About Love....

I am so sorry that I have not posted in months and months! Life really does go on doesn't it? Especially with two sons and all their activities. I have a full life: full-time job, part-time karate instructor, mom...and before you know it, the blog has taken a back seat. Lots of catching up to do. So many things to post about.. dealing with December holidays is one. But today I am going to take a page out of The Immortal Alcoholic's book and "celebrate" Valentine's month with a post.

I just finished writing an article on being the wife of an alcoholic and submitted it unsolicited (fingers crossed that it will be accepted!) to a humor website of all things! In the opening paragraph I talk about my marriage experience as being like putting money in a vending machine and hitting the Snickers button and having a Twix bar come out instead (I don't like Twix bars!). Because when you marry someone you never know what you are going to get! Especially since as the years go by (25 of them in my case) folks change. Sometimes they just morph into a different person, sometimes they leave you for another, sometimes an illness like cancer takes away the one you love and sometimes an illness like alcoholism does. Either way you watch the person you had slip away.

My Valentine's post is about love and is specifically geared towards a conversation with the "co-dependent" crowd. You can look up this term in Wikipedia if you don't really know what it means. During the span of hubby's alcoholism I was constantly afraid that I was going to become a co-dependent. I kept a mental list of "signs that you are co-dependent" and became anxious if I started to exhibit any of those unwholesome characteristics. Of course - silly - the mere fact that I was being this vigilant probably means I wasn't co-dependent but it sure did worry me a lot!

When you are the spouse of an alcoholic who chooses to stay with that alcoholic for whatever reason (I have outlined some of the reasons already in this blog) there are probably gossips here and there who bandy about the co-dependent label for you. Ah well...it is what it is.

One of the things I have not talked about (and which causes me to say a big "suck it" to the "label me as co-dependent" crowd) is hanging in there with your alcoholic until the bitter end because of LOVE (seems appropriate for Valentine's Day!). This is probably a wildly inappropriate thought for the majority of spouses suffering through an alcoholic marriage but it DOES apply to me and my sons.

I loved my husband with a passion. I took traditional marriage vows that promised to stay in sickness and in health and as I truly do believe that alcoholism is a sickness well there you are. In the beginning I stayed in because of the whole "sickness and health" thing but..yeah...it really wore thin in a brutal way which is why divorce is often necessary. I have gone into the legal and practical reasons as to why I did not leave and divorce Hubby. But I have not really gone into the LOVE reasons.

My sons and I had a conference in the oldest one's bedroom one night about what to do with Hubby and Dad. The three of us made a pact to stay in for the long haul with him. Because the alternative was probably to have him die alone in the house and be a mess and be one of those awful stories where he is not found for days etc. And really no one wants to treat someone that they used to love that way. Especially when that person used to love you as well and probably still does somewhere in the deep dark recesses of whatever mind is left. At least the three of us decided that we did not want to treat Hubby and Dad that way.

There were also very brief moments now and then when a flash of the old Hubby and Dad and how he used to be would come through and we would remember how great he was. And there were even more horrible flashes for me when Hubby would suddenly look at me long and hard and deeply and I could see in his eyes the incredible pain and suffering he felt and knew how badly he wanted to die. So many times those eyes would beg me to release him from the hell in some way.

No two alcoholics are alike. Mine was fairly OK as far as that goes; so many more are such dreadful assholes all the time (mine was only an asshole most of the time!). Family has to make decisions based on each unique situation. Sometimes decisions are made because of unhealthy co-dependent reasons. There were many reasons I made mine and one of those was LOVE.

BTW, just because I felt love does not mean I didn't feel hate. But that is for another post.... Happy Late Valentine's Day....survive!

Hubby would be 50 now....

July 22 would have been Hubby's 50th birthday. Even when he was on his last legs, I DID think that he would make it to the 50th birthday mark. Hubby seemed like the lead character in the movie, "Unbreakable" - he sustained horrific accidents and injuries but would somehow pick himself up and brush himself off and keep on going to teach classes. I cannot imagine what his students must have thought about the emaciated hollow soul who still seemed to know EVERYTHING about Biology, Chemistry, and Physics despite all the rest of his brain being gone!

