Why are women so weird?

As a woman, I am often flabbergasted at the things I hear that some of my fellow women put up with or do in their relationships. Chalk it up to the way I was brought up but if any man in my life put his hands on me in a threatening or intimidating way, I would have his ass locked up faster than the proverbial speeding bullet. I work in the field of social work and I hear, again and again, of women who keep going back or attracting the same type of brutes. Some of them have been seriously hurt, almost to the point of death. I know it can take years of therapy to get the woman to break the cycle and realize she deserves better but it still disturbs me when I hear of this.

It also disturbs me when I hear someone talking about their partner cheating on them and they are angry with the other woman but want to stay with the man whose done the cheating. Seriously? He slept with someone else. That means he's not that into you any more and has probably done this before and will do this again. I cannot think of any reason compelling enough to stay. I say take the butthole for all he's worth and move on with your life. He's a loser.

In that same vein, what is with these other women who are fully aware that this dreamboat they just slept with has a girlfriend or, even worse, a wife and kids. I've heard co-workers talking about their "situations" like this were the "other woman" wants to confront the wife and fight her! REALLY??? We live in a Jerry Springer world, for sure. All I can say is LADIES HAVE SOME SELF RESPECT!! Any man that will cheat on his wife of 14 years with you will turn around and cheat on you sooner or later. And where are your morals that you would tear that family to shreds so easily. There are a lot of men out there. Go get one that's unattached and doesn't come with baggage. If he does leave his wife, and that's a big IF, he will be paying her alimony and child support for a very long time so don't expect diamonds and roses or even a night out on a date any time soon. And if he's one of those losers that will duck out of his child support payments so he can get you roses, why would you want to be with a jerk like that anyway?

I grew up in a family of strong women. One important lesson my mother taught us all is to be true to ourselves and never compromise our integrity for anyone. It surprises me that so many woman out there will choose to beat down another woman for some chucklehead that probably doesn't deserve either one of you in the first place.

Get some backbone. Hold on to your dignity. And, for heaven's sake, hold out for the good ones. Because you know what? They are out there, ladies. And when you find them they will treat you like a queen!

Dignity...

My mother is dying.

Sorry to be so blunt but there is no other way to put that which both gets right to the point and illustrates the abruptness of death, regardless of how long a person lives.

She is dying.

Over the past months, I've watched her struggle to come to terms with her own mortality. When she had her stroke, she fought with each breath her 93 year old body could muster. She worked hard through her therapy and always, always, always lamented each day she had to be in that nursing home. She was being tube fed and all she could think about was solid food. She's ask us, every single time we visited, what we had to eat that day. When the day came when she could eat solid food again, she told me to "go home" when I came to visit her at that first dinner hour. She wanted to savor that dinner roll all on her own without the interruption of having to also make small talk! When she finally came home, she continued to work through her therapies but it was difficult. She was tired. Her body couldn't take much more.

She became frustrated. This was taking too long, this recovery. And it was harder than she could imagine. And she was stuck in a body that wouldn't cooperate, wearing adult diapers, not able to make sense of her words but with a mind as sharp as a tack which made it all the more frustrating. She became sad. She never wanted to be a burden, to have someone have to do anything for her let alone now do literally everything. She suffered the embarrassment of having her son-in-law have to lift her to the toilet while someone else pulled her pants down exposing her just so she could eliminate herself. She choked, often. Her ability to swallow was compromised so even the slightest bit of food or water could set off terrifying bouts of coughing and gasping for air. She ate less and less and now eats so little she is barely getting any nutrition at all. She went from a robust 148 pounds to about 90 pounds, if that. She cannot heal. She has a sore on her bottom and backside that is eating into her muscle and bone and oozing all the time in spite of the nurses packing it daily. Her pain increased in spite of her trying to keep up with therapy and now she is on morphine all the time.

My mother is dying. But...

She is dying at home surrounded by her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. She has at least one moment every day when she still gets a good laugh. She hears someone say "I love you" several times each day. She gets to sit and pet Bella, her best canine friend. She has time to sit outside with the sun warming her thin face. She has been able to smell the spring flowers and see the first summer veg come up in the garden. She has been able to watch and bemoan her beloved Chicago Cubs while gently sipping a Miller Genuine Draft that she is never able to finish. She can still play cards every weekend. And win. She quietly welcomed her sisters for a visit a few weeks ago and tolerated that as best she could. They were understanding and grateful of the time they had together. It will be there last. She prays everyday. She asks if she will get to heaven. If she doesn't, none of us have a chance! She wonders what heaven will be like and we assure her that it will be just as she always believed it to be with Dad and my Grandparents and Aunt Sophie all waiting to welcome her in.

One day soon, I know, my mother will stop breathing and go into that great last adventure. After watching her struggle and hurt and suffer and wane away to almost nothing, I know that day will be a blessing for her. I'm ready for that day. I think she is too. But what I am most grateful for is that my mother could spend these last months, weeks, days, in the bosom of her family. Family has always been the most important thing in her life. We grew up with nothing but she always made us understand that we have each other. And now she has us and this is the proof that there can and should be dignity in life and dignity in death. No one should die alone and unloved. My mother will be celebrated when she finally passes. She will be celebrated by her former students, her colleagues, her friends but most of all her family. We are all who we are today because of her. We owe her so much. And I know that my life, in some way, has been a testament to this amazing lady.

My mother is dying.
And we are all at peace with that.

When do you know you've had enough...

My mother is 93 years old. Last Christmas Eve, while getting ready for our family holiday celebration, she had a major stroke. She spent the next couple of months either in the hospital, at the Stroke Center, or getting rehab at the nursing home. She's home now, living with my sister, and is doing okay. Just okay...

