shoulders will be a definite aid. However, as things come up for you, don't be averse to bringing them forward here - I get a lot more from those who share similar stories and therefore, their processes during healing. I'll be pondering further much of what you last said here. And Happy Birthday next Tuesday! And hey, I'm already well past your 43 years, so try not to get too depressed about it until at least your 45th! ( I know, though, how sad our own birthdays can feel without our moms ) And buy yourself a little cake or other goodie. Like you said, ya gotta LIVE your own life. Take good care and hope to hear back from you soon.

Dear DB, It's good to hear from you again, and I'm so happy for you, as it sure sounds like Smokey is using Pogo ( and what a cute name ) to let you know he's still keeping close to you. I think I know what you mean about it feeling a little weird, as the supposed boundaries between our loved ones are blurred when this kind of thing happens. Perhaps it will help to think of it this way: If it's true that there really IS no separation between us All, then it becomes easier to see and believe that another supposedly 'separate' form of a being can 'house' another's energy/essence, even at the same time as that other one is IN form. ( I hope that makes sense ) This is my loose theory on how this can occur, anyway. If Pogo keeps displaying Smokey's behaviours, you might just get used to it so that you can relax a bit and have a conversation with Smokey, just believing that he's right there for the moment. This is what I'd do with Nissa, when she'd start doing some Sabin-like thing, and honest-to-God, she'd often stop and just listen to whatever short comment I'd make to Sabin. After a few of these occurances, I got to the point of looking very forward to them....after which they didn't happen as much! So my advice to you is to try and enjoy them for whatever they're worth, for as long as they happen. I can't remember now if I'd also mentioned that I also swore one particular robin who hung around alot the first year Sabin was gone, was also carrying Sabin's spirit here for several visits...but I still think so today. And I still miss my precious boy, my Sweet Boo-Boo. I haven't heard from him in the longest time now....and I hope he hears this thought and swings by soon....

FUNNYFACE, Had to laugh, imagining those tomatoes growing! LOL! ( I always appreciate some good humour to lighten the load! ) But I know what you mean...a number of years ago I had to slow down some in my lifestyle, for both physical and mental reasons, but NOW....it's gotten ridiculous! With grief, comes so much energy depletion, we're so involved in emotional release ( or suppression! ) that we expend great amounts of energy just in trying to heal. I've now got housework that's been due for YEARS, not just weeks or months....and I'm a neatnic, so this doesn't sit well at all! For your trip, I know someone who was still grieving a loss, and the one-year anniversary fell just 2 days into her trip, so she was both worried and very ambiguous about going. However, just getting away from her rut did help her, and even on the anniversary date, she found she was so busy with things that it went much better than she'd anticipated. So you could maybe try not to put any expectations on yourself, one way or the other, and see how it just goes naturally. Maybe you'll get enough of a break from griefwork that it will all be worth it afterall. It's also a good thing for you that your family is willing to do the work of planning everything - I doubt I'd get that much cooperation or instigation out of my husband! lol! And I'll be waiting to hear how everything goes for you after signing those papers, etc.

Maureen, My sincere condolences on losing your mom and then having to suffer further because of your family. I know the same sort of feeling, having also been through the wringer with my immediate family and relatives, and friends, too. I, too have been abandoned in my grief and got only one card from an aunt this Christmas ( which led to a really upsetting letter from her a few wks. later, so that was a wash anyway ) and none from friends, either - 2 years after my Mom's death. Too many of us are simply forgotten, or avoided ( pick your poison ) after a major loss. What you went through with/for your mom was pretty traumatizing in the first place, not to mention the aftermath, so it's not surprising you'd now have a lot of extra grief to handle. It's also not unusual to really start feeling pain awhile after the fact, especially when there are other circumstances that add to the loss. Keep in mind, you're also suffering grief ( which isn't limited to only death ) over the loss, or absence of, your sisters. When one's world, as we had known it, falls apart and is changed in big and small ways, as one former friend put it, it really "does a number on you". I, too, question more than I ever had before, what the point of life is, why I'm here, what's it all for, what the point of my particular existence is, etc. It's gonna be along haul, trying to find some answers, as these are the really HUGE questions that we try and avoid thinking about until something forces us to confront them. So, no, you're not going batty ~ you're normal, grieving normally.......it's just not a nice space to be in. I hope this helps you to calm down, somewhat, about all the confusing feelings. The rest of the battle is the stuff of heart-work. BTW, I love the picture of your cockatiel! What a cutie!

