Gut Wrenching, Horrible-Still Looking for Answers

This summer-unforgettable, traumatic, no words to describe. The summer started easy enough. A short three week stint at the local college, getting paid to go to school and learning a little bit more about science. Lots of fun.
Then, the last week of school my grandmother's sister became really sick. They said she had a heart attack in church. She spent the week in the hospital. A few days in ICU. Then she was stable enough and doing well enough to go in a regular room. I brought my grandmother up to see her every night. Feeling tired but devastated, wanting to make sure my grandmother had an opportunity to be with her. On the Wednesday (I think), my cousin called and said my aunt wanted to hear my uncle play his guitar, could he please go to her hospital room that evening and play. He did. I couldn't stay in the room. I thought it was too difficult. Knowing what I thought she knew was near. It was just too difficult.

As we finished school that Friday, I was so excited. Finally, the summer was just beginning. In the meantime, my grandfather's health had been getting worse. He was having trouble walking. Falling sometimes. We had called home health so that he could be offered services at home. The doctors had said he had arthiritis and it was causing him a lot of pain. My mother-in-law was also not doing well. She couldn't walk around anymore, needed help going to the restroom, and wasn't going to dialysis like she needed. She had come and spent a weekend with us at the beginning of the summer. Her and I woke up early in the morning and talked, just us, alone. I made coffee for her and toast bread. Gave her medicine (she took out the ones she didn't like). She told me she loved me and she knew I loved her family. It felt good and scary at the same time. Ever since I began to date her son, she had always seemed to like me. Then after our trip to Vietnam, there were things only her and I could talk about. Like we had a secret no one else understood. Seeing her unhealthy was hard, it was really overwhelming to realize she couldn't do all of the things for herself that she could before and how incompetent we were in helping her.

On that Friday afternoon, someone called and said she had threw up and passed out. I went to the trailer, then to the hospital, waiting with my brother-in-law. The doctor called us, said she had a stroke and there was bleeding in her brain. He said call the family. I think I refused to believe him at that point. It couldn't happen yet, not now. That evening they transferred her to Thibodaux, did surgery to relieve the blood in her brain, and then she was stable. The doctor seemed encouraged. No, she may not come home like she was but she could get better. It wasn't her time yet. We went home that morning about 2am. At about 6am, my aunt passed away.
On Monday, they buried my aunt. On Monday, I helped my grandfather walk to the restroom-he fell. I put him in the bed-he slept alot. The doctor's office called and said an x-ray of his back showed he had only arthiritis. I felt devastated. How could that be. He couldn't walk anymore. He was talking in another language, his words didn't make any sense. And this was arthiritis? I couldn't believe it. I told him I loved him that day and waited to hear the words come back. He said he loved me too.

I had also spent the days going to see my mother-in-law, in the morning, in the evening. Sitting there, talking to her, holding her hand, thanking God for healing her so we could take her home and take care of her. I know God is a miracle worker and I believed he would work a miracle on her. As the week went on, she began opening her eyes, and squeezing our hands. Every movement felt like a mountain, so encouraging. One day she played with a little cup my husband put by her hand, she kept trying to grab it with her fingers. We thought that told us she knew what was going on. It wasn't just reflexes. After about a week though, she quit responding. Something changed. My granfather was now paralyzed, waist down at this point. His legs wouldn't work at all. I was spending the days trying to help take care of him.

One week after the stroke, we brought my grandfather to the hospital, he said his chest and his head hurt. My mom called and said he had a mass on his left lung and a brain tumor. Later that day, they did a scan and discovered there was also spots all over his right lung, his colon, his liver, and his tail bone and hip bones had totally detoriated-gone, mush. That explains why he couldn't walk. I guess it took over the arthiritis!

By Wednesday, he couldn't eat anymore, he couldn't swallow. We were begging for pain medicine, not wanting him to hurt at all. He went to sleep and for the next week, every now and then he would wake up. Sometimes he would try and talk to us, sometimes he would just make funny faces, letting us know he knew who we were. On Saturday, they took my mother-in-law off of the machines and put her in her own room. We went to see her that night. I only stayed a minute. It was harder than I had thought it would be. I was still waiting for her to wake up and talk to me. She passed away about 2:30 that morning. We buried her on Wednesday. Some days I still think she is there, at the trailer, and I miss her so much. Just to hear her talk. Anything.

I can't imagine life without her, even now. It has been one month.

On Thursday morning, the day after burying my mother-in-law, my grandfather passed. I told him that evening before that she had gone to heaven, it was okay now. I loved him. For him to get some rest. The next morning, about 5:30am, he left too. I knew he had been sick and I had prayed for God to take him. I knew he was not living, and was in such pain. But now-there is this unbelievable void, an emptiness that can not be filled. A lost feeling. How do you function when you lose two people that was so significant in your life.

