Silent night

It's the first Christmas without Papy. And it has been relatively smooth.

Relatively being in the eyes of the beholder.

I've been ensuring mom feels fine and gets all her stuff done. Lately, she's been getting tired quickly. She's telling me it's tougher than usual to get things done. That she will look at her budget and see if she can survive with what she makes. That things just take too long lately. That she feels so slow.

It really breaks my heart. I remember Mom being so active and energetic. And now to watch her slow down. It feels strange. And scary too.

I think part of it is not having dad around to help her or having dad to be taken care of. I don't know. All I know is that I do see her slowing down.

The relatively attacks.

We went to midnight Mass. A small group since nephew and niece in law were in OK City, oldest niece and nephew in law are in Tulsa and youngest niece and nephew in law are in Europe. 

Just Sis, Bro in law, middle niece, mom and I.

Oh, and Dad.

I felt him next to me at church.

I could not sing.

I choked.

I covered it up with a "cough" and throat clearing.

When those waves come through, I have the hardest time not falling apart. It takes a lot of concentration just not to cry, not to break down. Yeah, I am wrong, am sure, in may ways. I try to maintain for mom's sake. I have no idea if she can tell or if she knows, but I just feel that i need to be strong and hang in there for her sake.

And those waves are trying so hard to break down the dam.

And they come ... strong .... steady ... plowing at me.

And I hold back. And my voice cracks when singing. And I think of other things.

And I know.

It'll come back.

Ouch. Guilt.

Today I was around the house ... making sure some things that mom had mentioned got done. I decided to even make something to eat cause I thought it'd be nice to have something done.

Well, she cried. Its all still too fresh. She mentioned how nice it was to have someone meet her at home. Which makes me feel guilty cause I can't. And I love this lady a lot ... a lot.

Didn't help that when she got home on the service bus, she introduced me to the bus driver. She said "Oh, I know ... he looks like his father."

I made dinner for the two of us. Some black beans and rice (bacon added for flavor) and some leftover pork. 

Later last night, we did the night prayers she so loves. Even with yawning as much as she did, cause she is exhausted after work, we got through it all.

She loves to give and not think about things. But once in a while something breaks through. Its still fresh. Its been what? Almost 7 months?

And something did.

Her emotions affect her much more than she'd admit. She woke up feeling bad this morning.

Which makes me feel bad for her. So many little things to do around the house. I want to do them and help her. But I don't want to leave her alone.

Guilt is oh so much fun.

Six months ... and baseball.

Its been six months since dad died. I will say that it hasn't been the toughest but, there are times ... like waves ... they come ... the feelings, the lump in the throat, the watery eyes ... when I do miss him.

And I do miss him.

I miss being able to talk baseball with him. With A-Rod doing all his crazy stuff ... Oh, dad and I would have eaten that up.

I miss sharing all the good things that have happened to me ... the trip to Seattle, the leadership at school. I know Dad would be proud. And I need to hear that or feel that once in a while, specially my dad's.

I miss hearing him cough ... although lately when I cough I hear him. I miss hearing his sneezes, he had the LOUDEST sneezes anywhere.

A few weeks ago, I was listening to NPR, as I do every morning to wake me up, and they started talking about the World Series and who would go, what the teams were like ... and I lost track of what else because the lump in my throat got to be a bit tough to just swallow it down and move on.

Is it possible to feel someone who's moved on by you? Well, I did. My dad was next to me. My dad was right there next to me. I felt his presence just next to my shoulder.

I really wished I could have talked with him about it. About the teams, why the Yankees did not do well this year, what the hell is up with A-Rod ... and I know he would have had some amazing words about all of it. Dad had the history down, he knew all the facts and the reasons for things.

I know not many people think of baseball as America's sport. Others think it slow and boring. Others think it needs to taken out to pasture.

Not me. It reminds me of my dad, of a slow and careful pace, of a life full of wisdom and care ... of a man who, in his own way, taught me how to be a man, a mechanic, a team player ... so much.

I miss you dad.

Guilt

I love visiting my family. Hell, if it wasn't for them, I would really have no reason to come to this town ... or even state. To me Oklahoma is just a weird little state above Texas. That sucks. Which prevents Texas from falling into the gulf. Old college joke.

I enjoy seeing my parents. I have no guilt about not spending enough time with them, or calling them more often, or being present for them while here. I really don't.

The guilt comes in from them wanting to make me happy.

And it doesn't.

I just feel guilty.

Let me explain. We go to the Walmart, which seems to be a great place for them, and I see let's say some cheese I like. I mention I like this cheese, that its really good.

"Get it. We'll pay for it."
"No really, its ok, its too much and I'm leaving *soon* (tomorrow, day after, etc)"
"We'll eat it. Its ok"

So we get it.
And we eat some, not all.
There's a chuck left in the fridge.

And I leave.

And I come back.
And the cheese is still there.
The whole chuck that was left after we ate some.
Only now its green.

Guilt sweeps in, smiles and lets me enjoy the moment.

Its Easter.
"Let me buy you some stuff. I want you to look good."
"No, mom, its ok. I brought some clothes."
"No, really, let us. We'll enjoy giving you these"
"Fine, but we go discount"

They bought the boots. At a discount. I made sure.

Now for some shirts and pants oh and a tie ... don't forget the tie. They bought the pants and shirt. I bought the tie and a belt for these new pants. They paid more than I did, take my word for it.

Its my only way to not feel guilty.

I am not bragging.
I am not wanting to do this.
I am not enjoying this.

THEY are on a fixed income.
THEY are always needing money.
THEY are old and have plenty of illnesses.
THEY don't need to be paying for my stuff.

So I feel guilty.

Drive to the liquor store to get some wine for tomorrow.
"And get some beer you like."

Why? because I am here? Because they feel guilty for me that I am alone? (although at times a bit lonely, I honestly do not mind it).

When I come visit, its like the second coming, I am hugged and loved and oh so good you are here every twenty minutes and squeeze my hand while driving and so glad you are here and .... I am just a freaking human being. I am not doing anything outside of what I expect myself to do for them. I am not doing some horrendous sacrifice (although the trip is a bit long, its no biggie ... rest stops and such help).

I feel guilty.

I feel bad.

And then I just let them do it.
It makes them happy.
They smile when they do it.
They enjoy taking care of me.

It seems to hurt them when I don't.

So I pay for a few things and they pay for a few things.

And my guilt secedes.

Some.