I have been in Richmond the last 2 of 5 days. In that time, I met with yet another elder law attorney, interviewed former neighbors with the prosecuting attorney in preparation for the criminal trial, and met up with Clutter Cleaners at the house on both occassions. I also handled some issues with my realtor related to preparing the house for sale. An investment company has made an offer on the house that I have accepted. It is now waiting for the final approval of the Commissioner of Accounts.
If you are looking for encouragment, skip this journal, I'm unloading some grief today... :)
As everyone knows, I wear my heart on my sleeve. More so now than ever. I can plug along tending to all of my responsibilities with the highest level of professionalism and efficiency as long as I have to. Unfortunately that energizer bunny in me can't run like that forever. I have noticed my emotional lows can be as predicable as an upcoming eclipse...we know when those are coming based on the placement of the sun, moon, and Earth. Some of my "eclipses" last just a few minutes before I return to my optimistic, sunny self. Others last for hours when the darkness of a days events or even a difficult conversation blocks the light within me. Those are hard times for they seem to last so long that I nearly forget what that light even looks like. Sometimes those dark times seem so dense that I can hardly find my way.
The seemingly mundane tasks that I have been dealing with in Richmond have been difficult. Not while I am there- I can get through almost anything. Sometimes, I process things as I drive back to Charlottesville and I'll cry the entire trip. Other times, I am too distracted by what's on the radio or conversations on my cell to process the days activities...so I fall apart later as was the case last night.
I find myself willing to go to Richmond for the chance to be at the house...one more time. I'm content to just sit on the front porch steps and think....and when raining, to sit in my car at the top of the driveway. I imagine how steep my brother and I once thought this driveway was...I look at an old concrete lion and remember that we said that was a hurdle when we raced across the yard....If I sit in silence long enough, I can almost hear the sound of splashing in the pool...I can almost smell homemade banana pudding...I can almost convinve myself all of this really isn't happening....
While in Richmond these last 2 trips, I saw the house being gutted. While there, I watched workers in and out carrying tubs of debris and with it, tons of memories of what was or what could have been. An offer to buy the house translated into another loss, another good-bye; things will never be the same, there is no turning back, no matter how tight my grip...no matter how much I try to will it differently.
Interviews with neighbors revealed how so many people were either suspicious or knew of the horror behind the walls at 1926. But they, like me and other family members, had their hands tied. They too were reporting their concerns to no avail. It seems many of us, at different times, were pouding on a brick wall for help when it took a ball-n-crane to expose what was really happening. I was touched by the concerns of others and grateful that they hadn't looked the other way...yet frustrated it took a catastrophy in order to make progress.
I found myself explaining what was perceived as my grandparents ill behavior as actually typical of the initial decline with dementia and alzheimer's. I wanted them to understand the disease like I do now. I found myself telling their former neighbors about how they are now- doing well, getting healthy, content, peaceful, happy. They are no longer fearful, defensive, even biligerent...because they are safe and cared for. I wanted so badly to convey who they are now so that perhaps this is how they will be remembered. I have heard countless times that my grandparents refused, quite loudly, any help that was offered to them in the months before their removal from the home.
These reports were initially troublesome to hear. Now, I get it. My grandparents were so unaware of their poor quality of life and the dangers of their environment that when someone offered a solution, they were absolutely insulted! I have even heard my grandmother say, "I have a beautiful house" or "I know how to 'keep house'." To accept help would have meant aknowledging there was a problem. They couldn't see it. The only person who could have helped or bettered the situation is now in jail for refusing to do just that. And though he must face the consequences of his negligence and though I am at times angry for what he didn't do, I am equally saddened for him. I can't imagine carrying the burden of his choices.
As I made my way across town to the realtors office, I thought about growing up in Richmond. I passed by my other grandmothers neighborhood and thought of her. I realized for the first time that I was with both of my grandmothers when they were taken from their homes of 50+ years. Seems unusual. For Etta, it was removing her from a horrific environment. For my other grandmother, I helped carry her frail body out of her room and into a hearse the morning she took her last breathe. This after 4 months of caring for her as she died from cancer. While I take pride in having these intimate relationships with these women, the pain of these losses and other losses still sting especially when I'm in Richmond.
Its a lot to take in. So, when I find myself struggling like I am tody, I can always find a thread of peace in knowing someone will light my way when I can't. God has always provided that for me...through this and other trials. I think of the incredible supports that have been placed along this path who have helped carry me...you know who you are and I pray God's abundant blessings upon you...