FUNNYFACE, Although I never 'got' to do what you just did, I can well imagine how hard that must be for you. I know, even out of the very few little personal things I managed to be allowed to take of my Mom's ( like some Avon products, old make-up, etc. ), every time I finished one of them, it felt almost like a betrayal throwing out the container...another tiny piece of her life, gone again. So to have to do this with an entire household.....gad. Of course, I'm on the opposite side of the spectrum, still having the occasional dream about being able to do this task, being the only one doing it, instead of it all being sold out from under my nose, then my brother taking what was left and refusing to share even the meagerest of pieces, of memories. How can one experience memories when you're in a complete rush to get (just) clothes sorted and packed-up for shipment, having to be ever vigilant about one's father, who might explode at any second and kick you out of the house without getting anything at all then? It seems that no matter which way it goes, it's the stuff of nightmares. I'm so ambiguous about this ~ it would be so terribly lonely to do this kind of thing all by oneself, without at least one caring person there by one's side...and yet for me, it would have been preferable to not being able to even stop and hold something precious, stop and look at ( and save ) some precious photographs of years gone by, without any outside pressure or hostile family member around to stop the tears and those memories. For my situation, it was worse for me having 2 family members there, but feeling totally alone regardless...alone in my sorrow, alone in my frustration and anger. Although my now-dead brother was there, too, he was his typical mostly-detached/removed self...with both of us under our father's critically-watchful eye, so what little we could have shared was denied us anyway. Oh, to turn back the hands of time and be able to change how it all happened.... My parents had been in our family home for about 45 years, so I know, too, how much history is wrapped up there....almost my entire lifetime, at the time. It can feel so very much like it's your life that's ended as well. That's part of what makes losing a parent(s) so much harder in some ways than other losses. It's not just about them - it's our childhood and adolescence and at least part of our adulthood, too....all entwined in physical stuff. I thought I'd emotionally given up alot of those sentimentalities years ago, when I'd had to estrange myself from everyone but my Mom ( for my sanity ), but I was so wrong. And since my Mom was the only one who really loved me, being denied physical possession of the 'girlie'-type household items, the things my brothers and father wouldn't have cared less about anyway, was like being denied my daughterhood, making her absence even more stinging. I don't know if I'll ever really get over this part of what is now also a part of my depressing history ( a part I'd rather forget ), either. It just added another dimension of pain to carry, and all the logic in the world, all the intellectual mind-play in the world, isn't going to fix this insult. To me, it's just one of the many, huge ways my Mother's life, and death, was unchangeably demeaned, forever. I guess this wasn't of much help to you, but I just keep having to talk about it....sorry.

I have to be bolder now than I've been. It's been a few days since I posted, for only the 2nd time, about the loss of my brother, and I'm feeling like I'm not supposed to talk about him still. Is my 'case' too complicated, or what? For 2 years I've tried posting on various sites every once in awhile, and this is now feeling just like the way my whole family, friends and relatives have treated me....silence, for the most part, as if my grief for him doesn't count, as if his life didn't impact me. I knew that sibling grief was a disenfranchised type of grief, but it's looking more and more like ADULT sibling grief is even worse than that. I just can't keep giving, while not getting enough back to get help for myself, too. Is there NO ONE who can relate to what I've said about my brother?

