Homemaker Spy Log

This has been on my mind a lot.  No, I'm not addicted; never used it, never will.  But things are a little different when you are living with the fact that you have a child who is addicted to .....heroin. All the talk in the world about don't do drugs didn't make a difference.  The DARE program didn't make a difference.  As a parent I feel like a complete and total failure, I did not make a difference. I cannot wrap my head around the fact that, for lack of a better terminology, I have a good daughter and a bad daughter. I live every day wondering, as I'm sure so many parents in my shoes do, "Is this they day I get the call? or, the knock on the door?"  Is this the day I find out if Hayley is dead? It has been over five years of manipulation, lies, stealing, police calls, social service intervention, school interventions.   When she first left home I prayed nothing would happen until she was over 18.  Thankfully, nothing did that I know abo...

      I haven't written about dad's actual death yet, it still hurts too much and I fear the tears would never stop.      Over the last few months mom has gone on a spree, giving away and donating things they've collected over the 50 plus years of marriage.  I don't think she realized just how much 'stuff' they had.        Dad was a picture taker.  It seems like he was always getting his camera out.  Growing up it seems that he was always taking the same group picture, the same photo of a family dinner, the same photo of holidays.  The same faces, the same Christmas tree, the same Thanksgiving table.  What I didn't realize until after he was gone and mom started going through boxes upon boxes of these pictures was that he was documenting the history of our family.  Our lives.        My throat gets tight and my eyes well with tears thinking about how our...

     Tonight was dinner alone night.  Hubby had a late meeting which actually ran later than he'd anticipated.  Well, with two dogs and two cats one is never really alone but I digress.  He missed out on a fabulous dinner: baked potato ( if you're Dan Quail that would be 'potatoe', and most of you are likely to young to get that), salad, and a rather nicely done steak.  By nicely done I mean pink in the middle.  After 49 years I believe I've finally discovered the trick to cooking a nice steak on the cook top.  Please let me know if you'd like to know the trick.  I'd rather share it with you than let you spend 49 years trying to figure it out.      I though about single people eating dinner alone which turned my thoughts to my mom.  I dislike the thought of her eating alone every night.  I wonder if she actually eats, alone or otherwise. Loneliness is just this great big well that sucks you down. ...

The bridal shower was on Saturday so I decided to spend Friday night with Mom and then we could drive down together, saving me tons of driving on Saturday. Mom and I had decided to make my brother of photo album for his birthday.  I often tease Mark that every picture of him seems to have a plane, train, tank, or boat in the background.  When I got to Mom's house Friday afternoon I sat down to go through years and years of pictures for his album. Along the way I pulled out years and years of pictures of him along with Taylor and Hayley.  Many hours of reminiscing later, I had more than enough pictures of Mark to fill several albums and covering many decades. Taking a break Mom and I had dinner at Mike O'Shays.  She told me she was thinking about selling the house and moving into a senior living community (which I think she should).  I can see how incredibly lost she is and can't seem to get herself together.  I would think that's pretty normal only 3 ...

"In one sense there is no death. The life of a soul on earth lasts beyond departure. You will always feel that life touching yours, that voice speaking to you. He/She lives on in your life and in the lives of all others that knew him/her."      - Angelo Patri      Visiting with mom and dad yesterday.  I ran over to the DMV for mom to pick up her tags for her car.  I was pleasantly surprised they didn't hassle me about it and that it only took about 15 minutes.  Longmont still has many 'small town' qualities about it that I miss.      Dad is having more dizzy spells with are more severe and lasting longer.  He dropped a glass of water that I managed to catch.  He passed out several times during lunch as well.        Taylor called while mom was making lunch and she and I chatted for a while and then she talked with dad - who of course made out like 'except for the dizzy spell...

 I was outside earlier today and noticed a good two dozen robins twittering about. This was rather strange as two days ago it barely got above freezing. Helping my mom out with dad, or, basically just being company and letting her get out of the house so she doesn't go stir crazy reminded me of when the girls were little.   While I was many states away when I had my first child, I remember clearly what a difference it made for me to have my parents in my life and after the birth of my second child how much it helped me on the days mom came over to 'not be alone'.   I felt that distinctly a few days ago.  I wondered if mom felt the same way.  Does it help to not be alone? I can't imagine how many things she has to deal with on a 'today' basis as well as the 'after' basis.  I had asked her to mail something for me (since post boxes seem semi-nonexistent where I live).  She noticed my return address labels and really liked them....

It's amazing how something so simple becomes universally complicated when it involves HR. Example: me wanting to request a leave of absence from work to help my parents out while dad is in his final stages of life. Complication: HR rep telling me this doesn't qualify for FMLA and insinuating I may not have a job if I continue to take time off. Not only did HR person not answer my questions, she then told me I should call our mental health hotline.  Uhm, excuse me?  First off, your degree is in PHOTOgraphy, not PSYCHOlogy.  Second, read FMLA.  I've read it several times and assisting in the care of an ailing parent is listed.  No, you don't get to count my mother as she is in her mid seventies, but thanks for asking. I then called my touch stone, Lester Lou, and cried yet again on her shoulders.  Decided that I should let my direct supervisor know.  Made that call only to receive yet another dig about it being start week, but they're handling it. ...