Thursday, January 26, 2012

Table Manners

When I'm not crying, I'm writing - emails, texts, facebook, posts on the Breast Cancer discussion groups. But my writing is not flowing. It is choppy. It is all over the place.  Even so, I'm going to post it.  I can tweak it later when life becomes simple again. It will get simple again.  It will.





I am awake. The room is dark. My laptop is downstairs. My cell phone is downstairs. I am upstairs in the cats room.

I have made a deal with myself - do NOT, under any circumstances, look at the clock.  Do NOT go downstairs.  Do NOT check your email.  Do NOT engage your mind.

I lie on my back and straighten my body - I am like a corpse in a coffin.

I relax my body. I breath deeply. I talk to Kerry. Please help me Kerry.  Please help me to sleep.

I close my eyes and the nightmares rush in...

I am in the operating room.  A nurse hands me a soft, malleable, mass and tells me to swallow it.  I put it in my mouth, but its too big to swallow.  I try to chew it but it is rubbery and tart.  "What is it" I ask. "It's your heart" she says.  I spit it out.  I hold it in my hand.  It is beating. Strong.  

I wake up screaming.

My hearing has become doglike.  It's more than just being sensitive to noise, I am hearing sounds from the condo below me - three stories below.  We have cement walls and floors and ceilings.  The people below are old and gentle toned.

I hear their phone ring.  I hear their laughter.  I hear their microwave beep, beep, beeping.  I want to yell, "you're food is ready!" but I know they can not hear me.  They are three stories below.

At first, I thought I was losing my mind.  A friend (and lucky for me, a therapist) tells me this is not uncommon for people who are in a depressed state, such as me.  I was worried I would need to be institutionalized. Okay, for a moment there, I was looking forward to being institutionalized. What a nice break that would be.

It is almost 2:00 am.

My father is dying.

We are all dying.

My husband is in our bed and I am in the cats room. It is quieter here.

My eyes are tired but my mind is awake.

I saw the squabbit today - a black, half squirrel, half rabbit.  You say squirrel without a tail, but Jackson and I say squabbit.

He was scurrying across the road, a bit too carelessly. Carefree and bouncy be.

I am happy he is alive. I thought for sure he was dead. I thought the hawk got him.  The same hawk that mistook Miss Lucy - my five pound pup - as prey.  In the middle of the day.  Right outside my office window. While I was only a few feet away.

That hawk swooped and I screamed.  I screamed the hawk away.

That squabbit made me smile!  I saw him right before I picked up Jackson. Jackson and I have resumed our Wednesday morning ritual of breakfast, at the diner, before school.

That squabbit gave me the "what's new" answer that Jackson asks for when he greets me. "What's new Nanny?" is always the second thing he says.  He begins with a bright, beaming, "HI!!!"

"I saw the squabbit!" is so much better than catstir, or yet another biopsy, or any of the other new things that swirl around me.

In the booth in front of me are two business men dressed in freshly pressed suits, crisp white shirts, bright ties and polished shoes.  They talk about their jobs - about profits and loss, about sales tactics and trends.  They both order egg white omelets and whole wheat toast - no butter. One adds spinach, the other adds onions and tomatoes.  "Got to look after my health," says the one. "My wife is the healthiest person I know," says the other.  I hate these business men.

Chocolate chip pancakes are Jackson's favorite.  He had three today.  Along with bacon and a tall glass of "white" milk.

"What have I taught you?" I asked Jackson.

"Most of my table manners." he said.

"Anything else?"

"Umm.. nothing I can think of."

I need to teach Jackson more things.

I need to prepare my fathers eulogy.

I need to find his safety deposit key.

I need to take care of me.





38 comments:

  1. Hi Shannon...Greetings from portland. Speaking from my own experance when my life has gone bat-shit crazy (and it has) I have to keep things very simple ie: eat, sleep (very important), bath, and after those things are coverd I find some non destructive fun, then with whatever energy I have left I take care of the more complicated things. Ask for help, or accept the help that is offered to you. And find at least one positive thing to focus on when things get overwhelming.

    Laugh hard and often
    scream when necessary
    make sure to give yourself room to f^*k up

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    Replies
    1. I certainly have the fucked up part down. See I can spell it too :) you know I suck at spelling. So glad you're able to post. Do you think blogger was punishing me? does that sound crazy...

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  2. Your writing is incredible. Your story is captivating. Your candor is admired. Your strength is inspiring.

    Jay

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    1. thank you jay, my freakishly tall, talented, tolerant, friend. you'll tell me when i'm out of line or if i hold the fire too close. i need that.

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  3. That last line is the most important right now.

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    1. and if I break that line down, one more time.. i know i need sleep. i can't seem to do that for long. i know i probably need a sleeping pill but I don't want to take a sleeping pill. i don't want to take any pills. i don't know what to do about that.

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  4. thank you deanO and thank you for tweaking my fathers picture. i look forward to reading more about whats outside your front door.

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  5. i just added the businessmen i woke up to add the businessmen. i almost forgot about them. they really bothered me but i did my best to focus on jackson

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  6. Breathing deep. One thing at a time. Quiet the monkeys in the head. Easy to suggest--harder to do. Sending you love.

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  7. "me" (you) is the most important part. Your writing is awesome. YOU are awesome!

