Diary of a MAD * FAT * WOMAN…..

Tag: Blog

  • The eye of the storm…..

    Like any experienced gulf coast resident I know how to prepare for a hurricane. In July, my father was given six months to live. As with any storm I knew this timetable could change. He had been a tropical disturbance for years brewing in the gulf that we all kept a weary eye on. And now he was gaining strength and about to make landfall.

    So I put into practice what I knew. I monitored the storm day to day and made the necessary adjustments as it accelerated and the cone that projected it’s path narrowed. I made a plan and I prepared.

    I thought I was in the clear or at least on the clean side of the storm. I thought all my preparations would serve me well. I had given up on any further attempts to “connect” with my father. It just wasn’t going to happen. So I made the best peace about him that I could. I moved into preparation mode and poured over papers and information about the five steps of dying, burial policies and what benefits would be due to my mother. I tended to the business of dying and the necessities for survival.

    As landfall grew closer I wrote an obituary, put together a slide show of photos of his life and began to prepare his eulogy. So many things I never knew came to light as the timeline took shape of the life he lived and the experiences that formed his opinions and attitudes towards his family and life.

    He passed the afternoon of September 15th at 3:55pm. Little did I realize that that would be the calm eye of the storm and that the dirty side of damaging winds and devastating floods would follow me home after the service, after everything and everyone else had been tended to.

    I came home to my own fears and my own disappointments. The guests who came to the memorial service were a virtual timeline of my own life. Teachers, friends, family as well as ex-lovers and former friends all doing “The right thing” and coming to the service for a man few knew and many had never even met. They came for my sake and the sake of my family. It brought up good memories and bad from my life. It had little to do with my father. Memories of a former classmate and close childhood friend whose mother came to pay respects and to remind me her son had been gone 17 yrs. She wondered aloud if we still remembered him. I do – everyday. Teachers were there to remind me to see the life lesson. Family was there to remind me that it was my mothers grief and recovery that was most important. My friends were there to remind me that I never have to face the world alone unless I just need to.

    I felt I needed to this time. I hid myself away from phone calls, texts and visits. I needed to let go of the man I never felt close to or loved by. And it was just one of my challenges. At the memorial I had embraced the woman I had at one time given my heart to and felt her momentary comfort – only to have to let it go all over again. I watched the friend I  love so dearly walk in and walk out like a brief blip on the radar.

    I found myself trying for days to ride out the worse of the storm after the service. Battered by the winds and drowning in the flood waters I have struggled to hang on. And then it dawned on me tonight to take control. To not wait for the winds to die and the storm to pass because life is like a storm and it never really leaves. Like a merry-go- round it spins round and round and the closer to the edge you are ,the dizzier you get and the harder it is to hold on. I had been riding the edge of the storm and was exhausted and delirious.

    A voice said…..”Move to the center. Relax and be calm”.

    Can it really be that simple? Just change your grip and move to the middle. There is a peace  and quiet there. I crave it. I need it. Tonight I will rest in that peace.

    I love each and every one of you

    Juliana

    Copyright 2011 Juliana Wathen

  • A message….

    If you call ..and I don’t answer…it is because I cannot speak.

    If you write…and I do not respond…it’s because I have no words

    If you don’t see me….have faith that I am within

    I love each and every one of you.

    Juliana

     

     

     

  • Coins for the ferryman…..

    5 am came early and 9:15pm seems so late. Days last forever and nights crawl by.

    A bottle of Windex, 2 cans of Fabreze, a canister of Clorox wipes and3 rolls of paper towels: my sister in laws and I clean thru the day to help pass the time between visitors, nurses and aids.

    Prayers are said, tears are shed, the sign of the cross is made. The smell of cigars and fresh rosemary fill the evening air. A message is delivered in her ear and she has her peace at last. All she needed to know was that she and all she did for him mattered. Eventually it all quiets down till all you hear is the hum of the old refrigerator and the whirl of a box fan.

    He struggles in the back room, silently searching his pockets for a coin to pay the ferryman.

     

  • All thru the night…..

    No call went out, yet we all gathered tonight to sit vigil with my mother at the bed side of my father as he slips further away.

    I didn’t think I could go to the back of the house and into the spare room where he lay curled up on a hospital bed. I told myself I was here for my mother. She shuffled back and forth from the front room to the back. One time carrying his next morphine dose another time a cool rag to sooth the fever that racks his body as it tries to shut down.

    My youngest brother came and I pointed to the back and said, “You can go back, it’s okay. Wanda is with him.” he choked back an answer and just shock his head no. He couldn’t do it and I understood.

    My older brother kept milling about back and forth, sitting in one chair and then another. Room to room we all seemed to pivot  avoiding the obvious as best we could and making small talk about this and that.

    My sister -in-law look at me as if to ask if I had taken my turn yet….I shook my head no. But again said ,”feel free to go back, Wanda is there.” I then realized my mother was in the room and that Denver was alone. I took Olga’s hand and she gripped it tightly. Silently we walked down the narrow hall to the spare bedroom together. His breath labored and infrequent, he seems so slight and fragile. Not at all the giant and imposing figure he has been all my life. There was a softness I had never seen before. And I knew then that I could do this. Not that I should,  but that I COULD.

    The hours pass by and we convinced Wanda to go lie down. She is afraid to relax too much or even sleep but she knows she must. The men we sent to rest at their own homes. We sit up, we women. Cleaning and shuffling about and listening. Waiting.

     

     

  • The Test of Time…..

    For the third time in 30 yrs a rag-tag group of artists, musicians and actors will gather to share some “rock star” stories and fun in the sun.  The site of this years mischief is Surfside, Texas. Right on the beach. Aghhhhhhhh. Let me hear an amen!

    Some folks are flying in and some are driving and I suspect I would crawl if I had to. We will pay homage to our ill spent youth and our high school Drama teacher,  Ma Bell, who I am thrilled to say will join us again. We will dine on fresh seafood and devour copious amounts of margaritas and sing till we can’t utter a sound. Then we will get up and do it again…and again till they make us go home on Sunday.

    I’m not sure what it is that has been the glue to keep us all so connected except to say – sometimes a teacher can give you more than a good schooling. They can give you life, a foundation that can be built upon for years. It’s not what we learned in class as much as it was what we learned thru the many hours of rehearsals and shows. We learned about ourselves and each other in ways that go beyond any class room in the country. We learned who we were and who we wanted to be and how to get there. We learned that regardless of what our circumstances may be – we could always write an alternate ending.

    I  learned I was not an island. I had to trust others like my director and fellow performers. I learned to reveal my most vulnerable parts because an audience really can tell when you’re faking it. I became aware of the fact that everything has a beginning, a middle and an end and no matter what.  The show must go on! .  There are no small parts, only small-minded people. The small-minded people have fallen away from the group and the foundation remains. All, still, just a phone call or click away when any of us need a friend.

    We’ve all needed some shoring up from time to time. Times are hard. Life is hard….but we have stood the test of time. Being there for each other just gets easier and easier.

    SO I am OFF this afternoon. Car packed and ready to go, just waiting for the proverbial “work whistle” to sound that the day is done. I’ll drive down at sunset and what a grand drive it will be.

    I love each and every one of you…but this weekend I love a crazy group of Artists, Actors and Musicians and one special teacher just a tad bit more.

    Juliana

    Copyright 2011 Juliana Wathen