I don't know where to turn for help with this, so all I can do is post here and hope someone has some words of wisdom, some advice for me. I just received a letter from my Mom's sister, the aunt who I'd had a falling-out with after my Mother's and brother's deaths. We already know she suffers from paranoia ( at least 2 other relatives have noticed the same thing ), so certain things in her letter can be discounted, as her stories are getting wilder and wilder ( and more gruesome ) all the time. And much of the family news she wrote about can't be trusted, because of that. However, she's obviously talked to my remaining brother, at least in Nov./05, and so I've found out that another uncle has indeed died, whose estate was to go to my father, but my brother has taken his money as his own, even though our father isn't dead yet, but in a home, with dementia. She also mentioned that my Mother's, an aunt's and this uncle's ashes are still at my brother's house, uninterred. That was enough, in itself, to upset the heck out of me. But then I discovered that my brother has also been lying to her, too, and claimed he was still paying a monthly bill to the home our father's in....and boo-hoo, was having such a time with his bills. I know this is untrue because the Province had to take over his care, and took away my brother's Power of Attorney for him, directly because he wouldn't pay the home. This happened last summer, so that makes this a recent lie from the fall. He's playing "Poor Me", and this aunt is not only buying it, but is, once again, making excuses for him ( and by extension, his terrible behaviour ). I could SHRIEK!!!! NOT ONE PERSON IN MY ENTIRE FAMILY HAS EVER EXTENDED AN OUNCE OF COMPASSION FOR ME, though I was the one ( along with my Mother ) who was treated so badly by the other two. On top of this, she wondered if my father hadn't smothered my Mother with a pillow, causing her final stroke. SOB!!! And although this is a terrible thing to say to a daughter in grief, the worst part is that I wondered the same thing myself, 2 years ago, but as no autopsy was done, I realized I'd just never know for certain. So now I sit, with this idea brought up anew, to add to my sorrow, again. There was more news, too, of her family, much of it involving her daughter, the one cousin who's let me down so badly this year, and suggesting I shouldn't trust her...but this is from someone I know is paranoid....same as my father is with his demetia. Another sister of my Mom's has dementia, too now. So now, as I sit with all these horrid memories, and refreshed rage at my father, brother and this aunt and cousin, I feel like I'm in Hell. My entire family, plus a number of relatives, seem to all be suffering from one form of mental illness or another. Not only does this make me extremely frightened for my OWN sanity which, goodness knows, might suddenly take such a nose-dive, too, but makes me seriously wonder if I ought to run fast and far, away from ALL of them forever?!! I'd just been considering calling this one cousin, to find out if she was ever going to send me the pictures of my Mom she claimed to have, or not - to finalize at least that in my mind. Now I don't know if they're ALL loopy, or what! I'm going 'mental' myself, with seeing that in MY family, there is no hope for anything good to come of anything. Years ago, I used to think, "Okay, good...I've distanced myself from all the craziness....now I'll be okay, now I can recover..." Now I'm wondering if these mental health problems are going to get ME, too, sooner or later. Now it seems like a never-ending pattern of abuses, among ALL my relatives, towards everyone who comes into contact with any of them. Gawd....I just keep losing more and more pieces of myself, more of my history, any good that used to be in it....every single year. I'm totally blown away, ripped up inside, and don't know what to do anymore. I can't live with this.

Hello, fellow animal-loss grievers. I just read this article on the Grief Recovery Institute's site, and wanted to share it with all of those who come here seeking empathy in the loss of your furbabies. I think this article belongs at the beginning of any furbaby's parent's grieving process, before any damage is done by others who lack understanding and compassion about our particular loss. And so I offer this address as another aid in your eventual recovery. ( I would have simply copied and pasted the actual article here, but I wasn't sure if such copying was allowed from that site. ) http://www.grief-recovery.com/Articles/As_..._as_it_Gets.htm

