copyright 2017 Chris Smith All rights reserved.
"You don't know me nor have you spent any time with me that would give you any insight as to my level of consciousness...so go fuck yourself."
After we left the Doc's Mom only threw up a few times that day. The next day it took her twelve hours to pee. I'd never been so happy to hear the sound of her peeing in my whole life! It was like she'd won a medal or something!
Now if we could get the bowels moving as well. The next few days she started sleeping better as well, which was a godsend for Dad. He and I were so tired. These days we always seemed to be running on fumes. This was the longest endurance race I'd ever been in. I think it was the same for Dad.
It wasn't only physical endurance. This was endurance of the heart and soul. This was the endurance of what we were willing to do, and how far we would go for our beliefs and our love in Mom. This was where you either decide to put it all on the line and take the reins or hand it over to someone else to figure out. This was who we were, at the core of our beings. This was what family meant to us.
We were living the famous line in the movie Field of Dreams, "Go the distance."
Yeah, that's what we were trying to do. But it was running us right into the ground on all fronts.
The Hospice social worker, Sam, came up to meet us and see if there was anything she could do to help. Mom was asleep so we sat outside in the morning sunlight.
"How are you guys doing?" Sam asked.
"We're hanging in there," Dad said.
"It's important to let people know the areas you need help. So you're not carrying everything by yourself," Sam said.
"My daughter is putting together a list that we're going to put up online for those that want to help," Dad said.
"That's a great idea. So what can I do to help you? Do you need me to call people for you?" Sam asked.
"I don't think so. We have everyone's email so once we have the list ready we'll send out an email," Dad said.
I was ashamed that we were going to admit we needed help from the outside world. If we told people, it meant we were opening up. There was a history of opening up in the past that didn't end well, mostly for us. Opening up with people meant judgment. I wasn't sure we could take any judgment right now. The foreclosure ("Is The Juice Worth The Squeeze?" Book 1) had done us in on two fronts; asking for help and having people judge us.
It was why I never talked to anyone or opened up about the reality of my life. A lesson I had learned early in my life. As hard as it was, it was better all around not to let people in. It was safer for me not to reach for warmth in belonging to the group. Belonging equaled pain. Belonging came with conditions to outsiders like us.
When people asked how I was I gave the tried and true, "I'm fine."
Generally they didn't care enough to dig any further.
Why open up?
So you can judge me?
So you can sit on your high horse and give me lectures about how I'm fucking up my life?
Yeah, sign me up for that program, like A.S.A.P. I'd learned to apply the sixty foot rule to most people. It was the standard operating procedure. Never open up. Not ever.
Besides most of the people who came with their judgment had never been through our trials. They didn't know what it was like to have their lives ripped out from under them. They didn't know the strength and sheer insanity it took to reach for Dreams. The only thing they knew was what it was like to sit back in their "safe" worlds and judge everyone else on the playing field. You know, the ones who were actually putting it all on the line.
The world was full of hypocrites. Funny how we cheer for the underdogs, the "David and Goliath" stories, and the diamonds in the rough. But only when it's safe for us and after they've proven themselves. Sometimes even then, we stand off to the side, in judgment and condemnation. Sometimes even then, we burn them at the stake and kill them off. God help the ones who makes us question our standards and who push us against the known realms of possibility.
Now we were going to admit, yet again, that we needed help. It was the worst feeling ever. I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I would rather suffer in silence than admit the truth about what was going on with us financially.
Juice Day 77
3 leaves collard greens
4 leaves napa cabbage
8 leaves of beet greens
1 ½ stalks of celery
"If you're not in the arena also getting your ass kicked, I'm not interested in your feedback."
American Scholar, Author, Public Speaker
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A HARD RUN INTO HELL Book 4 (EDITING) is the juice worth the squeeze seriesNon-Fiction
I was standing in Hell, burning. I looked over to see my Dad, standing right next to me. He was burning too. We had brought my Mom home from the hospital and care facility, after being diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer and decided not to do chemo, ag...