When she was able to return home we were all full of hope that she would continue on her path of recovery and get stronger everyday. She was speaking up as best she could, utilizing her throat muscle so she could not only speak but swallow. She was doing her therapy every single day, moving her stiff arms and legs as best she could to regain as much strength as she could. She ate as much solid food as possible, yet still drank her supplement at every meal so she could stay strong and ward off illnesses. We were hopeful. And so was she.

Today, my mother is down to about 100 lbs. She eats like a bird and barely speaks above a whisper unless prompted and then she does it begrudgingly. She cannot make the words come to mind of what it is she wants to say. This frustrates her beyond imagining. She cannot enjoy the foods she used to love because without full swallowing power there are many things she cannot eat. Today, she almost choked to death on a tiny sip of coffee.

My mother's hair is always a mess these days. I comb it for her every change I get but she lies in her bed so much that it is impossibly crushed on her head at any given time. She cannot have a conversation because she cannot get the words to come out right and that makes her both angry and sad. Today, she wanted to tell me to pass along birthday greeting to Alex. She could not say Alex but instead the words, "slap me, slap me, slap me" came out instead. She knew this wasn't right. She knew that wasn't what she was trying to say but the words get stuck on an internal loop in her brain and they come out sideways more often than not. She finally put her hands over her face and cried.

Once in a while, Mom will look into my eyes and shake her head with a deep sigh. I smile at her and do my best to cheer her up but I know what she's saying. She's telling me that she would not wish this life, her life as it is, on her worst enemy. My mom was always the strongest person I knew, even when she was older. She was the wisdom in my life. She was the gage of goodness, decency and kindness. There was no task too large for my mom to tackle and no lesson too delicate to learn. She was the backbone of our family and, the six of us, gather each weekend, having the usual brunch, playing the usual card games, in the hope that just doing those things we have always done will make things "usual" again. But I know they will not. This is not usual that my Mom is slowly slipping away from us. And, I have to confess, there is a part of me that thinks she may be slipping too slowly. Is it wrong to wish that someone you love would pass away? Because I do wish that. I wish it for her more every time I am with her. She would not want this for herself and, in her sighs, and tears, I know she does not want this for herself. She does not want to be fed, bathed, and toileted by anyone. There is no dignity in this life for her. For a woman who lived with great integrity and dignity, these days are difficult.

Though she cannot tell me, I'm sure that when she prays at night, she is praying for her God to take her quickly.

Until then, I have to keep my chin up...and hers. Maybe time will be kind. We'll see....

Someone I'll never forget...

(This is another one from the past...1998 to be exact...)

There was a point in my life that I felt I needed to earn more money than case management was paying me. I left the agency and took a job as a Program Manager for one of the larger corporate run residential service providers. Half way through the year I worked for them, they purchased two homes from another agency and set them up as community based residential facilities. The homes opened in mid-June of that year, understaffed and not ready. As the coordinator, I was called on a lot to come in and work full shifts with the residents.

One of the residents was a man who had previously lived in his own apartment. He was born with Cerebral Palsy. He had lived a full life and, as his abilities slipped away, he became angry. Many people refused to work with him because be could be a real pistol. He would say the meanest, most hurtful things to the staff. Or he would say things steeped in sexual innuendo which made the staff uncomfortable. The horrible irony of it was that his disability made it impossible for him to do anything. He could not even feed himself let alone act on any impulse he may have. When he came to the home he was decidedly not happy that this was the course his life had taken. Once able to drive, study, teach and lead a life full by any standards was now limited only to his imagination and fading memories. And to make matters worse, the disabilities of the other residents made him feel like he didn't belong anywhere.

Larry made it difficult for many of the staff to work with him. He was demanding. He wanted things his way and let everyone know it. Most of the staff were very insecure about dealing with him. But I found that he appreciated those people who didn't cower when he bellowed. Once you established a no nonsense attitude with him, he was fine. He was also extremely intelligent and just plain funny. One of the most truly genuine funny people I have ever met. He was a virtual encyclopedia of amusing anecdotes. He had done more in his life that I had done and I was fully able. He was also a bit of a hell raiser!

One rule in the home that Larry detested was BEDTIME. He knew there was a shift change at 11pm and understood it was necessary for all personal care to be completed by then. But he had never done to bed before 10pm in his life and he saw no reason why he should start now. Since he was unable to do anything for himself, his cares demanded that two people be present. It involved a lot of lifting, shifting and tugging. Must to the chagrin of my staff, I altered the bedtime rule for Larry. He was able to stay up until the third shift person came on duty and then the second and third shift person would do his cares. This meant Larry could stay up until at least 11pm. Everyone else in the house was in bed by nine. They didn't even want to stay up later than that. This meant when I was working a second shift I got to spend a couple of hours each night just talking to Larry. Larry smoked like a fiend and we would sit on the deck while he smoked. Over the next 5 months, I realized that Larry was more than just someone who lived in a group home - he was a friend. Of course, as a social worker, I kept my professional boundaries but if circumstances were different and Larry was not disabled, I think he would have been someone I could have easily been friends with.

Unfortunately, the circumstances of the job were not good for me. I was working non-stop and I knew I needed a change. I went back to case management. Oddly enough, Larry was on my case load! But, it was only a short time later that I got a call from the group home. Larry had passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. And so sad.

I learned a lot from Larry. I learned that you really can't judge a book by it's cover. I learned that when you have no faculties to do anything physical for yourself sometimes your voice is your greatest weapon. I learned the true meaning of dignity and grace. Oh, he could be a pain in the ass and I mean a TRUE pain in the ass! I even learned to appreciate that. I still think of him often. And I know I will always miss him.