Carried Away

warning: heavy post

 I am learning more about the human brain and grief than I had ever imagined.

My most recent adventures have taken me down roads of cognitive medical reading, personal wondering and expansively painful learning.

My father had decided he was going to have the surgery after our visit to the neurologist. The doctor pretty much said, aside from fear of the surgery (which is normal) why NOT have it. At that " suggestion" my father said, fuck it schedule the surgery. 

I was there asking for alternatives and finding out that his long term headaches were probably the start of this who event. After ping pong visits between the neurologist and the neurosurgeon it was shown on MRI scans that my father actually has a lot of atrophy of his brain and so the surgery was not the safest option or the preferred route from the surgeon. So back to where we started and watching his cognitive decline and body function loss up close.

(below text written in stream of consciousness)

I have just finished two of the most challenging weeks with them. My father had a yearly check up and the doctor seemed fine with all he was doing; which seemed like a cursory look at things but I was exhausted and my father had been coughing all day. Doctor listened to his chest and said it was clear. It ended up keeping my mother up all night and she was already running on almost no sleep. He then states when we return that he "isn't feeling well" I say if things are not better soon we are going to a walk in clinic. The weekend that followed was all coughing and my brother took him on Monday, because as an immune compromised person he wanted to make sure I was safer until we knew more and it was bronchitis possibly the start of pneumonia. By Wednesday my mother on a call with me coughed and I returned to town to take her to a clinic that confirmed she had pneumonia, and Friday I returned because she was worse and then we went to the ER because her symptoms pointed to C-diff and she hadn't eaten since Wednesday after the first appointment and my father had decided to stop eating and then the ER, who said she had a viral pneumonia and then we were there again Saturday to watch them eat, because now neither of them was and then Monday and Tuesday my brother and wife took food to them and I spent all day calling non-profits and doctors and learning about Medi-Cal and being overwhelmed with tasks and calls and then Wednesday took my mother to a psychiatrist to see if she could start her SSRI's again because she stopped ALL her meds cold turkey a couple months ago including her zoloft, which might add to why every interaction with her was her crying. Sitting in the office for her meeting was strange, but even stranger was her new dementia like memory looping of phrases and memories was heartbreaking. The doctor said with her level of depression it was common and should start clearing when her new medicines start working. Then Thursday meeting with the exterminator for their home who said we need to replace the dilapidated garage door because they can't help if there is a literal open door for rodents. (it was not a surprise or a shock) So my brother is taking charge of that. A physical therapist who only came for 10min that day and sent me into a mental rage and then finding that a very important document for my father had expired and that stops the process of the other big project. So yesterday was all day of online renewal forms and finally signing documents for in home help that we can pay for out of pocket and ideally that help, will start Tuesday. More meetings Monday and doctors appointments Tuesday and managing schedules and paperwork and answering phone calls and texts from family who want to know all the details....and then ask if I tried x, y, or Z. In the end my mother told me I was really good at the "handholding" I was doing for them and I should make it my job. I said " I'd really just like to be an artist"  and she said " you can be creative with it, the caregiving....That was the javelin into my heart...and I kept a poker face and waited to get into the car and drive away before crying. The diapers, the food fussing, the medications, the water reminders, the doctors offices, the questions and suggestions and assumptions....remind me of my infertility days. The casual suggestions about adoptions and sex positions and the  'if you just" or "have you tried" and the banger "have you considered"

I only made yoga once last week, I am currently sitting in my workspace trying to catch up on normal things, like laundry and bills, but I have gotten 4 calls from the parents already and I am still trying to imagine my work. 

Trying to see it in my minds eye...imagine making it, breathing deeply and feeling content in the process. Telling myself that life isn't passing me by and my work still matters and I still need to make it because although all this time has been stolen from me and my partnership....it really does matter and things will change soon and I can use all this energy to make my own art.

I am wondering which way is up?

my garden is producing so many cucumbers

I have earmarked this week as a week that I stay put and try and make something! I miss making my work; thinking and trying to make the colors work or the concept appear as I feel it. it has been bumpy so far, focused time yesterday maxed-out at about 20 minutes, before calls, and emails and my brain just collapsed.