If Hubby had lived, the "birthday celebration" would have been a disaster - an uncomfortable event that would have ultimately ended with him cussing everyone out and going to lie down all day in his dark bedroom. So...I am not going to dwell on that; what I am going to do is imagine what a 50th birthday celebration would have been for Hubby had he not been an alcoholic.

Hubby's 50th Birthday Party:

The invitations would be sent to Hubby's remaining college pals and high school friends. Since he loved grilled foods we would have had lots of steaks and brats. With sautéed onions and mushrooms as well. Corn on the cob. Lots of great British beer. He would have given everyone rides in his vintage British sports car and/or American muscle car. Then we would have all gone swimming. The boys would be playing with all the kids of the other guests and the dog would be having the time of her life. House would look great from all the fixing up that Hubby and I would have done in DIY partnership throughout the years and the bills would all be paid...

Finally a cake and we all sing Happy Birthday. My mother and my sister and her husband and my niece and nephew looking fondly on because they loved Uncle Hubby...he was always the most fun at holidays and other events...

But of course none of this was true. Hubby didn't get to have that birthday, his remaining college and high school friends came to scatter his ashes two months ago, he couldn't stop at one beer, he grew to hate crowds and swimming and actually anything fun, the boys were miserable, the dog skulked away from him in disgust, the house still looks like crap though tens of thousands of dollars later I am improving on this, still drowning in debt from medical bills and above-mentioned house clean-up, my mother and my sister and her husband and my niece and nephew hated Hubby and avoided him like the plague because he ruined holidays and other events..

And so it goes with the alcoholic and addict. Hubby could have been having the time of his life on July 22, 2013. Ah well... I DID wish him a quiet Happy Birthday - because he is at peace and I guess that is all I get to give him this year.

(Re)Learning How to Have Fun

Sorry for the surfeit of posts; this summer has proven to be quite busy and I don't have as much time to reflect and relax as I would wish. Which brings me to my topic today. Living with an alcoholic is a real drag. They are NOT fun folks at all; after all, if they were happy and having fun and enjoying life, they would be alcoholics/addicts, right?

I will say that Hubby and I did not have a very "fun" married life ever. We had it pretty hard primarily due to financial and health woes. No honeymoon, no get-aways to Cancun while doting grandparents cared for the kids, barely even nights out to eat. Right after our marriage we went straight to graduate school which is guaranteed to make you poor (but we were happy there - go figure!) and then I got my first round of cancer and then we had a preemie child and then Hubby had to have congenital heart issues fixed...we spent much of our 25 years actually grinding away just to pay medical bills. Even with insurance, I did an audit of our marriage expenses one time and discovered that we paid over $100,000 worth of medical bills in our 25 year marriage. So...Hubby and I didn't ever really learn to "have fun". We were too busy surviving. By the way - our response to this difficult life was completely different. I am the "if it doesn't kill you then it makes you stronger" type of person and Hubby was the "every bad happens to me/us and we can never win and everything sucks" type of person. Which was a big contributing factor to his alcoholism, I believe.

One of the reasons I have not written is because my sons and I went to Disney World and Florida for two weeks! Quite the experience for us! During the first two days the three of us competed in an international karate tournament (and won some awards!)

After that was done, we woke up the next morning completely unable to determine what to do! Here we were at Disney World - the most fun place in the universe supposedly! And we had 4 days worth of tickets to all the parks! And yet - the three of us were at a total loss where to start! The boys wanted to sleep in more so I told them, "You stay here. I will go get breakfast and sit here with these brochures and figure out how to have fun!" When I came back from breakfast, I had a "fun plan" at least and as we started going to parks and seeing things and riding rides...it gradually dawned on us that we were having fun! Really - honestly - for the first time in our lives!

