A Prayer

Lord, I don't know what to do anymore.
I try to encourage.
I try to help.
I research and look for answers.
I follow along on any path that might lead to help.
I try and be positive, happy.
When there are problems, conflicts, I try to work to resolve them. I push. I tug. I plead. I beg. I reason.

But none of it is received, none of it works.
I'm kept at a distance. I'm shut out.
I'm alone.

I've prayed. I've talked. I've cried. I've mourned. I've changed. I've read and studied. I've sought help.
And still...
here I am
and there he is
and then there is the      us.

The us,
together 33 years and yet still so far apart. What should I be doing different?

Results oriented. Maybe that's my problem. I want a response and I'm not getting one. I just need to continue to love and serve and let God do the rest but
but
but
but
Oh, there's no other way to say it. I guess I don't really trust God either if I think he needs my help to bring about results.

Actually, that's not it. I don't think God needs my help. but it's hard to care and to keep giving and to want to help and have it not received.
It's so hard.
Not physically hard but emotionally because my flesh, my spirit, my heart
feels rejected. And I wonder about my purpose.

My life seems on hold  while he works it out and there's nothing I can do to hasten the process.

But trust and pray and be faithful
and trust some more.

I know it's not true but I've entertained the thought that God loves David more. I'm one of the 99 sheep he leaves to go get the lost
one.
99 sheep left to fend for themselves while The Shepherd searches for the lost
one.

Help me Lord. Help me to continue to love, trust and serve even if there are never any results.
My life is not my own anyway so what can I be missing. Perhaps, in the end I will gain. But my prayer,
 more than anything
 is that
he gains.
And so I guess my

I's

don't' matter.

Anger, Depression, Withdraw

I'm generally in a good mood each day.
But that is challenged when I walk through the door of my home.

If it's a good day, I'll hear my name called out in an excited voice announcing my return.

If it's not then the responses vary and I feel my countenance drop.

Maybe the dogs will be yelled at for barking. Then that will be followed up by a complaint that, "my dogs have barked all day."
Maybe I'll be told, "I won't be walking the dogs with you; I haven't been able to move all day."
Or I'll just be greeted with silence.
Questions I ask will be answered softly and with one word if possible. The only sounds at dinner will be clinking of forks and knives and the evening is so quiet it feels like a morgue.

This all is the result of his chronic pain.

The anger is when he has had enough.
The depression- when he feels hopeless.
The withdraw- when he's trying to manage it, on his own, in the darkness of his mind because he really is still angry, still depressed but is tired of those feelings.

My response is varied as well. But mostly I'm disappointed and frustrated. Disappointed because I  want him to be in a good mood. Frustrated because he is not.

I can't change him. He does not accept my encouragement. My good mood is not contagious. My positive responses are met with negative ones...or none at all. I begin to wonder my purpose in all of this. He must wonder too. Wonder why he has such a cruel disease that is taking away his independence and plagues him daily with pain

How do we make sense of these things?

If this is all there was, it would be a cruel life indeed. Some are blessed with health, fortune, fame, etc And others, well, sorry. You spun the dial and got tragedy, death, illness. Then we all die and that is it. Pointless. Now that is something to be angry about. And that is depressing. Why bother? Fate has chosen and you lose.

But, if there is more....
then these words present hope and purpose take on eternal meaning. For this life is temporary and a test for the next, eternal life.

"I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and his incomparably great power for us who believe."

"But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body."

" Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."
Peace, joy, involvement.
I wish I could give him these things but he must choose them

 while trusting.

Better things await.

Maybe Better Left Unsaid

I sense my emotional closet shutting as I feel a little guilty writing my most carnal thoughts in this blog. Fear that someone will read them and I will be "found out".

And yet the conflict of wanting them to be read so I can illicit understanding are ever present.

 I have toyed with the idea of submitting these posts to some sort of MS caregiver support group. Maybe others feel the same way and they would gain comfort in knowing they are not alone but I don't know.

Demands.


Do I have the right to make any? To have any expectations in this relationship?

I mean, I should, shouldn't I?

It's like
being poor.
Just because you're poor doesn't mean you have to be messy.
I remember after hurricane Katrina, the pictures down south with the trash all over the place. It never made sense to me. Just because you lost everything does that mean you should stop using garbage cans? Some of those people were living in filth.

Well, so my husband is disabled? Does that mean he should stop showing me love? That we should just live together as two roommates, where I do the bulk of the work and have no emotional or physical relationship for my investment in this marriage?

It beguiles the mind.

I'm poor
I'm starving.
I'm alone.

I'm ok.
But it would be nice to have more.

Yes, I'm Angry

June 13th, 2016

Yes. I can finally admit it. I'm angry. For a certain amount of investment there should be a certain amount of return. And I'm not getting it. And it's not fair.

     "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."

     "Do not be deceived God is not mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

    " Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do  not give up."

Well, it's been a long time. Married thirty-two years and still waiting to have that husband that loves me, protects me, supports me and shows it. Words mean nothing without action. Especially when those words have lied before by making promises that are not kept. Especially when that pride still gets angry and wants to pretend none of those dark days have occurred by saying, "let's just move on and forget them."

Well, I'd like to but I have still not received my pound of flesh. I have still not received a changed life, heart. I still have not received humility, continued humility for the hurt, the wounds, the scars....
Scars that I would like to heal. Scars that I wish were not there. Scars that didn't have to be there. Scars that deserve to be soothed not irritated. Damn it! Damn it anyway.