As of late, my life has been my parents...all engrossing, notes on the phone and scraps of paper. I drive into town at least once a week to deliver a couple prepared meals and make sure appointments are known and addresses are marked down. Remind them of what is required of them and how they should react to particular situations. I attend all the doctors appointments now, with exceptions for mental health care appointments and now my fathers in-home physical therapy.

I am the decoder ring. My parents don't absorb information and so I attend and answer questions that bubble up after we leave. Sometimes it was who did we just see and why?

My father finally was finally diagnosed with NPH , which in short, is extra fluid on the brain that doesn't resolve and leaves his brain compressed from the internal pressure. We saw a brain surgeon and she mentioned that he indeed has it and it appears it has been in place since his fall in 2024. She said that a valve could be placed in his brain to drain the excess fluid. She described the process and when she was done, my father said " you aren't gonna drill a hole into my skull!"  She said that he didn't have to have the surgery, but call her if he changes his mind. This is not a fatal disease, just a functional one. I suspect it was there before his fall but ignored or downplayed by his neurologist. It doesn't matter now how long he has had it, we are all going to have to live with it because he refuses to have surgery for it. Frankly, I am not sure he would be the best candidate for the brain surgery anyways...he would be required to do a lot of PT afterwards to recover from it and I don't think he would commit to it. So he will continue to be confuses, unsteady and experience funtional issues.

I made a promise to myself recently (in the last three weeks) that I would like to try and have a relationship with my parents and not spend my time fighting, bargaining and being run over. 

A friend of a friend mentioned this option with their children being picky eaters...they said, I could spend my time with then yelling and making them miserable or I could let it go and have a relationship with them. Most things work themselves out...I took this idea to heart when I was having a panic attack thinking of all the things I was trying to get them to do for their own good and falling flat and being run over, and snapped at. 

So now my voices' cadence is cheery, I don't debate, I don't engage with the bait to fight about something. I simply say "okay" and put down the conflict that is building.

My mother( the better of the two)  has become resistant and more forgetful, but it is hard to know if it is from her lack of sleep or lack of attention to what is being said to her. She seems to retain less and less and is procrastinating more and more. She cries on almost every phone call we have and says she needs help and then when it is offered, she snaps and says that we have overstepped and she doesn't want it. This usually means that she will reflect about it and a week or more later say she needs that help again and we will try again....except I think this time my mom might have burnt a bridge with my brother. Only time will tell....

So while all this swirls in my brain, I am trying to put it down and think about my studio practice. The Barren took the week off work and said he wanted to support me in my focused time: he said he would make me lunch and do laundry etc...so I would be less distracted with responsibilities; but has so far, he has not been home for most of the day. He leaves to play music with his friend late morning and comes back around 8pm, as this was his usual "music camp" week* (a week he takes off annually to attend music workshops etc...with his bandmate) I am glad he is relaxing and taking time to feed his creative vein. 

All this time alone is like still air, I am left to also make food and clean up and reflect on how far away I am from creating something. 

My heart is broken...I feel so afloat. I am used up in so many ways...

I try and find things that would lead me back to the path of thinking about my work: doing yoga early in the morning to kick start my brain, watering my garden to clear my head. Clearing clutter in the workspace....making food and writing down what might pop into my head...but I am having a really hard time not feeling so very dark. I am exhausted and often feel like I am dragging my body around from place to place. I want to sleep for days, but I can't justify it in my mind, I would waste all those hours of potential creative making. I am at a loss....and when things get that quiet, my parents creep back into my thoughts. Long lists of things I should do, need to do, need to call....it is everywhere.

I had a nightmare the other night that I was standing in traffic at a very busy intersection, and when I saw a muscle car speeding towards me I couldn't move. I froze in place. I felt the car wiz past me, I felt the air vibrated past me and I got knocked by the side mirror...but it also felt like it had hit me and I traveled through the car, feet cemented into place. I stood there and wondered if I was still alive. That is when I decided it was time to wake up and get the day to begin. 

There she goes

 It feels strange to write about a car. 

I donated my car on Wednesday to the Humane World for Animals. We have a newer car, all electric and my sweet girl had almost 300,000 miles on her. She was getting tired, was gonna need all her original hoses and boots and seals replaced. 