kayc, Yes, something similar happened with my Mother's wedding rings, too. She'd had this honkin' big one that, by present-day estimates, would have been worth about $40,000 (!!!Gak!!!), plus her small wedding band, but both made of platinum, so expensive jewelry. I found out a few years before she died that she'd 'consented' ( he may have forced her, for all I know ) to let my dad sell them, as they needed money. All well and good, by my books, as I'd tried to convince her to sell other things through the years, to pay off their debts, and to give her some money for her old age needs. However, my father sold them for a measly $4600 or so. This was his pattern - buy high and sell way too low...'til they ended up in the poorhouse. The part about this that angers me to this day, more than anything else, is that when my Mother got to the point where they wouldn't allow her to go home ( to die ) because she needed 24-hr. care, with specialized equipment ( which they would have had to rent or buy ), my father said there was no money for that....when they would have had a big stash if he hadn't 'sold out' on her rings. As a result, she died in a rehab. centre, alone, with 6 months of not even having a TV or phone in her room....all because of my father's greed, yet stupidity with money. Knowing my father, he used that money to fuel his life-long obsession with "making a million dollars", the only thing he ever cared about. And as if that weren't heinous enough, although he wouldn't allow me or anyone else to take anything sentimental or otherwise after she died, the saddest thing is, neither did he keep anything of his own wife's for himself. He was too obsessed with getting back out on the road to sell things...at the age of 85! So there was NO sentimentality ascribed to anything that had been hers, or to their marriage. It was business-as-usual. My point is, those who suffer from dysfunctions, especially when life's stresses mount, can and do commit some pretty irrational acts to try and desperately hang on to whatever they feel might fill up whatever they're lacking inside to be happier. And while we might be able to intellectually understand such acts, we still have feelings about them that need to be worked through....though don't ask me HOW half the time! And as I've discovered with each loss ( death or other types ), at the core is often the loss of a dream, or an ideal. As you said, "...whether your grief is for the loved one or for the good memories you never got to have...", or a combination of the two, losing those dreams are often just as hard as losing something more concrete. And once that bubble has burst, it makes recovery even more elusive. I can completely empathize with your heart-breaking discovery and realize that it can feel like a betrayal of your very values and morals, but despite that, in your case you DID share much love, too, and I think upon more reflection you may be able to separate your husband's real Self from his addictive self, much as I've done with my Mother ( though NOT my father! ). No one is all good, or all bad, so I guess it depends on just how far those scales were tipped to one side or the other. ( for my dad, there was VERY little of the good, so I'm done trying to understand or forgive ) I thank you for sharing, too, and for allowing me to give and take in this forum.

shell, No, not crazy at all!! I've felt the same way myself, with not only the losses, but with each shock from people's behaviour, each crazy event that followed each loss...every, 'little' thing that went so wrong. I kept saying for months, " Gawd!...I swear there's a black cloud following me around here! It's like someone put a curse on me!!" It's quite a black hole, and it's not like I'm seeing those clouds part yet, either. I'm still waiting, and none too patiently anymore, for the balance that's supposed to follow the down-times. Most times, it seems like the Universe is saying I, personally, somehow don't deserve the happier times.

kayc, Although I don't properly 'belong' on this forum, I still read it and had to respond as well. For me, it was my entire family who suffered from one addiction or another - my father, a problem drinker, workaholic, abuser in all forms; my Mother, alcoholic, workaholic; my dead brother, a physical abuser and goodness-knows what else, a child molester ( of me, once ); remaining brother, workaholic, physical and verbal abuser. There have never been enough 'pages' or times in a day to recount all the problems I've had to deal with regarding my family, and then the deaths of my Mom and brother, but I've found these forums to be of help in 'getting the word out', when most people physically in my life either don't want to know/listen or are too shocked for my own good. I, too, have noticed that so many ( but not all ) people, on this forum and any other, have nothing but good to say of their loved ones...by stark comparison to me. I've found myself wishing I'd had parents even half as loving and loved as many of those who have lost their partners. Then I end up wondering too often....is it just me, ONLY me, who carries such a mixed-bag of emotions and thoughts about my family ( and even my first husband, also an abusive man and a drinker ), yet still feels love for at least some of them? It was the same with my Mother, who I see in both her good and bad lights...realistically. I still loved her, still do, because I could see beneath her addiction. I could see a basically-good woman who just had too hard a time with life, much as I'm having now. And my brother, too, still has my love, despite all he's done. I DID find out he was as sensitive as I am, too late to connect with him on that level. While it wasn't after death that I found out some secrets about my family, they are still things that will never be answered, due to circumstances now and the fact that I couldn't ask anyone about them before, again, due to circumstances at the time. So I live with the added pain these things bring up, too, and the knowledge that they will never be resolved for me. It's tough, really tough, so I can empathize with how you feel. From one such sufferer to another ~ just know that you're not alone, either.