My grandfather, my hero, my world. He knew everything, could do anything, and loved me and my children so much. He never hurt us, not once. Not with words, or actions. Undying love. I keep trying to figure how to live my life without that.

My mother-in-law. I spent endless hours listening to her tell me stories. About Vietnam, my husband, his father, everything. How muched she loved the children. Unconditional love. Just to hear her talk, call my name-like she did, no one else could say it like her. How lost.
Two rocks, one summer, unconditional love.

It's Been Awhile

I can't remember the last time I journaled, or really even thought about something worthy enough to put on the world wide web. Life has been horribly hectic as always, and that makes enjoying life even more difficult. We are moved. There are only a few boxes left, mostly things that we don't need to live. Hannah has made friends, so far her life is nothing short of perfect. Khai rides his bike and makes his own make believe games. I think he enjoys it. I go home to see Maw and Paw everyday. I still miss them so much. When I talk to my grandmaw, she really listens, she always has. I love her and my grandfather so much. We are finished with state testing. The students seemed quiet confident, so I am eager to see the results.
My dear husband definitely enjoys living in the "city", his trips home are evidence of his enjoyment.
I did celebrate another birthday-thirty something. I passed on the whole opportunity to reflect and make sure I am where I want to be and all of that stuff. I figured it would probably send me into a mid-life crisis, so I just didn't do it. I thought it would be better if I was just thankful to be alive, and pretty healthy, with a healthy family, and to feel loved. As the day ended, I felt so loved, from family, friends, coworkers. Then I decided, life is good.
As I look back on all of the posts I have written, I realized that I hadn't mentioned much about my mom or posted her pic too many times. I think she is beautiful. I love her. We have finally reached a place in our life where we can talk calmly and connect. It is the most wonderful experience. My children adore her. She adores them. That is a wondrous blessing. We talk now. She asks me for honesty. I give it. She doesn't get offended. I say things that disagree with her thoughts but she doesn't get angry with me. I try really hard to respect her choices, even if I disagree with them, and try to be encouraging. She gives me support, and correction with direction when appropriate, but she never stops loving me. I guess it is the unconditional love thing, something I have looked for my whole life-I imagine most people do. She really is amazing. I just hope she understands what she means to me. She is MY mom, and that is the best feeling in the world.

My Grandparents

My Grandparents
Originally uploaded by rogenadel.

My grandparents, where to start. Nursing my insomnia, I am drawn back to this day. My grandparents, my grandmother more light hearted, less responsibility, free-er (if there is such a word). My grandfather, seldom unusual, almost always himself, few hints of what is to come, still able to hold a conversation, tell a story, know family and relationships. Today, he is not the same man. He has been diagnosed with in stage dimensia, another word for the dreaded Alzheimer's. In all my logic, I can not think of a pleasant way to view the situation. After going to the funeral of a friend's aunt, she was only 68, and had only known 6 weeks ago that she had cancer, she passed away. So fast, gone, taken away from her family. I sit and look at her family wondering how are they going to survive without her. I can't imagine being so young and living without your mother. Feeling like a lost soul. And then I see my grandfather. And I ask myself, what is more important-the quantity of life or the quality of life? He used to make jokes about fishing. When you would ask him what would he do if he won the lottery, he would say, "Take a fishing pole and go down to Carencro (Bayou)." That was his happiness, down the bayou, fishing. Now he is the man who knows he may not be able to find his way home, so he doesn't go. No fishing, no boat, no bayous. Even though I have said it before, I feel as if I have lost a best friend without ever realizing it. And now that we have moved, I don't wake up and see their home anymore. We have only gone across the river but it feels as if we live in another state. He sits everyday and waits for us to come home. I don't know how people live away from family, I find it gut-wrenching. It makes life so much more empty. Their is no price for the interaction of children (and adults) with other family (especially grandparents). I miss them.

Aliens

Aliens
Originally uploaded by rogenadel.