We spent the entire time slightly bemused. The idea of having not a care in the world and just enjoying pleasurable things was amazing but a bit discomfiting as well. When we returned, we all agreed that THIS was what a VACATION was supposed to be!

When life with your alcoholic becomes an utter and complete drag, don't forget to have fun. You may have to go to Disney World; if so - then GO! I did not realize this and the boys and I have spent too many years not having any fun. We have got a lot of catching up to do! And it is going to be...FUN!

So do I feel better?

Our family and friends scattered Hubby's ashes a couple of weeks ago. It went well; the weather cooperated and some surprise folks I didn't expect but were pleased to see came tor the event.

And now I get the inevitable question:  "So, do you feel better now that you have scattered his ashes?" My sons get this question as well (which I find outrageously rude for folks to ask them - maybe not the older son but the younger one definitely). Others frame the question to reflect the answer they WANT to hear, "So, I bet you feel a great sense of closure now."

Well...uh...no...  I cannot imagine feeling a "sense of closure" about ANYONE who has been a significant part of your life whether in a good way or in a bad way.  I mean, my own father died of cancer when I was 18 years old.  Do I feel a "sense of closure" about this?  No - my relationship with my father continues even though he has been gone over 30 years.  Becaus who I am and what I am is because of who he was and what he was.  And the conversation with him continues to this day....

As for a sense of closure after the death of an alcoholic?  Well, yes, actually there was a "sense of closure" the day Hubby died.  Because suddenly the surreal nightmarish reality of my life with him was over.  Quick as a switch, I went from one reality to another one.  This was most aptly brought home to me the first night after he died.  I had slept in the guest room for several months - giving up my side of the very comfortable and luxurious king size bed we had always shared for the narrow and uncomfortable day bed in the guest room. Because one cannot sleep with an end-stage alcoholic.  They moan and groan and thrash around a bunch. And they get up all the time and stumble around aimlessly.  It was actually this in-the-night stumbling and crashing about that killed Hubby.  He apparently stumbled and fell over and hit his head on the floor and died of a skull fracture.

So, that first night after his death - me in the quiet house (my sons asleep and my Mother asleep in the guest room - poor woman on that uncomfortable day bed!) - and I go into my bedroom and lay down again after all those months on my side of that king size bed ...and that was the new reality. Was that a "sense of closure"?  I guess I "closed the door" on the guest bedroom and slept in my bedroom.  Life was  totally different.

What I DO acknowledge is that since the scattering of Hubby's ashes, I am no longer on the brink of tears and at the edge of my nerves anymore.  So, it helped...yes, it helped...

My father died of pancreatic cancer.  As a general rule a person gets that particular cancer diagnosis and then lingers for quite a while, slowly and painfully dying (think Michael Landon and Patrick Swayze) while their loved ones care for them, take them to endless doctors, in and out of treatment...an exhausting juggernaut for all.  And then that person dies and suddenly that particular juggernaut ends.  It is just pulled away so quickly.  A vacuum almost.

A friend of mine whose husband died just a few days after Hubby did had that experience. A year of traveling back and forth to hospitals, hospices, specialists...special diets, pills, emergency rooms.  I did not have that experience with my father - he was diagnosed and 3 weeks later was dead.  But I imagine that my experience with Hubby was very much like the more typical experience with a loved one with a terminal illness that my friend and fellow widow (ugh....as an aside, do you know that there is actually a Widows Association?  I just cannot imagine wanting to join this!) had.  Because often cancer is a terminal illness.  And alcoholism is definitely a terminal illness.

The "closure" happens immediately - because the door is slammed shut!

So - no, I did not feel a "sense of closure."  I imagine that some folks there - like Hubby's estranged family members who came - may have felt a "Whew! Now THAT'S over!" sort of relief which they may describe as a sense of closure.  Even my boys may have felt that - they haven't told me; don't want to talk about it.  But I don't feel that because Hubby was so much a part of my life for so long.  And for about 20 of those 26 years, he was a GOOD part of my life.  And the conversation with him will be ongoing...

