jmgoyder

wings and things

Godzilla

It is the beginning of my third day of being Godzilla since my tranformation on Sunday night and I am gaining a whole new perspective from my great height. One of the interesting things I’ve realized is that I have never been the boss here. It has been an old-fashioned sort of marriage with Anthony making all of the decisions to do with the house, garden, farm etc. Mostly this was fine with me and I deferred to him because (a) he was an older man; (b) I married into an already established home; and (c) I didn’t mind or care about the garden and house decisions.

Don’t get me wrong. Ants was never bossy or overbearing; it’s just that as a retired dairy farmer, he naturally took responsibility for all the home stuff and I went out to work and pursued my academic career. But now, when I look back, I see that I did not make any of the decisions. He did. For example, I couldn’t simply ring up and get someone to help us repair a pump or a fence or an electrical fault. This was always Anthony’s territory. Occasionally this would drive me mad and we would argue, but not often. Usually I would just give up and leave it to him.

On the other hand, we did make some decisions together – a new mirror, carpet, a car, new tiles for the kitchen, Christmas presents for Ming, and we had enormous fun doing so, but the final word was always Anthony’s. He was the boss. I was under the thumb, but the thing is, you see, I didn’t mind and anyway I was preoccupied with my teaching job and my writing.

As his health began to deteriorate dramatically (nearly 5 years ago), I wanted to buy a ride-on lawnmower to make it easier but he wouldn’t let me and that was that. I wanted to get reticulation but he wouldn’t let me and that was that. Many of my female friends were amazed at my lack of assertiveness and autonomy; after all Anthony was never dictatorial or bullying or nasty – it’s just that the power was his from the outset I guess and so I have never felt any sense of ownership in terms of this home that I love, this farm that I love. In fact all of my toiletries are still in a travel bag under the sink in the bathroom; I have never unpacked them!

Blip ahead to now (8 months since Ants went into the nursing lodge and 7 months since Ming’s scoliosis operation), the dynamics shifted subteley and I found myself under someone else’s thumb – Ming’s. Initially, I was so proud of him for taking on this role of ‘man of the house’, and he took the reins of control with alacrity. But several weeks ago, this arrangement began to fall apart – his bossiness exhausted me, and the bossier he became the more defeated I became. To top it off, my sorrow about Anthony kept clashing with Ming’s anger about Anthony and we began to avoid each other.

Of course there is a lot more to this but on Sunday it all came to a head and I finally realized I was actually being bullied, and I drew the line and took back a control that I never had in the first place. For a kid who is unfamiliar with the word ‘No’ this has been an interesting transition, so we are both experiencing brand new roles and it is rather wonderful! I love being the boss and today I have a lawnmowing man and his son out here getting the place back into shape and teaching Ming how to do stuff and I orchestrated it, I made the decision – me!

Even Godfrey, the Godzilla of ganderdom, has a new respect for me. Yeeha!

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Enough is enough

I have been struggling to write about something for a couple of days because, despite the fact that I am fine with being honest and open about stuff in this blog, on Sunday our family situation became, for me, unbearable and I gave up. I couldn’t write about it except metaphorically (the ‘despair’ post for eg.)

That’s what happens, I think, when you have been enoughed enough – ha! But, on Sunday night, I realized that being this cringing wimp wasn’t helping so I gave up giving up and got angry instead.

I became Godzilla and it was very satisfying! I said NO, I said I am the boss, not you, I said enough is enough.

The teenager from hell suddenly reverted to his usual angelic personality and it has now lasted 48 hours. There is hope.

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Gramophone glee

I finally took delivery of the gramophone I bought for Anthony a while ago so yesterday I met my mother and sister-in-law at the nursing lodge and we cranked it up. Anthony was invisibly thrilled – ha – but it was definitely a success. It just fits into the cupboard in his room so that’s good because now, whenever I go in, I can bring it out and put it on.

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It’s nearly yesterday!

In just a few minutes, Today will become Yesterday and Tomorrow will take over.

Good! I have fallen into the most beautiful friendship with Tomorrow because Tomorrow is so wise, patient and extraordinarily constant.

Today and Yesterday have been impossibly difficult, lately so I have reminded them that Tomorrow will always be my favourite day – always.

Gotta go – Tomorrow is just about to arrive. Yeeha!

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This odd little family

I love this odd  little family of mine – the three of us – Anthony, Ming and me.

Ants is 76 and in a nursing lodge due to advanced Parkinson’s and cancer, and Ming is 18 and suffering a disease called adolescence.

I’m kind of in the middle at 50ish.  I love them both equally but sometimes it’s almost as if I have to make a choice about who needs to be prioritized. Do I privilege my husband or my son?

That is a very good question.

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‘Fluxuation’ versus ‘fluctuation’

Hello

Okay, so in my previous post, I used the word ‘fluxuation’ instead of the word ‘fluctuation’. The link below proves that I was, indeed, incorrect.

http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_definition_of_fluxuation

I just received a phonecall from a friend who alerted me to my spelling error, so I went back to the post and was just about to correct this until I realized that, in fact, ‘fluxuation’ is a much better word because it implies flux which is what I was trying to convey. Yes, I am quite sure now that I intended to use ‘fluxuation’ so I will now ring my friend back and tell her that I was being incredibly clever and that she mustn’t be afraid of neologisms and extraordinarily brilliant metaphorical linguistics.

Actually I did make a spelling error. Whoops!

