Well.... that was SO not the way I'd planned to spend my weekend. True, I was a lazy slug and didn't go anywhere... but that's only because I was too busy puking my guts out. Yep. Awesome. We arrived at camp on Friday afternoon after a very long and stressful drive. It didn't help that my tummy was upset, but my tummy is often upset, and I figured it was just nervousness about the camp. We got checked in and met the boys' Big Buddies. In true Comfort Zone style, they seemed to do an amazing job of making the perfect matches for each of them. Rory started out being very shy, but within a few minutes, was laughing and playing with his buddy David. Once they were settled, I was supposed to head over to dinner and the parent's meeting, but I just wasn't up for it. I was so tired, and I really didn't have the emotional strength to sit through the sharing circle... where everyone tells their story. No thanks.
I got myself checked in at the hotel and promptly put on my jammies. It was about 7:00 at that point, as I had stopped at Target, gotten gas, etc. I slept like shit that night... tossing and turning. I was up early anyway, so I decided to get dressed and go out to get some 7-up and saltines. I found a Wally World right down the street, grabbed my shiz and headed back to the hotel. The second the elevator doors closed, I knew I was in trouble. I RAN to my room and barely made it. Nice. My entire Saturday was spent alernately barfing and drifting in and out of sleep. I've gotta tell ya, there is little more depressing than being horribly ill, alone, and in a hotel room. Ugh.
I didn't slepp well last night either, and my stomach is definitely not back to normal. I am REALLY hoping that I feel better soon though.... I have to be at camp at 12:45 for the closing ceremony, and I've been told it can last 2 to 3 hours. And then... I get to drive the 3 hours back home. Fuck.
I just hope the boys had a wonderful time and were able to find some peace and comfort at camp.
Much love...
S
Trying to survive and thrive, through the most difficult time in my life.
Welcome!
So here's the Reader's Digest version for those of you who are new to my blog.... My 39 year old husband, David, was diagnosed with a hideous and deadly cancer in April of '08. We were told he'd likely die in less than 4 months. Obviously, that diagnosis turned us inside out and shook us to the core. At the time, our boys were 12 and 4... can you say 'fucking nightmare'??? I spent the next 14 months being his 24/7 caregiver and advocate... never leaving his side unless it was to get the boys to or from therapy or their cancer support groups. Cancer and the hell that it brings became our universe. And yet, I was able to get myself to a place where I was depending on my faith.... existing on a plane of pure gratitude. I focused my energies on recognizing the blessings that cancer had brought to our lives... yes, there ARE blessings that come with such a dire diagnosis.
Things were good. David miraculously entered remission in April of '09. I was looking forward to the next few months being our 'summer of healing' as a family. And then my world stopped. He left me... left US... on 6 June 2009. And FYI... he told me he was ending our 18 year marriage in a note. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had left me for a 'friend' who also happened to be married. Nice. The next few months are a blur... I descended into a deep, dark depression, and David's vicious treatment of me didn't help. He was running as fast as he could from everything associated with cancer, and that included me... our family, our home and the entire life we had built together. Things went from bad to worse when his cancer returned with a vengeance. He began treatment once again, and I had to dig deep to help him and make things as easy on him as possible. I even offered to have him move home so I could care for him through his treatment. As it turns out, it was a good thing he didn't take me up on that. The hateful way that he treated me during that time would have made caregiving for him an unbearable situation. I KNEW he was dying... nobody else did, because he fed them all kinds of bullshit... but I knew. Because of that, I focused on the boys and made sure they were with their daddy as much as possible.
His final months were a living nightmare... a kind of pain and darkness for which there are no words. No human being, no matter who they are or how they lived their lives, should have to suffer the horrific pain and endless indignities that David did. In spite of everything, I was with him constantly, much to the chagrin of his girlfriend and his mother. 'Too fuckin bad' was my theory. I wanted my boys to see that I NEVER turned my back on their dad. And I didn't. I continued to advocate for him in the hospital... fighting to get him the meds and the specialists he needed. I was there during his final moments of consciousness. I took Reilly to say goodbye to his dad, just before he slipped into that state. I was there when he died. I ID'd his body at the funeral home. I planned his funeral and his Celebration of Life. I placed his ashes in the wall of the Columbarium at the Naval Academy. We had spent half of our lives together, and though I was no longer in love with him, I did those things out of respect for the life that we shared and the family that we created.The 6 months since he died have brought more changes. I struggle daily to untangle the financial disaster he left me, and I'm fighting like hell to keep our home. The boys are now 15 and 7 and trying to learn how to move forward in their lives without their daddy. I had to get a part-time job after spending 15 years as a full-time mother, and I'm doing everything I can to trim the fat so we can afford to stay where we are. My boys NEED the stability and comfort that come with remaining in our home and community, and staying in their schools. To that end, I will fight with every fiber of my soul to ensure that those things happen.My greatest blessing is that I now have an incredible man in my life... a man who is thoughtful and loving, strong and sensitive, hilariously funny, and who loves me just the way I am. He is authentic. He knows who he is and is completely comfortable in his own skin. It certainly doesn't hurt that he's 11 years younger than I am and sexy as hell. :0)Yes, my boys are struggling in many ways... the therapy and support groups continue... and I still have MUCHO 'death business' to handle. That said, I am starting to believe that there might be a happy future ahead... for all of us.The past almost 3 years have been quite an emotional roller coaster, to say the least. Writing has been the most important part of my day, every day, since this journey began. I am once again being put in a position where I have to learn to survive... spiritually, emotionally, physically, financially... you get the picture. My hope is that I can hold on to my faith, find a moment of joy in every day, be the best mother I can possibly be, and hopefully... one day... emerge back into the light.December 2010
Nice. I'm sorry you had "gut". I'll bet some of that was being away from Finn! Anyway, I hope the boys had fun at camp too!! And, HAPPY SUPERBOWL, to anyone who gives a shit. T.
ReplyDeleteis it your regular tummy trouble or the flu? Hope you are feeling better and I can't wait to hear about the boys weekend. I hope they found some comfort and healing...you too!
ReplyDeleteaot
r~
You hate being away from your home and family. This weekend you got the double whammy. At last....Home Sweet Home. I can't wait to hear the Camp details.
ReplyDeleteWe were able to spend your mom's birthday with her. She was in good spirits. I think she enjoyed herself.
Toni ~ I DO give a shiz about the Stupid Bowl. I was happy that "rotten~burger" was a big LOSER!
xoxo to all
AN