I am Not a Stone

While a stone is impenetrable, it has no heart. It can be showered with abuse showing no mark, yet it will break.

I am not a warrior. There is nothing to fight, just a morass. I step, get stuck, step again. Then I lie down and cry, sinking deeper.

I cannot fight. There is nothing to fight. I just pull at air, expel it and pull again. I only do that because my brain commands it. I live and live and live, waiting for the line between knowing and not knowing. How long before I forget Chris? After my brain has turned to stone, I will no longer have to pull in that air. I will finally be dead. Chris will not die just yet. His brothers will give him life, while remembering his death,

Frontotemporal disorder

Apparently, I might have another 10 whole years of life. Perhaps longer, if I am lucky. A body with a hardening substance rattling in my skull.

I can’t imagine. I don’t want to imagine. Now, I stand in an open doorway, struggling for breath and unable to step through.

It is like in very cold or very hot days when I open the door to the house and hit the wall of heat or cold. An invisible barrier, but quite impassable. Halted by that which is not really there but effects me nevertheless. A wall of the atmosphere of that keeps me alive but I can no longer move through.

My brain hardening. No charges moving back and forth carrying information. Just plopped there getting harder and harder.

I wonder what it will feel like. I wonder if I will know. I do right now and it ain’t so grand.

Gifts

One of the things I found out recently is that my frontal lobes are hardening, faster than than than they are supposed to be.

I wasn’t aware that frontal lobes hardened. I was told that it was normal.

It isn’t. I have dementia.

My son and I cried together for a bit. He went to do research and came back feeling better. It didn’t mean that I was going to be helpless soon.

I can feel it every day. It isn’t like forgetting a word or where you put your glasses or leaving something odd in the freezer.

I feel quantities leave me and I know they are gone. I don’t know what they were. My son will say something and I have no idea what he is talking about. We had spent some time discussing it the day before. I know there are holes because I come to the edge of one and feel the step into nothingness.

Completely gone.

I will be completely gone.

I will die of dehydration and starvation.

Might be for the best. I am not who I used to be. She was OK.

Donation

My brother-in-law was killed today. He was an organ donor. At the time of his death, no one said anything to my sister about organ donation and she was distraught and it did not come to her.

I called and found out that for 24 hours, there was still a great deal of his body that would be useful. This brings her great relief. He is gone. He is no longer in that empty shell. Let others see again, or walk again, or have breasts reconstructed. There are so many lives he can improve. Let his body be of use now that he no longer needs it.

Humanity

It isn’t Republican and Democrat. It isn’t Conservative and Liberal. It isn’t North and South. It isn’t the USA and Mexico. It isn’t Cis and so many, many other kinds of people. It isn’t Black and White in all of the myriad ways that can be understood. It isn’t all of these things that scare us or make us angry.

It is humanity. We are human beings. It is time to treat people as if they were people because, damn it, they are.

Who that you know would you want to be treated so painfully and disrespectfully? I know some people reject their very family members. How do you cast out your very family members? If you can do that, you can hate everybody and anybody else.

They do it because of an idea.

Let’s replace that idea.

We are human.

People are people. I’m sorry if you don’t understand them. They are still people.

How are the “others” treating you inhumanely? How do they hurt you? 

Many of my friends disagree with me, but they still treat me as a human being. They still give me respect. They give me gifts. If I needed any kind of help, they would help me. I am irritating and stupid and many, many, many bad things, or, at least, that is what some see. Yet, my friends treat me as a human being.

Why not do that with everyone else? They are human, too. Why do you allow people to be treated the way many treat cattle? Actually, there are laws that protect non-human animals. Why do you allow people who are different from you to be treated less kindly and with less respect than you treat other animals? Because they are the “others?” 

How do you decide who are the “others?” Does someone tell you? Do you think about it and decide? What do you think about? Where do you get your information? If you are deciding who is allowed to be human, you had damned well better use a lot of sources, not just some guy who said something you agreed with once.

People have agendas. They will lie, cheat, steal, cause pain, murder, and enslave. They will make up more. They will do whatever. Why? Because the “others” are not people. They make them not people so they can do horrible things.

If you need religion to help you act in a humane fashion, then use it. If you can tell right from wrong, good from bad, human from what? Human?

As a group we call ourselves humanity, but humanity is also the way we behave. You can treat other humans with humanity. Why do you choose not to?

Quickest Way to Death

Fortunately, everyone who knows me knows that I would rip their heads off if they suggested that maybe it is time for me to be getting over the loss of Chris.

I will never get over the loss of Chris. How could I? That utterly remarkable person stopped existing.

It doesn’t get better. It gets worse. You know what he would say, but he isn’t here to say it. You know that he would grow and change and get even smarter, wittier, and wiser.

It never would have occurred to me, before this happened, to suggest that someone’s grief over the loss of their child was unreasonably long. You just know it. You don’t even have to have a child to know that there can’t be any way to move beyond it. Now I know that I can’t even peak around it.

If I ever, ever, ever hear those words come out of someone’s mouth or see it written anywhere, all Hell will break loose. You think you have heard or seen me angry, try it. Just try it.

You have Grieved Long Enough

Fortunately, everyone who knows me knows that I would rip their heads off if they suggested that maybe it is time for me to be getting over the loss of Chris.
I will never get over the loss of Chris. How could I? That utterly remarkable person stopped existing.


It doesn’t get better. It gets worse. You know what he would say, but he isn’t here to say it. You know that he would grow and change and get even smarter, wittier, and wiser.


It never would have occurred to me, before this happened, to suggest that someone’s grief over the loss of their child was unreasonably long. You just know it. You don’t even have to have a child to know that there can’t be any way to move beyond it. Now I know that I can’t even peak around it.


If I ever, ever, ever hear those words come out of someone’s mouth or see it written anywhere, all Hell will break loose. You think you have heard or seen me angry, try it. Just try it.