Thursday, May 21, 2009


My son, who chose to no longer have a relationship with me after his father and I divorced, may be coming around.

His wife, who also avoided me all these years, emailed me a month ago and asked me if I wanted to ride with her to have my grandson’s pre-op work for his corneal transplant.

My grandson is 8. He was born blind because of chemo and multiple surgeries when his mother was found to have bone cancer during the first three weeks of pregnancy.

I was completely and utterly shocked at this email. Having no idea why I was asked, after all this time, I was very nervous about saying yes but in my gut knew that I would go.

We made that trip this week. It was a wonderful 4 hour drive there. We spent the night and went to visit all the doctors involved the next day and drove home that afternoon. This was my first real interaction with my grandson. He has a sister who I have not been “allowed” to visit as well.

My daughter-in-law and I talked and laughed the entire time. She and my son were high school sweethearts and I knew her like one of my own until my ex-husband did everything he could to turn my son against me during our divorce.

Over the ten years it has been this way, I have learned not to get my hopes up about our relationship being put back together, but I have to believe this was a first step.

My grandson will be having his transplant on June 1. Please pray for him and his family during this time. All the trips back and forth will be hard on them financially and otherwise. Pray that the transplant will be successful. I can’t even dream of what it will be like for him to finally see.

Her Mom's Brain

I recently found a new BLOG I have come to love.

The writer is the grown daughter of an Alzheimer’s patient.

She is very open and very honest.
See for yourself.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

I have learned more and more about ignoring my feelings. I've worn that mask for so many years, it goes on each morning as naturally as make-up.

I feel invisible on my job. I don't think my office mates, (who are also my superiors) have a clue what I actually do. They don't seem to "get" that my work sometimes requires being uninterrupted.

My mother doesn't remember the abuse and the severe neglect, or how she threw me out when I became pregnant at 15, she only remembers how long it has been since I called her or visited her last.

My husband doesn't remember the hot sex we had that drew us together in the first place, and now he doesn't want it. He doesn't (?) understand how much I am hurting from this decision, not how tempted I am to rectify it in some other arena.

But I put that mask on, every day, along with my eye liner and mascara.