One Last Visit
Not too long after my mother moved back to Michigan, she started calling to ask when I was going to come up for a visit. Umm, I was still reeling from what had happened when she lived here, then Ron started acting strange; I was in no mood to travel up there for a visit. Especially after I found out she cut me out of the will. I was her only living child and she leaves everything to all my cousins? Figures. That is something she would do to try and manipulate me to do what she wanted me to do. Well, I didn’t need her money and I wasn’t going to play that game any longer. But she did tell me that she left me on as the beneficiary of her life insurance policy.
About a year after she had moved back to Michigan, she called me to talk, sounding like she was trying to apologize, in her own way, for what had happened between us. She said she loved me; I told her I loved her too and that was the last time I ever talked to my mother.
Later that year, in December, I got a call from my cousin saying my mother was very ill and may not make it much longer, so if I wanted to see her one last time, I better get up there. It would have to be in the middle of winter, and I would have to take time off work to go up to see her. This has happened so many times before where she would be so ill that it was thought she wouldn’t make it, but miraculously, every time, she would make a full recovery. Plus, the doctors could never find anything wrong with her.
This time may be a little different; however since she had been in Hospice since the end of summer. I was planning my trip when the decision was taken out of my hands.
All Good Dogs Go To Heaven (Part 1)
On the Saturday before Christmas, when I got home from an afternoon appointment, Ron called me into his bathroom and there was our dog Bosley on the floor having a seizure. I tried calling vets around us, but either they were closed for the day or weren’t taking any more patients. I finally found an open Emergency Vet Hospital open about 45 minutes away. We wrapped him in a towel, put him on my lap in the car, and drove to the hospital as fast as we could. I was so scared that he would die in my lap before we even got there.
When we arrived, the attending veterinarian did not give him a good prognosis, but we were hopeful. We left him there overnight for treatment. The next day, the vet called to say that Bosley was stable, but he was not doing very well. We could either have him put down then or pick him up and bring him home. We brought him home. If he needed to move on, we wanted him to be home where our regular vet would come to our house and do it there where he would be comfortable.
The first few weeks were so tough, he acted like he had a stroke on his right side. We put him in the doggy bed on the sofa where I stayed with him 24/7. Over the weeks, with our help and therapy, Bosley started to walk again on his own, although a bit wobbly on his left side. We thought we were over the hump, and he would be with us for a little longer, albeit somewhat fragile.
By the middle of February though he started going downhill again, so we took him to the vet. He was diagnosed with kidney failure, which was the cause of his stroke. We were heartbroken. Bosley didn’t have many days left. So, we brought him home to love him for a couple of more days before our vet came to our home to send him on.
Ron’s Birthday Present
I was so busy with Bosley’s rehabilitation; I barely registered the fact that my mother had died. And she had died on Ron’s Birthday. Talking with my cousin, she was doing better from her recent illness (I knew it!) and she had just finished lunch and playing cards with other residents of the facility when she went to lie down to take a nap. She never woke up. We discussed that they were going to cremate her and then hold the memorial and burial in the Spring. To me, it was just another obligation to throw on the pile of nonsense to do in my life.
A New Puppy
During one of the times that things were going well between Ron and me, we decided to get a new puppy which he bought for my birthday. She was only four months old and was a special needs puppy. She had a genetic condition of being unable to swallow properly so she was on a diet of blended food that formed into a gelatin block. I would have to make it and hand-feed her myself, which is not that big of a deal, it was all fairly easy.
However, she was a holy terror. She would bark this high-pitched bark that would ring your ears and go right through you. She would give me such a headache. She would bite, she would chew, and she pee-ed and poo-ed in the house. It was utter chaos. She is also very stubborn, so training her has been a big challenge.
The Memorial
The trip up to Michigan for my mother’s memorial was a nightmare. We had to drive and bring both dogs. We didn’t want to leave them with anyone. Jack could take a turn for the worse and die any minute and Morgan was so wild, I would feel bad for anyone we left her with. Plus, she needed her special food and being hand fed.
All Good Dogs Go to Heaven (Part 2)
Jack was always our baby. We rescued him over 11 years ago as a puppy. He did have his issues, but we learned his triggers and loved him unconditionally. About two years previously, he was diagnosed with congenital heart failure, which is a common illness for Cavalier King Charles Spaniels. We treated him with medication for the first year and he seemed to be fine, but then he started retaining fluid that we needed to have removed by syringe at the vet. It started off every few weeks, but towards the end, we needed to take him every week. He was such a trooper. He actually enjoyed going to the vet because he got so much loving and peanut butter while they drained the fluid from his abdomen.
The End of an Era
If you read my previous post The Possession: Obsession, you pretty much know where we left off with my marriage. It was not getting any better. When I attempted to talk with Ron about this or about moving out, he would accuse me of not trying to make things better. No, I told him, you are not trying. I am staying, but nothing is changing, and I don’t want to be here any longer. I have grown to dislike this man whom I have loved for two decades. I am so mad at him sometimes that I want to punch and kick him. To hurt him as much as he has hurt me. I thought I finally found someone that I liked being around, trusted, and who accepted me for who I was. But he has done so much damage over the last year and a half, that I don’t trust him and definitely do not like being around him any longer.
The final straw was the night after our last big fight, Morgan was acting up with Ron after I had gone to bed. I could tell he was getting angry and frustrated with her antics when I heard him say, it was a big mistake that we even got her. I got out of bed and said, “Don’t worry, we will both be out of your hair shortly.” The next thing I heard out of his mouth was “Not soon enough.”
That was it! I was done playing these games. I was out of there as soon as possible. When Ron realized how mad I was he said he was just “kidding”. Kidding or not you don’t say something like that to someone you supposedly love. He begged me to stay and give him one more chance. I told him that I had given him until Jack passed. Well, Jack has passed a few months ago and still, nothing has changed. Of course, after a big fight, things would get better, and I would get hopeful again. Then Ron would do something horrid again and I would be kicking myself for not leaving. I don’t make threats lightly to get someone to do something I want them to do. When I say something, that is how I feel and plan to do it, but when Ron pleads his case that things will get better, I am hopeful we can get back what we had before. I loved Ron and didn’t want to give up on a 20-year relationship that was mostly good, but I wasn’t going to stick around to be treated the way he has been. I did that with my last marriage for over 6 years and he had never changed, and I wasted my time. No, I was ready to go now.
He asked that I give him until the end of the year and if I still felt the same way, he would help me move. I said o.k. or if anything else happens between that time, I was leaving. It has been a few weeks since that discussion, and he has at least made it tolerable for me to stay in the house, but there is no connection there for me any longer. Just seeing him reminds me of all the hurt and dashed dreams of spending the rest of my life with him. Plus, I don’t want to be around when he decides that this is too hard, and he becomes the way he has been these last few years again.
As the proverbial camel, these were the final incidents that pushed me beyond what I could emotionally and physically handle. Everything became so chaotic and out of control, I could not mentally process anything or function through everyday life.
But I wasn’t giving up on life. I knew things had to change to create the comfortable, peaceful, and happy life that I craved, and I had to be the one to change. Follow me through this journey as I start from the bottom up to create a new and improved life for myself. I hope relating this journey of mine will help others, like you, to fight for the exact life you desire.
Stay posted after the new year for my Journal entries on my progress and practices to make this transformation and my Colorful Journey to help me keep focused and relaxed. I would love to hear from you about what happened that made you realize that you needed to make a change in your life and what you are doing to improve your situation.