As I write I realize that I kind of became stuck on my trip. Living a dream, sometimes a person can talk too much. Life in the real world (today) is very hectic. We have finished painting and have started moving, at least half of our belongings. As we move a little more each day, I realize how big the walls are in my house and the rooms. My grandfather hasn't been to visit, I don't know if it is because it makes him so sad or it is his health. He is really having trouble breathing. A smoker his whole life, I am assuming he has emphysema. I know where this is heading but I rather my method of denial. I am tired of boxing, coming to the realization that I have entirely too much "don't use, don't need" stuff. I am determined to cleanse myself of my belongings.
Work is interesting as ever. We are two weeks away from state testing. As it gets closer, I am reminded of the pressure. Do you people feel this type of pressure in other jobs? The students are some of the strongest students I have ever taught. Realistically I am confident that they are going to do great. However, there is always that self question of what if I forgot to teach them something?
Back to the trip.
I have to regress a bit. In the mist of my lifelong dream, an unusual creature emerged. I have to describe my mother-in-law. Ever since the day I met her, she has been the most wonderful person. I have always been amazed by how blessed I am. I have heard horror stories from friends, colleques, etc. about mothers-in-law. But not mine, she was simply an angel. Kind hearted, sweet, loving, compassionate, wonderful. Welllllll, after arriving in Vietnam, getting in the van, with the family. Oh big note here-the van. This was a van, a four row seat van. Probably, normal capacity of 13 (and I think that is stretching it). When we all began to get into the van (after loading 6 pieces of luggage-the big ones), there were 21 PEOPLE!!!!!! It seemed to defy everything possible. And never a word of complaint.
Back to mother-in-law. After being in the van, maybe 10 minutes, she began to fuss, attack, belittle, my oldest sister-in-law. She had told me on the way to Vietnam that she was not happy because the sil had not made her children write letters to their grandmother. I guess that was a sign of disrespect. So, as we have just arrived in the van, the first time she has seen her family in 30 years, she is FUSSING. I could not understand what she was saying but I was able to pick out words here and there enough to gather she was gripping about the letter writing. My sister-in-law just sat there. Never said a word. She actually smiled at me. I looked at her with astonishment. Still, no response. As if I was getting denied a piece of the let me show everyone how much of a queen I am, she then took a couple of yelling spurts at me. In the 16 years I have known this woman, she has never said a cross word to me, raised her voice, nothing that could be construed as hostile, aggravated, nothing. I remember asking her something, she yelled. Began to fuss. I wanted to die, shrink into the floor or blow up. I have never felt such humiliation.
I believed an alien hade overtaken this precious, sweet, kind, angel of a lady that I had always known. And it was just the beginning.
Now, let's skip ahead to some interesting things.
After being in country for a week, I wanted to visit my friend, my coworker. She was definitely a lifeline. The only person besides my alien mother-in-law who could speak english. And I was hoping she could enlighten me on what had overtaken my mother-in-law. My nephew took me to visit her. Her family lived in Vung Tau, right on the coast. Beautiful homes, I then really realized how poor my family was. There is a huge gap in living standards. While at her family's home, they came in with these creatures. A shrimp like, sort of creature. I call them aliens. I have never seen anything that they look even slightly similar to. They boiled them. My friend had brought crab boil and seasoning from the states and I ATE THEM! Yes, I ate the aliens. And they were good, very good. At home, I am a bit on the very, very, very conservative side when it comes to food. But, when I touched down in Southeast Asia, I think I was overtaken by something else. I tried everything. And I walked away with some new food discoveries. What I would give right now for mang cut (mangosteen), this wonderfully sweet fruit. They can not be shipped to the US. Can go to Canada but not old US of A. A pity I tell you.

My

My
Originally uploaded by rogenadel.

My Trip Journal continues.
My nephew My (pronounced me), the biggest surprise. Before going to Vietnam, I never thought very much about the family there. We would occassionaly receive pictures, and a phone call to my mother-in-law a couple of times a year but I didn't know any names, just the oldest brother. And I did not even begin to think about the extended family. Was I in for a surprise!
After we arrived, we immediately went to my oldest brother's youngest son's house to get him. He wasn't ready, so we just continued on to Ba Ria. After a few minutes, an older nephew, with another young man, arrived on a motor scooter next to us. In 1994, a niece and a nephew had both gotten married in Vietnam, they had sent pictures to us. I had looked through the pictures a hundred times trying to figure out who was Anh Hue's children (he has six).
There was one young man in the pictures who I could not figure out who he was. He was always smiling, seeming to have the most fun, looked very young, and different.
So, back to the scooter. There on the scooter was the mystery man/boy. I immediately recognized him. I couldn't believe he was Anh Hue's youngest son. His name is My, it means American in Vietnamese. The funniest thing is that he looks American (whatever that means). I guess a better way of saying it is, he doesn't look Vietnamese. He smiled alot.

We continue on to Anh Hue's house in Ba Ria. I can definitely say that first trip was one of astonishment. The traffic, nothing short of pandomonium. Everyone driving, no lanes, no redlights, just a continuous blowing horn to warn people to get out of the way. It was wild!

And the further away from Saigon we got, the more beautiful the countryside. Green, a green like I have never seen in the states. Mountains, beautiful mountains.

After arriving in Ba Ria, we went to find food. Rice and pork chops, the most delicious dish. While Ms. Thi was eating, my nephew took me to an internet cafe, and I had the opportunity to email my family. At this point, I could not fathom that I was actually there.

We went home to Anh Hue's house. And then we all sat around and visited. I just sat and tried to learn everyone's name. There is nothing funnier than an American trying to pronounce Vietnamese names, an American who deosn't speak the language anyway. A family reunion. I sat ther looking at the walls of Anh Hue's house thinking I can't believe I am here.