My greatest friend said something to me one day that I found appropriate.  I was bemoaning the fact that my car had black brake dust on the wheels and I commented that Hubby would be so upset about this and would have told me that he would clean it off for me right away because it is so harmful to the wheel metal and that I needed to "listen" to Hubby and go get that cleaned.  And she said that she often felt that way about her dead father; she hears him telling her what she needs to do.  And she said, "Sometimes you just have to tell them to 'shut up'!"

So...the conversation will continue but sometimes I will just have to tell Hubby to 'shut up'.

Hubby's final resting place - a beautiful state park with lots of dinosaur tracks - he would have loved it!


   

Here was the poem I recited - it is good for an alcoholic (who was so sad and so tormented!) and also for someone who was not religious at all:

SPELL OF SLEEP

Let him be safe in sleep

As leaves folded together

As young birds under wings

As the unopened flower.

Let him be hidden in sleep

As islands under rain,

As mountains within their clouds,

As hills in the mantle of dusk.

Let him be free in sleep

As the flowing tides of the sea,

As the travelling wind on the moor,

As the journeying stars in space.

Let him be upheld in sleep

As a cloud at rest on the air,

As a sea-wrack under the waves

When the flowing tide covers all

And the shells’ delicate lives

Open on the sea-floor.

Let him be healed in sleep

In the quiet waters of the night

In the mirroring pool of dreams

Where memory returns in peace,

Where the troubled spirit grows wise

And the heart is comforted.

---Kathleen Raine (20th century British poet)

My husband is healed and at peace in sleep. 

Thoughts on upcoming scattering of Hubby's ashes

So in a couple of days we will at last go and scatter Hubby's ashes. I have mentioned before that Hubby was essentially an atheist which has made this a tough thing because I could not follow the basic prescriptions that the church offers - had to go it alone.

Since Hubby so loved the outdoors and evolution (his masters was in Ecology, Ethology and Evolution at the University of Illinois) we are doing this at a state park that features beautiful creeks and riverbeds and lots and lots of dinosaur tracks. I have not asked permission to do this; it is my understanding that it is perfectly legal to scatter ashes wherever. But we shall all try to be unobtrusive. I can imagine that the sight of someone scattering ashes might be a wee bit disconcerting to those who have just come for a family picnic!

I was inspired to separate Hubby's ashes into separate little (fit in the palm of your hand) jars so folks could palm them unobtrusively and wander about scattering where one sees fit. So I had to do this setup this past weekend. Do you have any idea how many ashes there are? Good grief - I opened the box and pulled out a gallon-sized baggy of them! Then it was a dilemma of how to get these all into the little jars (that I had decorated with Hubby's name - yes, I am a veritable "Martha Stewart" of cremation, I guess!) I ended up going out to Hubby's garage and grabbing a funnel of his (he would have found this terribly amusing and quite frankly, by this time I was getting a bit tickled myself!) And it was pretty messy - I keep spilling in the sink and then cleaning them all up with the hand technique your Mother teaches you to clear up crumbs at the table... and putting the ashes back in the bottle. All the while apologizing out loud to Hubby while laughing ever more hysterically because I could just imagine what this would look like as a YouTube video! Good thing I had locked myself in my bedroom/bathroom because my sons would have thought Mommy had gone insane.

You know, Hubby had a very bizarre sense of humor; I think he would have heartily appreciated all this. And now my little "Martha Macabre Stewart" jars of ashes are nestled in a tasteful basket (of course!) and I am ready to go.

And the "invitations" have been distributed and folks have RSVP'd. And the after event meal is taken care of. And everyone has directions to this rather remote park and to the proper location of this rather remote park. So everything is ready, right?

Uh-unh - I am NOT ready. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. Mainly because a bunch of Hubby's college friends and family are coming and they really don't know what happened to him and they really don't quite believe it ("Are you SURE he was an alcoholic? I mean, I talked with him on the phone all the time and he never SEEMED like an alcoholic!") and they are all vaguely distrustful and accusing in this way as if somehow >I< failed Hubby and am making it all up to cover my tracks..... And they are coming to send Hubby off in style and all I want to do is crawl under a rock somewhere.