Yes, he apologized. Yes, he's trying to do better. Yes. Yes. Yes.
But...
I'm left with the memories and I'm left with the wounds that he doesn't want to acknowledge by always wanting to move on. He wants to move on because he does not want to look at what he's done. He doesn't want to dwell on it. He doesn't want to think about it. But by doing that he is saying to me, "your pain doesn't matter and mine does". I know that seems silly. But I need more from him. I need to know he'll hold me through the pain. That he hurts with me. That he is truly regretful and will NEVER do anything again to hurt me. That he was wrong. I don't care how many times I have to slay the dragon. Each time he should be there to say again, how sorry he was.

~sigh~

You know, I always felt so stupid for putting up with everything, for staying with someone who was angry and stressed all the time. I don't like to feel stupid. and I don't like how he made me feel all those years. And I still don't like "the now". Alone, tired, used. Very little encouragement. Listening but not hearing me. So much weight put on my shoulders. A lot of responsibility. Too much reliance on me and not stretching himself.

Not a pretty picture, huh?

When a man loves a woman, Ha!
How 'bout when a woman loves a man?
Or when a woman loves God and wants to faithfully serve Him but still has all these flesh like thoughts?
What do you do with them?

The Broken Arm

June1, 2016

My son broke his femur at three years old. They couldn't cast it right away because he had to be put in traction first. Imagine keeping a three year old boy tethered to a bed; it was a long three weeks for him. But after the bone got pulled into place, they could cast his leg in a spica cast. Seemingly immobilizing not only his broken leg but the other leg as well, held apart by a stick. But the thing is, once he figured it out, the cast  only limited him slightly. He learned to walk around like a little chimpanzee, kind of pivoting from one foot to the other as he moved forward. He even managed to join his brothers with their wheeled toys riding down a hill in a wagon.

I relate this story because a cast offers stabilization, support, strength and only limited mobility issues. Whereas no cast offers no such thing.  In fact, no cast means the broken appendage, in this case, an arm, is just hanging, waiting for healing to take place but still broken, still swollen, still aching, still sore. Every movement that involves that appendage hurts, every accidental bump, every pull, every tug, everything.

So, when you take someone that already has mobility problems, leg weakness, balance, drop foot and you don't cast his arm, life gets pretty complicated . As my son-in-law stated, " you are a physical therapist student's worst night mare." And yet here I am, with no training, trying to make do with common sense and my wits.

Unfortunately, what this mean to my husband is without assistance, he is land locked. Stuck in the same seat all day until somebody (me) can move him.

Nursing care you ask. Nope. For whatever reason they consider this type of care, moving him from one seat to a wheelchair or getting his lunch as custodial care. I mean I get it. I took 1/2 days off from work in the beginning to assist him but after I got him moved and fed him, his need for me was kind of done. Except socially. He's alone all day. And now he can't even get out on his scooter and ride around the yard or go up to our neighbors house. He can't go to his men's group because he worries that someone else unfamiliar with his needs would move him incorrectly and he would end up getting reinjured. He worries about whether he would have to use the portable toilet while no ones there and he battles depression and his feelings of worthlessness.

So a broken arm is more than a broken arm. It's a soul breaker. And for me it's a heartbreaker.

Boot Straps

May 2nd, 2016

We've had a rough couple weeks, my husband and I. Last Sunday I spent a lot of the day crying. I really thought our relationship was over this time and I was sure I had nothing left in me to fight for it.
So, what happened?
Let's just say the details don't matter. Instead, let's just say that I was put in an uncomfortable position with his parents (one I've been trying to avoid for the last year) and my husband did not have my back. I was the cheese and I stood alone. And this was not the first time.

"For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother, and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh."

Yeah, my husband, doesn't get this.

Anyway, this started a disagreement and then a fight and then, I don't remember anymore. But what I do know, in the end, I was deeply hurt and wondered, what was I doing in a one-sided marriage?
My husband kept insisting I leave and he was not willing to do what he needed to do to keep me.

As I think back now to what I want from this man, it is quite simple, Protection.
 I also want to know I Matter,
           by fighting for me instead of against me.

But he is so insecure.
 I find out now that he never thought he was good enough for me.

I'm not sure how that makes me feel. Especially when after he confesses this he says, " so now you know." As if, tossed at my feet in a final  "you win" gesture.
Really?
So much pride and insecurity covered by bravado.
It's not attractive.
And I don't find myself feeling sorry for him but rather annoyed at times.

The "stuff" I have dealt with in this marriage. The tears I cried, the heart break, the disappointment.
I keep bouncing back. I keep fighting to make it last. I keep forgiving. I keep loving. I keep holding on. And this is my return.

In the midst of this, I called my parents. I needed my Mommy but she's been dead since I was 16 so I called the closest thing I have, my Dad and his wife. I did not call to complain, I really just needed to talk to them but they heard the trouble in my voice immediately. While I was crying my state of woe to them, I told them that I was trying to pull up my boot straps and go on but that I did not think I had any more boot straps left to pull up. In typical daddy style, my father said, "anytime you need extra boot straps you can come here and I'll give them to you." I laughed because it made no sense and yet it made sense in every way. He would help me find that strength when I thought I had nothing left.. He would support. He would protect. He would love. He would not push me away, He would help. Boot straps, those are what he offered me, extra boot straps and I knew somehow I was going to be ok.

Driving Miss, I Mean Mr. Daisy

I'm thankful for my job and the flexibility it allows me. I am able to use my accumulated sick time for me or for members of my family when they have doctors appointments, etc.
Yesterday was one such day.
Because my husband no longer drives, the responsibility to get him to his appointments falls on me. Last time we had a marathon day, where he coordinated 3 such appointments in one day. I took off one full day for that event but this time I only had to take a half day for his dentist appointment.
Because he's dependent on me to drive, he arranged for this follow-up appointment to take care of everything they found at the last appointment.
Which means...
I was there for a long while.
I read through all the newspapers I brought including doing the crossword puzzles and I took a nap.
Exciting times.
Caregiver, wife, transporter.