What a Sweet View!

DSC01743
Originally uploaded by rogenadel.

Since my insomnia is in control, I will keep writing.

We began our airplane trip in New Orleans to Houston to Seattle to Taipei to Saigon. My mother-in-law needed a wheelchair, which made the boarding the airplane very easy. We were always the first to get on and the last to get off. The flights were as fun as flights could be. Feeling that power as the plane takes off, the view, the landing. It was an amazing experience, observing everyone, sleeping on the plane, eating the airline food, all of it. I was meant to be a traveler.

After 27 hours, we arrived in Vietnam. I remember first seeing green when I knew we were over the country, it was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. Even thinking back to it now, it seems as if it was a dream. The airport was interesting. Nothing short of pandemonium, so many people, so many packages/luggage. Crazy. My mother-in-law was in a wheelchair, I had our carry on luggage (all of my cameras included), and trying to find 4 massive suitcases (70 pounds each). It was a bit scary. Oh, and when you enter and go through I guess what is customs for Vietnam, they ask for the address where you will be staying. Guess what? I had no IDEA! I had never wrote down an address, and then facing this man in a army uniform, I felt my blood pressure go up and the sweat begin to pour. Pure blessing, they let us go and said my brother-in-law would have to bring something back to them. Whew!

We made it through the airport and all of the lines. Thankfully for the wheelchair, it provided a bit of a rush. Finally, we were walking out of the doors into a wall of people. I can imagine now what celebrities must feel like, except these people were not cheering, just looking. And then out of the blue, our family came. My sisters-in-law first, they ran to my mother-in-law and then came hug me. I recognized them. And then, I began to make this really weird whimpering sound, like I can't believe this is happening sound. A sound of the purest pleasure and excitement. I don't think I knew what else to do. I was experiencing this journey that I had spent sooooo many days fantasizing about, watching tv of other people experiencing it but it was my turn. At that point, I thing true fear gripped me. I then realized that I could not speak, I could not communicate. For a person that loves to talk, that means death. At that point I had to rely on my travel companion. A companion who was not happy (yes, not happy, if a person can imagine such a thing) and probably having a nicotine fit. So, I broke out with my journal and pen and asked a sister-in-law to write their names-a beginning.

Road in Ba Ria, Vietnam

Vietnam Road in Ba Ria, Vietnam
Originally uploaded by rogenadel.

As I battle my insomnia, I have found that writing feels good. So, I will continue my mind emptying journal of my vacation to the land of everything green. I had my passport, now I could look forward to really going. I began packing, reading, and packing some more. I made a trip and bought huge amounts of candy (I thought the children would really enjoy it), enough cracker snacks for a month (if I ate one a day), towels (surprise, surprise), toilet paper (just a precaution), and medicine. Before I went, my biggest concern was food. My mother-in-law cooks Vietnamese dishes all of the time. However, in the 18 years I have known her, I have only adapted to eating two-pho and spring rolls. I definitely thought I would starve to death. Yes, I know that is a bit close minded but I really had no idea what to expect (was I ever going to be surprised). I packed clothes (to give away)-that was two suitcases.
In retrospect, I realize how much time I spent packing when there were other things I should have been concerned about. One-I did not know how to speak the language and could not understand anything. I knew how to count in Vietnamese and understood the words for "say" and "go". But nothing else. I also did not know anyone's name. I knew my brothers-in-laws' names, but I was mispronouncing that. I should have tried to learn something.
I never thought any where past landing on the ground in Vietnam. I didn't think about what I would do with my days, how I would communicate, getting to know the family, nothing. Just placing my feet on the ground, that would have been enough. I did have one worry-how would my mother-in-law make it through leaving them again and knowing that she would never see them again. Once she left Vietnam, we knew her health would not permit her to return. That thought made me ill, it was very hard to process.
Finally, departure day arrived. Dear husband took me to the airport and daughter came too. I didn't want her to come, I thought it would be too hard to leave her. Son was sleeping, and I kissed him bye. The airport was exciting, just the experience in itself was a journey. Before we left my husband, he told me, " I hope you find what you are looking for." I definitely thought, I hope I do too. Daughter gave me her little blue blanket (it is just a piece of leftover cloth she had gotten from my grandmother when she was very little. She would use it for her baby dolls), and told me to take it just in case I got lonesome. That was hard. I cried. Note-yes, I cry for everything. But I couldn't stop. It was horrible.
Since giving birth to my children, they are what I live for. Sometimes, I second guess myself on just how important they are to me. I know what I think in my head, their well being and happiness is more important to me than anything else in the world. When I left my daughter at the airport, it felt like a 100% confirmation of that feeling. At that moment, I promised myself never to leave her or her brother again. It was just too hard.