Always Look on The Bright Side of Life...

Pretty much sums it up these days. I know, I know... I haven't returned emails, phone calls, but it's taking pretty much everything in me to get up and shower in the morning.

Here's what's going on. Gram was in the hospital for a week with pneumonia, heart attacks, and her general declining health. Both of you who read the blog know that I deal with all of the phone calls when it comes to her health, and tried to be a good girl and visit every other day, taking Mom with me several times. Not fun. She was at the same hospital Dad died in. Mom did okay, but it was really tough on both of us Gram made it through, and she's back at the nursing home.

Meanwhile on the homefront, the Baron and I had a complete relationship meltdown. Epic proportions for a few days. I was having anxiety attacks for a few days, and wound up working from home at least once because I thought I was going to stroke out.

Oh yeah, and if you watch the news, read the paper, or don't live under a rock... you also know that the company I work for is in serious jeopardy - not a good time for me not to be putting in my best performance at work. Terrified I'm going to lose my job.

So I backed off from Mom and Auntie for a few days, trying to straighten my life out and get my head back together. Mom was so good about it, but the visits to the hospital to see Gram really through her out of whack. Flash forward a week, and Mom hadn't really slept or eaten since I saw her 6 days ago. Not good. We hugged, we cried, we took medication, finally got Mom to sleep, with the promise that she wouldn't stay alone in the house for a few days, she'd go down to my other Aunt's house to stay.

And yesterday when I talked to her (3 days after the meltdown) she had been at my aunt's a few days.... and she's decided that's it. She's not sleeping at her house ever again. She's officially moved. I knew it was coming, but I just didn't expect it to hurt so much. My parent's house is never going to be my parent's house again. Pretty soon she won't own it any longer. I can't stop crying about it. I may be pushing toward 40, been on my own since my early 20's, but dammit, Mom and Dad's house was always home! I won't be able to just swing by when I have a bad day. I won't be able to just let myself in and raid the goodie cabinet.

And the worse part is, the part that my head still can't wrap around... I'll never see Dad sitting on the oversized chair watching t.v.. I'll never see him at the computer playing his games on Pogo. I'll never again kvetch with him about work acquaintances, or how the whole place is going to hell in a hand basket. I'll never see any of his tacky Christmas decorations hung all over the house. It all finally seems real, and I can't stand it.

All this whining, and that stupid Monty Python song is ringing in my ears. Come on everybody, whistle along with me...