She was my ride or die for 21 years! I picked her out originally because I wanted a four door car that would be easier to put in and take out a car seat, had enough room for my father to sit comfortably in the back and had better safety features...airbags! Before her I had a 1985 Toyota Corolla that I purchased from my great aunt, that only made right turns,  and when I started driving 100miles round trip to and from work, my mechanic suggested I get a safer car and a cell phone.

I picked out my gal, no bells or whistles, just super standard features with airbags. The upgrades from the 1985 car was that this new one had air conditioning, airbags and a CD player! It still had roll down windows (in case I drove off a bridge, I could still escape my car) and buttons and knobs that required turning to find radio stations and such. She had 3 miles on her when we drove off the lot and I loved that car. When stuff got serious, not long after getting her, she was my safe space to rage scream, cry and yell at the world. No one was the wiser, she kept my secrets. We went on the occasional road trip, but I babied her. Drove my goddaughters to and from school, carried my niblings to and from overnights. Even transported them along with the dogs while we waited for word about the youngest being born. She carried me to and from infusions and errands and gardens. 

Gladly hauling bags of compost in her trunk.

She ferried us and the cats to safety when the fires had us evacuating to safer locations. She made it through floods and storms and all the while required very little. She was " middle grey", a color I chose as a nod to my photographic love. She was my first brand new car, I picked her out, financed her and she in many way equated freedom for me. Freedom of movement, freedom for choice...I could go anywhere...she was mine! 

So when we got the newest used car, it was time to say goodbye. I cleaned out my car that night, emptying it of all the little things she had collected over the years, Acorns and CDs and love notes and keys and coins. I ripped off the Band-Aid in many ways.... I was emotional ! I sat on the kitchen floor and cried. I turned ideas around in my head. I asked my brother if his kids would want her? " she would be the perfect car to learn to drive in " I loved the idea that an Aunt would pass on another car in the family...but my niblings said no, they did not have any interest in learning how to drive! 

I asked people at my yoga studio that had kiddos, no one needed a car. 

This broke my heart, but also made it possible to think beyond the present and instead, look to donation.

The Barren was very supportive, he too had a mix of feelings. He didn't want me to feel forced to make a choice, but also knew I would have all the same options with this newer car.

When I decided who was going to take her on her next path, I drove her to the garden, talking to her along the way, thanking her for all her support over the years. I picked flowers for her dashboard and left them there to dry. 

The day before the tow truck came, I burned sage inside the car. Telling her that I release her from all that she helped me carry over the years. All the sorrow and pain that she allowed me to fill her with. All the times I screamed and cried and banged my hands into the steering wheel. I released her of all her obligations and thanked her for taking to me to places that also supported my joy and excitement. 

She was cleared of it all, she was free.

I tucked a little Milagros into a secret place to carry her to her next happy. 

The following day, I met the tow truck and watched her drive away.

I thought it would hurt more...maybe it will down the line but for now I am hopeful she will be auctioned off and make someone else happy.

Has anyone read Klara and the sun

A friend mentioned that our story was similar, and I kinda agree.

Now I feel different, as though I also let some of that sorrow and heaviness go too.

The goodbye was proof of growing pains and that is why I cried so much.

There and back again

 "Sorry for the delay, I have been overwhelmed with caregiving tasks"

This is what I wrote in response to a text from my mother in law. I feel this way a lot now. I am overtaxed, overwhelmed, over run with emotions and haggard.