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  8. It's the rough thing about being a woman, at least for me. We seem to be almost incapable of letting the world stand on it's own two feet. There is so much to DO! The responsibilities, all those balls in the air. We simply cannot let them drop. And then of course we must, and we realize life manages to plough forward without us and someone else manages to do the dishes. Now the Eulogy thing...I don't see you getting out of that one. But someone else can find the key. And Jackson? You're teaching him plenty about courage and humor and the best damn way to shoot through a cluster fuck. And just for the record...I know plenty of people that eat egg white omelets and run marathons and still got Catstir. It's an equal opportunity pain in the ass.

    ((Hugs))

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  9. It's nice that you have Jackson. I'm sure you've taught him plenty, it's infused in him now. That's why he can't identify it .

    There's so much going on, but yes you have to focus on yourself.

    I send you my affection, and so many positive thoughts.

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  10. Yeah Jackson ! yay for the squabbit...and good for you...much luv

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  11. Processing.....Hit's close to home. Usually when you're in this state there not a fucking thing anyone can say that helps. Lived a big part of my life like that. Not fun. Smartass remarks like I usually offer just piss you off.
    Near as I can tell you're a wonderful creative person. The world can't live without you. Sorry, you're not done doing. I promise it gets better, then it gets worse, then it gets better and so on. It's called life. You are so special. Oh the places you'll go.

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  12. Yup... the closing sequencing is wrong. You need to be first... you must be first.

    I wrote my father's obituary. I think it's one of the neatest things I've ever written... I need to find it and post it in my blog. There was something healing... or therapeutic about writing it...

    Crazy squabbit... Trix are for kids... On my way to work on morning, I saw a kite (member of the hawk family) flying madly about a tree... turns out that he was chasing a squirrel around and around the bole of the tree... the squirrel had the speed, but, that kite sure had a sharp turning radius...

    Once upon a time, I was one of those fellows in a suit and starched shirt... and I realized one day that I really wasn't enjoying Life. I traded in being a stock broker for teaching in the university system...

    My quality of Life soared...

    Thinking of you, Monkey Girl...

    ~shoes~

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  13. I once praised my 9-year-old new stepdaughter for some wonderful trait, saying she had gotten a good attitude from her dad. "I got it from myself," she said decisively. At 35, she knows she got much of her strength and integrity from her dad, just as Jackson will realize what he learned from you. For now, he simply owns it as his own. What could be better?

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  14. In my opinion, this post is visceral, not choppy. I felt like I was inside your head, riding along with you as you deal with life. Great writing.

    Oh, and re not looking at the clock: I've had menopausal insomnia for eons, and a few years ago, I decided to turn the bedroom clock around so I could not see what time it was. It has remained in that position, and it's very freeing not to have the time staring at me! You may want to try that.

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  15. Spot on jackson. What a vivid dream! I would so rather be at your table at the diner than theirs....u taught Jackson much more than table manners. Too much to say in the little tine you had with him! Gotta go to where the boom bands are playing....

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  16. Spot on jackson. What a vivid dream! I would so rather be at your table at the diner than theirs....u taught Jackson much more than table manners. Too much to say in the little tine you had with him! Gotta go to where the boom bands are playing....

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  17. Ahhh Monkey, the simple pleasure of sleep...a nightmare board is what we need to exorcize those demonz!!!!!!!!!!!!


    Under control....


    xoxoxooxox


    MG

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  18. Only you write the way you do, I trip, swirl, sink in your words.

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  19. Do take care of yourself. I'm sorry to hear of all you're going through. I'll keep you in my thoughts. Hugs.

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  20. Sorry for the abscence. I brought hugs to make up for it :)

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  21. Really saddened to hear about all you're going through. Please take care of yourself before trying to take care of everything else.

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  22. Hope you're doing okay. My BFF goes into surgery for her cancer on the 12th. I'm praying for you both!

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  23. I hope to write soon. my heart is weak and sad and lonely. lots of missing holes.

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  24. Hey Sunshine... please know you have people out here that care about you and your well-being...

    *huggles*

    ~shoes~

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  25. Hey Shannon....I noticed you didn't have anything new posted in a while, so I headed on over here. As always, you are such a "real" and "true" person. You lay it all out there for us to read and feel and learn and know....We are all your "Jacksons". Sending you Blissful Karma and some Kick Ass strength to tell that bad old catstir to get the hell out of your body and out of your life. Hugs...

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  26. oh shannon. i'm a stone's throw, an email away. just know that. if you want my extra soft special blanket, i will leave it at your door. if you need starbucks, i will leave it in your mailbox. if you want the construction guys to shut up, i will go yell at them. if you want to shout and scream at the smoking tree assassin downstairs i will GLADLY do it with you. if you want to look in our river for the rumored giant turtle -- our own sasquatch - i will look with you. sleep, rest, try to eat. i hope you are cozy and warm, and feel how many people are with you. - anni

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  27. Checking in on you, Sweetpea.... Sending lots of love your way.

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  28. You seem to be at your best these days... something about panic that puts us there, eh? You are officially added to my prayer list, whether you like it or not. Endure, lady.
    K

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  29. Hello Shannon, my heart is weak, sad and lonely too, one missing hole. And reading you say about your heart makes mine more so.

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Thank you for encouraging my JOY of writing. By reading and commenting you are feeding my soul, stroking my heart, and in the end...making me a better writer.

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing

Thank You For Encouraging My Joy of Writing
greenmonkeytales@live.com

Shannon E. Kennedy

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