Lots of love

Fluxy

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Concertina conversations

Anthony’s increasing confusion confuses me! This afternoon, our conversation fluxuated between ordinary and bizarre on a minute-by-minute basis. Ming and I were there for a couple of hours and these were some of the things Anthony said:

“So where are we all sleeping tonight?”

“E. came to see me today.”

“No, I don’t hallucinate at night. I get locked up and nobody is here.”

“Don’t bring me any more of these cakes because I can’t stop eating them.”

“Where will you be tonight?”

“Where do you live now?”

“I’ll just have a tiny red wine, Jules, that whole glass yesterday did me in.”

The reason I get confused is that a totally lucid sentence can be followed immediately by a totally wacky sentence, then some mumby jumbly sentences, then a lucid sentence, then another wacky sentence and on and on it goes. I find it difficult to keep up, and to know when to go with the flow or contradict Anthony (for example to reassure him he is not locked up and there are plenty of staff around all night).

I don’t feel tragified by this because we had a good time with Ants and, even though he can’t smile or laugh properly, Ming did lighten the mood with his antics (doing a dance with one of Anthony’s walking sticks, kissing Anthony sloppily on the nose, being cheeky to the nurses and to my mother when she arrived to partake in the red wine session.)

Leaving to go home is always hard. After I kissed and hugged him goodbye, he said:

“Couldn’t we try me coming home for the night?”

“Where are you going now?”

“Do you still live at Bythorne?”

“I love you.”

Concertina conversations!

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Love story 105 – Falling

My tentative plan for today was to pick Ants up and take him out for lunch or for a drive. It was to be a bit of an experiment to see if I could do it and it filled me with dread because he is often so immobile that am scared that he will fall and I won’t be able to pick him up, as happened numerous times when he was still here at home.

I rang him to confirm and, as usual, I had to let the phone ring out twice before he managed to answer it. “Jules,” he said, “Jules, Jules, Jules, Jules….” Then there was silence even though he was still on the phone. I yelled into my own phone, “Ants! What’s wrong?” but he said nothing. Nothing. This terrified me. Was he upset?

So I hung up and dialled the nurses and told the one who answered the phone that something was wrong with Anthony. She said she would go and check. A few seconds later, I rang him again and this time he spoke a bit more and told me he had had a fall. He was a bit incoherent and confused except he did remember our lunch date. “I don’t think it’s a good idea now, Ants,” I said, and he agreed. He sounded quite shaken. I could hear the nurse in the background which was comforting.

Ants is falling more and more often because when he is mobile, he races and forgets his walker and, bang, down he goes. Last year, pre-nursing lodge, this kept happening and one of his worst falls happened when I went up to the local shop for something and begged him not to move from his chair. I was only gone 10 minutes but when I got back I discovered him lying prone and twisted in our little vegetable patch. He looked dead and I got a terrible fright. It took me nearly half an hour to get him up onto his feet and, though grazed and bleeding from his face and knees, he was otherwise uninjured. It then took another half an hour to get him back into the house because his legs weren’t working.

Mobility for people with Parkinson’s Disease is a strange and unpredictable thing. The typical leaning over posture doesn’t help with gravity. When Anthony is mobile, he almost runs; when he is immobile (which is most of the time now) he can hardly even move one foot after the other without assistance.

I think our days of going out to lunch are well and truly over, and were over long ago, but Anthony keeps hoping and I keep wishing.

And he keeps falling.

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Love story 104 – My beautiful husband

I finally got hold of Anthony on the phone this afternoon, and again this evening, and he was fine that Ming and I didn’t visit today. I told him about the counselling session and how Ming’s rage was against his illness, not him and he understood.

It is 32 years since I fell in love with him and nearly 20 since we got married and produced the beautiful brat. It has definitely been an interesting relationship which all three of us recognize, and the heartbreaking stuff is relatively recent. No – that isn’t quite accurate but at the moment I can’t talk about that stuff.

Anthony was always the absolute life of the party, the loudest laugher, a friend to everyone who came to visit. As a teenager, I was half appalled and half in awe of his amazing, charismatic presence. His ability to embrace friends and relatives in his big muscly arms. I miss those days so much and Ming loves to hear about an Anthony he never knew.

My beautiful, patient, resilient, suffering husband. Missing him is like being smashed in the face with my own clenched sobs over and over and over again.

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Good questions!

When do you last remember being a kid?

Today, when the counsellor asked Ming this question he had to think for a long moment before admitting that it was in primary school – seven years ago.

When do you last remember having a dad?

The answer was the same – primary school. Ming remembers Anthony picking him up every day when I was at work. It was Ming’s first year in high school when Anthony’s health began to deteriorate dramatically.

Of course these questions were asked after Ming and I had already divulged various details about Anthony’s illnesses, my grief and Ming’s anger. I had shed tears about Anthony, Ming had explained his wanting to be in control and we had laughed a lot. The counsellor was surprised by our mutual willingness to seek help. She said that usually one person is willing and the other reluctant. Ming immediately said, “I just want to fix our relationship.” More laughter.

It was also mentioned that Ming and I are more like siblings or partners than a mother and son – yes. It was good, it was great, it was exhausting so we came straight home instead of going to see Anthony because he is at the heart of the conflict between Ming and me and it seemed best to take our lighter selves home rather than risk a visit that would make Ming heavy with anger and me with sadness. Selfish? Yes. I have already tried to ring Ants but no answer so I guess he has been seated out in the sun which he loves. When I do get hold of him I will tell him about the appointment and reassure him that I will be in tomorrow for a red wine.

On the way home Ming asked his own good question:

Why didn’t the counsellor give us the answer to our predicament?

“That’s next week,” I said, laughing my head off!

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