April marked my 56th birthday.
I spent the month peppering treats for myself in between doctors’ appointments, work responsibilities, managing my immune system and everyday tasks.  I knew The Barren was overworked and wouldn't have the brain capacity to plan anything. I got my bi-annual haircut, a new to me dress, a new vibrator, a new to me vintage point and shoot camera and some plants for my garden. I got The Barren a fancy new showerhead (I give gifts for my birthday) made my brother a couple quiches and treated a friend to an ice cream.
When the actual date rolled around, The Barren and I celebrated my birthday together, which I loved. He had no ideas, because all he can think about is work and so I sat for a moment and thought of trees...and told him I wanted to go forest bathing. It is a bit complex orchestrating it out, as one of the cats had just been put on daily meds, my diet makes traveling a whole thing and our cat sitter was at Stagecoach, and our backup sitter was moving that same weekend for fumigation...BUT we were able to spend two nights away!!
I had spent the week before making birthday cakes, cupcakes and sweets...every cake I made had a shelf life of four hours before becoming dry or dense or chewy?! I make my birthday cake every year since my diet had so many restrictions added...this year was no different. In staying with tradition, we took cupcakes to my parents the night before so I could be with the people who made me. This year was... it was surreal. We arrived, my parents handed me bills (my brother and I handle their payments now) and asked questions about medical appointments and then they walked to the table, sang happy birthday, took a photo and we ate the cupcakes in silence. Packed up the tray and we were back in our car an hour later. It felt very different...disconnected and not really celebratory.
I made note of that in my mind, and it broke my heart a bit more.
The next day was my actual birthday, my other ritual is to take a sunrise yoga class to start the day. I did and much to my surprise, my yoga teacher had placed a sweet gift at the top of my mat while I was sitting with eyes closed before class. When I opened my eyes and discovered it I spent the rest of the class hiding my tears. I was SO overwhelmed by the gesture I just let the tears fall. I was in a dark class so it was easy to hide. I kept thinking of a meditation that was what does kindness look like to you?
I drove home and we spent the day driving to the city outside the National Park. I took photos along the way. Part of this first adventure was that we had recently traded in our older BMW for a used electric car, so this was the maiden road-trip voyage and it required a new learning curve. It is not a tesla so chargers are different and less obvious.
As we drove further away, I was getting texts and calls with birthday wishes and songs. It delighted me. We found a place to get some food that I could make work and we ate in the hotel room in our PJs watching television. When 8:30 pm came around, I called to check in on the parents...they had gone to bed...and when I said we had arrived at the hotel and that I had gotten the loveliest calls all day...it was then that my mother said. What is the date, did we forget to call you?
My parents had forgotten to call me.
The following day was a new page and we drove to the trees...MUCH to our surprise it had SNOWED overnight making the park right out of a fairytale! 
I live on the west coast, so this is beyond magic and I was laughing and crying and making strange primal noises when I couldn't form words.
I was in such a deep state of glee I was crying the whole time, everything was SO beautiful and quiet and calm and perfect. I kept turning to The Barren and saying “this is the BEST birthday ever!"
We walked a little in the snow, and saw deer and squirrels and I took lots of photographs. I smelled tree bark, and listened to the crunch/squeaking sound of snow beneath my tennis shoes, got hit in the head with a snowball that fell from a tree and filled my eyes and heart with the forest and gratitude.
As we drove to the next charging station we made promises to each other to return again soon and as often as we could. It was the balm that soothed both our hearts and brains. It was like we had traveled through a portal to another world, because as soon as we left the park, reality returned and our hearts were heavy again. Responsibilities were waiting on voicemails and we drove home quietly trying to ignore them for as long as possible.

Muddled and Conflicted

 The Barren and I are conflicted and muddled in our mix of feelings and emotions about the passing of our brother in law.

He passed under hospice care with his wife, mother and children in attendance.

He died on the 10th after a 7 year journey with cancer, drug trials, medical interventions and the power of prayer. He was deeply tied to his church and a christian fundamentalist. He coached local football and was on the board of the adventist school his children attended and his wife teaches at. He was a big guy, big voice, big personality. We first were introduced to him at a birthday celebration for my FIL where he got fall down drunk and landed in the bushes apologizing over and over for making a bad first impression. He was always offering help with some thing or another. He was well educated and held a MBA & MS Psychology.

I wrote about our "November Trip" to spend time around the table together. We saw him once more last year when he attended the wedding of his mother in law, that The Barren performed. He offered to perform the service, but was turned down by my MIL because she didn't want any religion in it. 

He was in pain and we barely shared a word with each other while I photographed the family, and had a meal at the same table once again. There was another family thanksgiving this year, but we opted to not attend and stayed home instead.

When word came from my MIL that he had entered hospice, we were not surprised but conflicted in our feelings. He was a father to our nephews who we are not close to because their parents chose to not allow it, as we were not "good people", meaning we were not christians. 