As I approach the 2nd year anniversary of my brother's death, things are stirring inside. I just woke up this morning after having a dream about him, me and the family business where we both worked years ago. What's sticking with me is the clarity of when I saw him walk into the store....so real I could almost smell the outside air on him as he entered from the street. His mannerisms, his walk, the pipe hanging from his mouth and the tiny grin he gave me in his normally-reserved way. It shocked the heck out of me once I awoke, to realize I'd forgotten all these miniscule things...but worse, that it felt so 'homey' to see him again, to experience him, exactly how he used to be. It felt like I'd actually seen him in the flesh. And now, I'm missing him like I've never missed him to date. It was sort of like same-old, same-old, yet things were different, in a sad, and terribly lonely way, as the store was dark, and sort of half-closed to the public, yet here he was, walking in, ready to start another day at work...but like he knew, too, that things were different but with some kind of understanding that I didn't have about how things were now. Yet I also knew that our Mother was now dead, our father conspicuously absent and nothing was really the way it had been, so many years ago. I guess I'm finally starting to grieve his death, and it hurts like hell. I was so 'removed' from his death before. Not in the same city, the sudden call from his 'wife' telling me he was very ill, and in the hospital, mere weeks after our Mother had died....nothing I could do, nothing anyone could do...he was on full life-support from the moment they got there. The nightmare of hearing his 'wife', who I'd never yet met in person, sounding so 'professional', for lack of a better word. Telling me he had trouble zipping up his coat suddenly, saying, "You'd better take me to the hospital..." the last words he spoke, as far as I know. Knowing, from just that one statement, that he was seriously sick, as my brother hated doctors, hospitals, taking care of himself physically. Yet this woman, who I already knew had wanted to be rid of him for many years ( she'd told me this herself, in the very first conversation we'd ever had! ), delayed getting him there. Stopped ( somewhere...back to their house? a store? ) to get some FOOD for their son first!!! WHAT?!?!?! Who would DO such a thing when someone is so obviously ill?!?! As if the hospital wouldn't have any food...as if anyone, including their son, would FEEL like eating at such a time! Who would do such a thing? I'll tell you who - someone who wanted someone to die. Even if nothing would have ultimately been different, this woman made sure my brother wouldn't survive. And although I know my brother wouldn't have wanted to keep living all impaired ( he'd had a massive, bleeding stroke in his brain ), who's to say how impaired he would have been had she not delayed? Then to suffer all the additional shocks she sent my way, after she'd had them stop life-support 5 days later ( I never could go and see him, as we had no money left for another trip home for me )...telling me afterwards that she'd been praying to God to help her out of her situation with him...and that God had answered her prayers. While I'd already decided she was a total nutbar, this was the icing on the cake. Who would say, with no compunction, such an insensitive thing to someone who'd just lost their brother?!?! As far as I'm concerned, this was murder by omission and convenience. Apparently, she even recounted her little food trip to others at his funeral no less, so it wasn't just a mistaken comment made only once. I'd already had dozens of shocks in the last 6 months, all having to do with my Mother's illness, death and the rest of our family's behaviours, so all this just added to the surreal feelings I was already stuck in. My brother got a blue coffin, and a donated plot, and an obituary with my name spelled wrong. I complained to her about it and she did apologize, excusing herself by claiming she'd been in a rush and rather frazzled. I'd just written my Mother's obit, which was of course, at my brother's house, too, clearly containing my name. It was probably best that our Mother was dead already, not to have to see such a fiasco. But I was still here, fully aware and horrified. And I unexpectantly got a Christmas card this year from this woman....with my namespelled wrong again inside, spelled correctly on the envelope. I've not responded. She'd offered to save something of my brother's for me, and I gave her some preferences, but she never followed through. And now it's coming up 2 years. But then this dream...I wonder now if I should write this woman a letter, and be totally honest about how I felt then, and now? It's really hitting home now - he's just gone- just like our Mom, and I seem to be the only one left who even gives a damn, who's ever cried for either of them. I've never seen his grave, my Mom's ashes are off-limits to me in my remaining, evil brother's keeping. I've had no opportunity to talk to anyone about my dead brother, our story, my story about him. The few people who would listen to me at all, only heard some things regarding my Mom's stuff, as there was SO much to tell around that alone ( no one has the patience to hear the whole, sorry mess ), and my brother has become a faint shadow in the background....until this dream. The stress ended up killing him, but I...I'm obviously 'fortunate' enough to be 'stronger' and so have remained 'alive' to survive all the stress. Lucky me.