Something we can all take to heart...
A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.
When we give of ourselves, nothing is truly lost.
When one candle lights another, its light is not diminished.
In fact, the light given off together is greater than the light of one.
If you are looking for encouragment, skip this journal, I'm unloading some grief today... :)
As everyone knows, I wear my heart on my sleeve. More so now than ever. I can plug along tending to all of my responsibilities with the highest level of professionalism and efficiency as long as I have to. Unfortunately that energizer bunny in me can't run like that forever. I have noticed my emotional lows can be as predicable as an upcoming eclipse...we know when those are coming based on the placement of the sun, moon, and Earth. Some of my "eclipses" last just a few minutes before I return to my optimistic, sunny self. Others last for hours when the darkness of a days events or even a difficult conversation blocks the light within me. Those are hard times for they seem to last so long that I nearly forget what that light even looks like. Sometimes those dark times seem so dense that I can hardly find my way.
The seemingly mundane tasks that I have been dealing with in Richmond have been difficult. Not while I am there- I can get through almost anything. Sometimes, I process things as I drive back to Charlottesville and I'll cry the entire trip. Other times, I am too distracted by what's on the radio or conversations on my cell to process the days activities...so I fall apart later as was the case last night.
I find myself willing to go to Richmond for the chance to be at the house...one more time. I'm content to just sit on the front porch steps and think....and when raining, to sit in my car at the top of the driveway. I imagine how steep my brother and I once thought this driveway was...I look at an old concrete lion and remember that we said that was a hurdle when we raced across the yard....If I sit in silence long enough, I can almost hear the sound of splashing in the pool...I can almost smell homemade banana pudding...I can almost convinve myself all of this really isn't happening....
While in Richmond these last 2 trips, I saw the house being gutted. While there, I watched workers in and out carrying tubs of debris and with it, tons of memories of what was or what could have been. An offer to buy the house translated into another loss, another good-bye; things will never be the same, there is no turning back, no matter how tight my grip...no matter how much I try to will it differently.
Interviews with neighbors revealed how so many people were either suspicious or knew of the horror behind the walls at 1926. But they, like me and other family members, had their hands tied. They too were reporting their concerns to no avail. It seems many of us, at different times, were pouding on a brick wall for help when it took a ball-n-crane to expose what was really happening. I was touched by the concerns of others and grateful that they hadn't looked the other way...yet frustrated it took a catastrophy in order to make progress.
I found myself explaining what was perceived as my grandparents ill behavior as actually typical of the initial decline with dementia and alzheimer's. I wanted them to understand the disease like I do now. I found myself telling their former neighbors about how they are now- doing well, getting healthy, content, peaceful, happy. They are no longer fearful, defensive, even biligerent...because they are safe and cared for. I wanted so badly to convey who they are now so that perhaps this is how they will be remembered. I have heard countless times that my grandparents refused, quite loudly, any help that was offered to them in the months before their removal from the home.
These reports were initially troublesome to hear. Now, I get it. My grandparents were so unaware of their poor quality of life and the dangers of their environment that when someone offered a solution, they were absolutely insulted! I have even heard my grandmother say, "I have a beautiful house" or "I know how to 'keep house'." To accept help would have meant aknowledging there was a problem. They couldn't see it. The only person who could have helped or bettered the situation is now in jail for refusing to do just that. And though he must face the consequences of his negligence and though I am at times angry for what he didn't do, I am equally saddened for him. I can't imagine carrying the burden of his choices.
As I made my way across town to the realtors office, I thought about growing up in Richmond. I passed by my other grandmothers neighborhood and thought of her. I realized for the first time that I was with both of my grandmothers when they were taken from their homes of 50+ years. Seems unusual. For Etta, it was removing her from a horrific environment. For my other grandmother, I helped carry her frail body out of her room and into a hearse the morning she took her last breathe. This after 4 months of caring for her as she died from cancer. While I take pride in having these intimate relationships with these women, the pain of these losses and other losses still sting especially when I'm in Richmond.
Its a lot to take in. So, when I find myself struggling like I am tody, I can always find a thread of peace in knowing someone will light my way when I can't. God has always provided that for me...through this and other trials. I think of the incredible supports that have been placed along this path who have helped carry me...you know who you are and I pray God's abundant blessings upon you...
Something we can all take to heart...
A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle.
When we give of ourselves, nothing is truly lost.
When one candle lights another, its light is not diminished.
In fact, the light given off together is greater than the light of one.