(so we thought about the boys, and The Barrens sister)

Over the years, we were fine to reach out to if something was needed, like a schoold donation, christmas gifts or graduation gifts. I left a social media platform because he stated that the confederate flag was not offensive to him, nor was a nazi flag as they were just symbols. He was deeply "american" in that his country came before everyones and should be respected, but had no problem teaching his children that women were here to serve men. He continued to support the rapist in charge of the usa and made sure his family voted the same*...which gave then all great joy. He was a person who was one way with family and another with the world he interacted with. He was a people pleaser and performative around family. 

*the kids are in college

So we sat conflicted with our feelings about his death. Then word traveled around family that The Barrens sister was having a small service and so we assumed it would be the church and her and the kids. We were fine with that. We were outsiders and that made complete sense.

Then I got a text saying "it would mean a lot if we could come."

We have rented a car, and a hotel room and are doing an 800mile round trip in two days to attend. We are even shuttling back our new FIL, as our MIL plans to stay for a longer than he would like. 

The posts are now all over social media and I don't think this will be a small service any longer.

How do you deal with the death of a nazi sympathizer in the family?

Short term: We give. We continue to give and give as that is what makes sense to us. Kindness and love.

I chose to make a donation in his name to a foundation that coaches kids in underserved areas, focusing on girls. “Girls” refers to gender-expansive youth (cis girls, trans girls, non-binary youth, gender non-conforming youth, gender queer youth and any girl-identified youth).

There is also a Gofund me style page set up as well, and The Barren has already said he plans on donating funds to his sister. He even plans on bringing a guitar to one of the nephews who expressed interest in playing. 

Needless to say, we remain conflicted with our feelings, and are muddling our way through.

Who is that?

Recently when I look into the mirror I do not often recognize the person reflecting back at me.

Not in an actual I don’t know who I am kinda way, but an unfamiliar way. I feel disconnected from myself in many ways, and like I am no longer who I thought I was kinda way.

When you imagine yourself, you get a mental image of yourself...and when I catch a glimpse of myself in a reflective surface I am often surprised who is looking back. 

The Barren and I attended a cousins wedding on New Year’s Eve, it was lovely and romantic and the first time in a LOOOOOOONG time that we have had plans on new year’s. The newlyweds are soo deeply in love and it was a beautiful thing to witness. At one point I said to myself, this is happiness, this is joy that you are feeling...it felt so different I had to assess it in myself.

My parents and brother didn't go; my parents because they said it was too much fuss, and my brother because it was a kid free event and he didn't want to leave his home alone on new year’s eve. So the Barren and I dressed up and went and every person I saw asked about my parents and why they were not there. It was hard. I was trying to treat the night as my vacation, my get away for 24hrs. I told that to The Barren and he then understood that I haven’t had the chance to getaway...from anything! So as he watched person after person ask about my parents he saw me. We took photos of ourselves dressed up and smiling, the rain that night made for a chilly covered outdoor wedding and the music was insanely loud, so loud I had a sore throat from screaming all night to talk to anyone. As we left, before midnight, we relished in the quiet of the car and the sound of rain on the windscreen.

It is a strange time we are living in, and being here in the states makes it even more surreal by each hour. I am heartbroken and exhausted and constantly worried about something or another. I am trying to practice radical acts of joy and find things in the day that I can celebrate. I feel lonely and sad a lot more of the time, and despite my activities, I am often solo as the weeks pass. Sometimes I like the time of solitude and quiet, often times it weighs heavy on me and I feel invisible until I am pulled from beneath my cloak...

Example: I was followed in the market yesterday by a man that wanted to tell me how he liked my hair, and admired that I was "letting it go"...he had followed me through to store to tell me this and I am sure if I had said anything other than "um, thanks" he would have continued to engage in some other unpredictable way. I was left looking for ways to be in a more people dense area, making sure I wasn't alone, feeling angry that this creepy guy "approved" of the way I was presenting myself. I texted The Barren and told him I felt super icky from the encounter... and I was really angry. This was only a few days after a man murdered a woman in her own car, and the nation saw. Men are unpredictable and scary.

I am on edge, we all are.

For me, this week had beat me up pretty impressively.

I am involved with my parents and their medical appointments. Once again, I waited to be invited and asked to assist, permission is an important part of trust.