John, Thanks so much for this extensive list! I think I've read the one by Hickman, but don't really remember if I liked it alot or not. If you remember, how did you find "A Year to Live" by Levine? I've often thought I should read that one, but don't know if I could accomplish what's in it very well. What's "Unattended Sorrow" about? I have read "The Power of NOW" by Tolle, and would think it would likely be a good companion to "Grieving Mindfully" as it deals with ONLY the Present....not something I'm good at, either. I've also read "Wherever You Go..." but again, haven't managed to apply those ideas much, either. I'm currently reading "Easy Death" by Avatar Adi Da Samraj, and am having nothing but problems with this one. It's bringing up so many fears, it's not funny! You do so much for so many, John, as well as all the past and ongoing things in Jack's memory....you're one heck of a person and I admire your strength and determination in your oh-so-challenging journey. I'm sure Jack ( or his energy, however it works )is just beaming with love for you, as your efforts radiate outward in unceasing circles. God Bless.

As of Jan./06, I see there are still recurring problems with both logging-in and getting notifications of postings. I'm surprised these problems have lasted so long. I find sometimes I don't have to log in, other times I do, but despite logging in ( and seeing my screen name shown up top ), more often than not, when I try to post, it doesn't remember me and I show up as a "Guest"....or as "Guest - Maylissa", if I've entered my name in the box above the posting section. For notifications, it's still always a few DAYS late in sending a notice, and I even get notifications of posts I've made myself, but it will tell me someone else has replied - when I go and look, it's ME, not someone else. Also, lately, the box to check off notifications by email doesn't even appear before submitting my post, about 1/2 the time.

Tinkerbell, I'm so very sorry to hear you lost your dear Bili, and to kidney failure no less. Our remaining fur-girl, a cat, has the same thing and it all began for her when her brother passed away at age 13, 6 years ago. I know I will probably have to face the same thing you just did, and I'm so frightened of that day, I can barely think about it, much less speak of it. But you should know, you did the kindest thing you could do, considering Bili's condition. Kidney failure can be a very painful thing to die from, from what I've been told, and all you can do is try to determine when it's time for your beloved one to be helped out of that pain. None of us are perfect and although we desperately want to be for the sake of our loving furchildren, we can only observe, get advise, and make our best guesses about what to do for them, and when. They KNOW our hearts, though, even when we might make mistakes. They FEEL that energy coming from us, so take heart...Bili knew how you felt. He was probably also just trying to do the right things for both of you as well. The love you two shared is still alive, just in another form. If you hear him still around, he's probably visiting, knowing you need him still, for now. My boy's sister and I both heard her brother ( and I also felt him once ) for several weeks afterwards. Take comfort in that, talk to him ( out loud or silently, it doesn't matter ) and tell him everything you need to say now. Keep giving him your heart's messages. He will hear you, just as he did before. Look for signs around you that he is near....and try not to doubt them. Thank him for them if you see or hear any. Your love will always bind you together. Trust in that. All of us here know where you are, as we've all been there, too. Talk here, if you can't talk at home. We all understand your extreme pain, otherwise we wouldn't be here, either. I don't have certain answers to your pleas, but I know what you want. Not just those answers, but for Bili to come back! I KNOW how this feels and it takes a long time for some of us to get past that point - took me 2 years of heavy grief, then another year of more under-functioning...and still, it can hit me again in an instant at times. We've all essentially lost our 'children', so we need to express that and try to live through that cruellest of pains, which are worse for us because the world is only beginning to acknowledge inter-species connections as being as important as they are. I'm just so sorry....