I wish they would chat with my sons - they would set everyone straight. Because WE KNOW. But somehow I have to make this all about the positive distant past. And not about the negative recent past. So I have to stuff down my anger. And control my sadness. Because like Martha Stewart, I AM the hostess of this SCATTERING EVENT and I must be a good hostess.

And it is going to take me to a personal hell the likes of which I have not experienced before. I hope - like the ashes and funnel near fiasco - that it triggers humor...but then I must not laugh....

Advice - take it or leave it

I realize that though I started this blog as a helpful resource, I don't think I have given any helpful advice yet. So today's post is a bit of housecleaning. This "laundry list" contains the seeds of future expanded posts but for today, the existence of these nuggets of advice will have to be enough. These are in no particular order.

1. Know when to stay and/or when to "get out". I will do an expanded post later on the many reasons why I did not divorce Hubby once it became obvious what the problem was and once he became - basically - unfit to live with. The core advice - however - is to "go with your gut on this one". You will know what is the correct decision. And depending on what you choose to do, don't let folks slap that "co-dependent" label on you if you stay - there is staying because of what your gut and heart is telling you and then there is staying because you are co-dependent. One is a psychological issue and one is not. You may stay for practical reasons. There WILL come a time when you will have to decide whether to "fish or cut bait" and that is when extended medical issues or hospital stays come into play. Because the hospital bills will start piling up and depending on what state you live in and its marriage and divorce laws, you will be half-responsible for them. This is essentially what happened with Hubby and what - in many ways - prevented a divorce. We were in such dreadful medical debt that I had no money to spare to hire a lawyer and with my state's punitive divorce laws, I would have had to pay all those bills anyway as the only partner who was able to earn a living. And I would have had to pay alimony because he was "unemployable." Really - quite a scary scenario - me and the boys on food stamps while alcoholic Hubby lived high on the hog. Unh-unh! When Hubby died, the dynamic changed because the bills became part of his estate claims. Since Hubby left no estate (cuz he was unemployed and broke), the medical institutions could claim all that they wanted but there was no money to claim against. So - for the most part - those bills went away.

2. If you have children - how much to discuss with them; how honest to be? Much of that depends on your particular situation, your children's ages and their personalities. You have to tell them SOMETHING for a variety of reasons: Your kids need to know that it is not their fault especially since addicts blame everyone else for their problems. Believe me, I catch myself agonizing a lot over whether I should have been more loving, more understanding, more nurturing... and then I have to stop and remind myself that I was not the problem and that I did all I could. Your children also need to be aware of (without scaring the heck out of them) that this is a DISEASE that their parent has and that it is - unfortunately - a disease and tendency that can be genetic. They need to learn early and learn that they must be particularly wise in their choices regarding drugs and alcohol and also must be self-aware enough to know if something is 'wrong enough' that they may need therapy and that it is ok to need therapy.

3. Finally [for now] - do not neglect your own health and the health of your kids (and/or pets). Try not to constantly turn to food and TV and comfy couches for your comfort and sustenance (though you will need to do a bit of that). Turn to exercise of some sort: long walks and hikes, long bike rides, yoga, martial arts. Watch your diet and your kids' diets. Cook healthy meals together - grow a garden and eat from that garden. I really cannot recommend martial arts enough - a good karate class will really make things right or if you want something less physically demanding than karate but with great integrity, then try aikido. Avoid "McDojos" - these tend to be (but not always) the ones in strip malls usually with a franchise symbol by the name - basically, a McDojo costs a whole lot, gives you a black belt in two years (which is worthless) and give you no spiritual, physical, or self-defense benefit. (oh...I will have a LOOONGGGG entry on martial arts - you can bet on it!)

There some basic advice - so you get your money's worth here! ;-)