Last week was a lumbar puncture and then this week a meeting about the results with a new neurologist for my father. He had become more confused as of late and the MRI showed fluid on his brain, so that was drawn and the new doctor met with us on Tuesday. He was late, and apologized about that...my father was clearly freaked out because he didn't act out about the wait (they were late for his lumbar puncture too and he was repeatedly slamming his walking stick on the ground in a Gandalf "you shall not pass" kinda way. I had to talk to him like a toddler in the common waiting area explaining how it was disrespectful and how there were others ahead of him), but was quiet on the exam table. My mother was quiet too but angry (about her whole world being turned inside out) next to me...fear presents itself differently in us all. 

The doctor took his time and explained the reason for the lumbar draw, the results of the MRI and what he saw on the spinal fluid draw...and then ordered a blood test (a new one, for Alzheimer’s markers) we talked about gait changes in my father’s walking and concerns about his developing confusion and the talk was a mix of science terms and clear phrases which I followed along with but my parents were clearly overwhelmed by, so I am glad I was there to be the "decoder ring" for them. Afterwards my mother kept saying "you were really good" in that I understood and asked questions as they arose with the doctor. Neither ot them do that.

I was masking well, really well...because what they didn’t know was that I was battling some serious abdominal pain from what I thought was a flare..I had taken liquid antacids down the street from their home...and I was horribly uncomfortable. I had awoken with the pains and soldiered on to make work that morning in town before picking them up and shuttling them to and from the appointment. After the appointment I left their home and was ready to release the emotions of the day when I passed my sister in law on her walk around the neighborhood, I buttoned it up and spent the next hour chatting with her before heading back towards home an hour away.

I didn't get to cry, I was too tired.

I was greeted by The Barren, who had a bad day and I told him, I was just gonna have a thin miso soup for dinner and proceeded to make my dinner. After sipping the soup, I collapsed on his lap on the couch and fell asleep.

I am exhausted and emotionally drained, I feel like I am walking around in a cloud. Not really here or there. There has been so much grief in my body for the last two years.

Yesterday afternoon, I told The Barren that as much as I would like to ignore that I have an autoimmune disease, I am getting punched in the face by it over and over demanding attention. I think I am grieving, not just the state of the world, but my body, my family, and my dreams for myself and my life. It is so frustrating to have ideas and desires to do things, but have less than enough energy to do them. To see them so close, but be unable to maintain the stamina to see them through. I am trying to be graceful with myself, but it is becoming harder and harder and I wonder "who is this?"

My own doctors meetings start tomorrow to talk about my latest results. 

Ideally I can have a good cry soon, like a palate cleanser

A friend mentioned this writing prompt and I found it timely

*Keep your chin up buttercup*

Baseline

**Brain dump-trauma** 

 I didn't go to the Bog Witch meeting, I chickened out...or found myself distracted enough to let it slide by. I was embarrassed at myself...and then spent time rationalizing why I didn’t make the effort to go. In the end, I simply made myself dinner, sat and watched something on tv and pondered what happened to my get up and go. 

The Barren is currently overseas for his big business trip. He has been adjusting well, and getting things done and exploring and being pampered by the hotel and his company and coworkers. It is really beautiful to witness and although it was so horrible to watch him leave...I am happy that his experience so far has been a good one. I watch his air-tag move around the country and city and it makes me feel more assured in many ways. I can't say it has totally eliminated my catastrophized scenarios, but it has absolutely muted them enough that I can do other things.

We got a lot of things done and sorted before he flew off, like our will and deep conversations that were overdue. It was so beautifully intimate and healing for us both. We celebrated our 23rd wedding anniversary and went out to a dinner. He was so overwhelmed, that I did all the planning and was the only one to share a card and little token.

Meanwhile I also finished my end of the year art deadline, finished a commission, got accepted into a show in NY city, won an international award, stripped my community garden space, shot portraits of a collector couple of mine and finished my 1000th yoga class.

To say I have pushed myself into high gear is an understatement and I don't always run on high, but I have been having more manic style energy bursts since starting this medication.