Thanks, Maggie, for your input into this topic. I, too, was not able to get to my Mom's bedside before she passed, but I still don't know what would have been worse....seeing her die before my eyes, or not having to remember such a horrid picture, forevermore. My biggest regret with that is just not being there for HER sake. From a free, after-death reading someone gave me, of which I don't know whether there's any merit or truth in it or not, I received the message that she was "very scared", as no one was there with her. While I realized years ago that she might suddenly die at home, with no warning, I'd never imagined that, were she in an institution of any sort, with any warning given, that I then wouldn't be able to get there in time. It's a hard cross to bear no matter which way it goes, I suppose. While I haven't even taken the Christmas decorations down yet, I'm very glad the holidays are over for another year. After THIS year's, I'm dreading next year's even more than I had this year, as it was so much harder in many ways. But I also have yet to go through my beloved furbaby's anniversary on Feb.2 and then my brother's on Feb.28 ( 29th - it was a Leap Year, actually ), so I'm not really breathing YET. And with every, daily report on the news about Israel's P.M., I'm reliving the horrors of my brother's quick death, as he also had a massive cerebral stroke, from which he never regained consciousness. I also never got to see him, either, in hospital, as we had no money left for me to fly back home for a 3rd time that terrible year. Everything came in 2's ~ 2 months after I last saw my Mom, she died. I'd flown back to see her 2 times. Two months after she died, my brother died. Two months after he died, we finally got some income again ( too late to help matters ). My furbaby died on 02/02/2000. My Mother died Jan.2. 2's scare the dickens out of me now! So every second day of every month is also fraught with fears....and now that I'm completely off-topic, I'll stop!

As the child of an alcoholic, Regret is my second name! I spent the larger part of my life trying to 'fix' everyone in the family, especially my Mom - a common reaction for one family member to take on as their 'role' in an alcoholic family. So trying to abolish this reaction in myself after my Mother's death has been a renewed and ongoing battle. Logic plays no part in this, unfortunately, but is what I must use to push through it, in order that I survive my loss. As you said, Patti, it's often hard, if not impossible, to "get" someone to do what's best for them once they're set in their ways. My Mother would almost never listen to my advise, and frankly, her doctors wouldn't listen to me, either, as they ignored far too much of the inside information I told them and didn't seem to have a clue about all the ins and outs of alcoholism and how that should influence their choices around her care. They stupidly, continually gave her prescription drugs that even non-alcoholics often abuse, for years before she got so ill, just as one example. So all I can tell myself, and believe!, now, is that I DID try to help...maybe not perfectly, maybe not as much as some others might have, but I did what I thought best at the time, or the most I could do at any given time. I did more than others were doing, for years....and the rest? Destiny? The Way It Was Supposed To Be? I just hang onto the fact that, in the end, it was ME my Mother loved so much, and I loved her more fully and unconditionally than I ever had before, and though our time in this new psycho-spiritual space was too brief, at least we GOT that. At least we had something no one else in our own family had ever achieved....together. At least our sheer determination to love each other and BE Mother and Daughter 'won'....and I can never regret that!