Dear Diary,
I'm sorry for not writing sooner. I haven't been unfaithful....no looking at Faces in Books, no bird sounds Tweeting in the house......no, I can't even be creative in giving you a reason why. To borrow a line from Dickens....It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
I won't go on and on about it all. It is painful at the end....so I'll start at the beginning.
At the end of June we were basking in the glow of becoming bird grandparents once again. The Barn Swallow babies were poking their little helmet heads out of the bird box house, waiting for mom and dad to bring 43,000 meals a day. Nine years of bird babies and we still get excited about these marvelous creatures.
Then we had Steph and AnthonEy here for the 4th of July. What a great time we all had. The best adventure was AnthonEy fishing for the first time with Papa. A fish was caught and a lesson taught about the fun of fishing and releasing your catch. A fishing line was tangled only six times that first day. The joy of grand parenting was at its peak.

Then on the 16th of July Christine arrived for a visit. When she walked down the arrival steps at the baggage area guess what she had carried on the plane all the way from California? A dogie. She brought us a bundle of love in a boy version of Violet. Petey. He had gone through a lot since April of this year; lost, picked up by animal control, transferred to a no kill facility at the last minute and found by Chris. He is wonderful. Someone either lost or gave away a perfect 2 year old dogie. He is ours now.
He likes tummy rubs and chasing squirrels up trees. He snaps at flies almost as if Penelope was whispering in his ear about technique. He is potty and crate trained. Yup, he is perfect and Violet kind of likes him.
Saying good-bye was hard for Chris, Violet and Petey.
Dads, kids and dogs.....life was good.
The computer issues that had started while Stephanie and AnthonEy were here of course turned into a costly nightmare. We opted for a new system that was finally installed last Friday. It took two days to get the system registered and email up again. HughesNet does not transfer information when a new system is installed and we have done that 4 times. Registration starts all over again and Selena (as in the singer), Gerard (as in Butler), Alec (as in Baldwin), and George (as in Clooney) took 6 hours one day to figure it all out. Florence (as in Nightingale) took 22 minutes the next day to fix 6 hours of errors from the previous day. I still have to sync my Blackberry to my email but I can do that myself....maybe.
Old dish on the left. Remember that mess? New dish on a pole in cement further out.
Trench for wires....not finished yet. Good thing Steve had Guido to supervise.
Then......THEN, the day after Chris left.....the 20th, I got a late afternoon call from her. She started the conversation by saying, Mom, don't get mad at me......I'm in the ER at Hoag. The short version is: She worked all day with chest and left arm pain and then drove herself to the ER. She didn't want to call Todd because he and Tyler were at surf camp on vacation so I called him. She was miserable, in pain, being fed NTG like M&M's, had an echo and stress test that showed heart damage, went on to have angiography that couldn't find the damage, barfed her guts out numerous times, couldn't shower (women will understand) and was sent home Wednesday night. I arrived the same evening after finally getting a ticket for under 1200 smackeroos. She needed sleep, rest and I hope her mom. She is still having pain episodes and is being treated for Chondro Chondritis, but her family doc isn't sure that she is out of the woods at all. More to follow as the puzzle is put together.
So.......here are my thoughts on this whole thing.....
Why did my daughter think I would be mad at her? Because she worked all day in pain or because I am a bitch?
This is out of sequence....my daughter shouldn't have to be going through this. It is absolutely not her turn. She exercises, takes care of herself, yes, she does need to change some dietary issues......but she is in her early 40's. It should be my turn.
Why is it that the only way I can cope with life is to clean, clean, clean? I cleaned my daughter's house...she has a housekeeper that comes in twice a month. I managed to make my grandson angry with my cleaning. All I did for my girl was tell her to lay flat, take a nap, stop bending her leg, get some sleep, ask her about her coffee, watch movies with her. What am I worth? The cost of a vacuum? Is that all I have given my kids?
For some reason....my uselessness I guess.....for the first time in 11 years I felt like a visitor in California. It was the first time I had ever stayed with my children....in their home, in a grandchild's bed. It felt off line. I have become a cliche....You can never go home again....that's for sure...no childhood in my future.
Steve managed just fine while I was gone. Right before I left the DVR went out. He didn't miss it and waited for me to get back home before he installed the new one. I only needed to leave 3 pages of instructions for the care of the pets. He washed his dishes, managed to find the dirty clothes hamper, did the bulk of the trench/satellite work by himself, and flushed the toilet without one reminder from me. I asked him if he felt good about batching it. He told me my job was secure and he was happy to be an uninformed husband again. I wonder.
I am so far behind in reading blogs I'm in 2008. I feel like closing shop, going away from blog land, living in a cave for a while but am not sure I want that either. I am afraid...afraid for my daughter, afraid I can't cope with life and loss. Everything changes, everything stays the same. I am still....just....rosemary in lower case letters.