The second week The Barren was gone we got rain, like A LOT of rain and when I went to use his car for errands, I noticed the rug was shiny...then on further inspection I found the rug was TOTally SOAKEd and the back passenger foot-well had two inches of standing water in it. No open windows, no open doors...the inside was dry...but the floor was under water! so I spent multiple days getting as much water out as possible between additional rain storms. Yesterday after multiple hours with a shop vacuum, I "tapped out" and drove it to the mechanics for professional help. I had done everything I could and still it wasn’t enough. I contacted the insurance company and filed a claim, and now it is with the professionals.

********

The Barren is home, safe and didn't get sick! MASSIVE WIN for us both.

A funny snafu was that I had kept all the information about his car to myself, as there was nothing he could do from India and so I figured I'd explain when I went to pick him up. The night before he was set to travel home, the mechanics texted him an invoice! He called and said why are they texting me an invoice, is this spam? I explained what happened and we both had a massive laugh about it. He has been considering another car and this might have been Mother Nature’s push to change things up.

Since his return we've hunkered down and have been taking things at a slower pace. He leaves again Sunday for another trip but this time only East and for only a week.

Last weekend we got some results back on my father, and it will require some more appointments, procedures and patience. Upon this information being shared by my parents to other family members, I got a phone call the day after. Actually a conference call with a slight interrogation feeling to it, asking me what I am doing and how this is being addressed and why I wasn't pushing my parents into making choices, and do I trust the doctors etc...

I finished the call, and stood up to find my whole back had a spasm and my left hip was trashed. I have spent the week stretching and heating and taking Tylenol. Thursday was the BIG GALLERY exhibition and I want to be able to stand and share the excitement of the night and my accomplishments.

I ended up at the massage therapist on Wednesday asking her to cast spells, and do any other magic should could do to help me be more comfortable. It is most likely a sciatica episode and as I have NEVER had this happen before I was learning as I moved through it.

She gave me a massage, and did some cupping, reiki, hot stones and preformed some serious magic to my back and hip. Leaving me so so thankful!

I arrived at the big event last night rested, ready and in little, to no discomfort.

I was able to get a couple photos just after entering the event, and then my in-laws arrived. I love that they come to this event. It is always a funny surreal moment, as my mother in law has hearing loss and doesn't read the room, so I have been interrupted in a conversation more than once by her interjecting herself, because she can't hear I am already talking. My new father in law is often decked out in a Santa cap and seasonal shirt and wandering about with a smile taking in the busy gallery scene. Last night was the same, so when The Barren suggested they head out front to get some air, I followed and they rested against the front window, chatting and then....

My father in law suddenly collapsed, I threw my arms out and caught him before he hit the cement. He seemed to have fainted...he recovered and stood up again, and while I was chatting with him...he collapsed again...this time for longer and I caught his crumple again, making sure his head was safe and straightening his legs from below himself. The Barren called 911 and the response was swift. I kneeled on the sidewalk next to him talking to him quietly and convincing him to let a professional make sure he was okay. 

My mother in law just kept saying this has never happened and he was tired. As wealked her to the car, I reasched out and placed a hand on her shoulder, to which she responded "I'm fine", I looked her way and said, sometimes it is just nice to be reminded that you have people around you that care. She didn't really find comfort in my softness, so I let the words float away. We took her to the ER to wait for word. He was being treated for dehydration and low blood pressure and after hearing this my MIL told us to take her home. He had other labs being done, so she would wait for results and his call to pick him up from home where she had a car. She shooed us out and we sat in our car for a moment wondering WTF just happened!?

We went to a restaurant in town to stare at each other, ask each other over and over " you okay"; my hip/thigh pulsing in pain and try to process the evening that just unfolded under a beautiful full moon in front of the gallery on the biggest night of the year.

As our food arrived, MIL texted that he was released and home. As of this morning, although he didn’t sleep well, he was fine and she'd check his blood pressure before they take the bus to retrieve their bikes from last night. 

So that was last night.

Totally normal, totally surreal, absolutely baseline for this year.

in reflection, I am thankful that my body carried me through the night, never once faltering at what I asked from it. Showing me how strong it is and how capable I am.

My cousin was there, helping me by getting me a glass of water, putting hands on my shoulder, while The Barren supported by his mom and answered questions. Her question was "how can I best support you right now?"

Kindness does matter