Had lovely surprise on Thanksgiving, with family member, spouse, newly-teen son visiting. Brought a delicious turkey meal from restaurant where they had dined. Stayed to visit for awhile, and I so enjoyed and appreciated every minute.
I had to laugh later, thinking of pne who is struggling some to overcome how difficult her very elderly mother--irritable, impatient, with various trigger-point personality idiosyncrasies all the more present in suffering a slow decline, certainly expected in someone over 96.
The problem is, temperament plays a part no matter how old. If quite old, the unknowns are still unknowns, and the frustrations still frustrations; if one is unwell, then all else the more, increasingly so.
I've been told not to call the aunt. She sometimes makes these pronouncements. I had sent a notecard. I understand how exhausted she feels; she says does not have energy to answer phone or write her own checks or put ornaments on her tree. Yet she is not agreeable to letting her daughter help. I can comprehend; and I again remind the one that her mother is more of the personality tendency we recall of a couple of her siblings, more high strung.
But the one had said when going to visit her mother in the nursing home, that she really does not have much to talk about; her mother has her ailments to go over, despite being what anyone would and could expect at that age. And then there is the desire to try to do something about the dizziness, when really, there is little to be done. The doctor explained as well as he could, this can happen when nearly 100.
So I mentioned that I feel empathy for my family, as it must have seemed to them they were, also, visiting me in my "nursing home", and trying to figure out conversation, after the usual issues of my back pain, nausea, vertigo, lack of motivation due to simply feeling so ill (such as the case again today). Nausea debilitates.
I mentioned to the one that what she struggles with regarding her mother helps remind me, although much younger and do strive to not go on about my pain, that I am already to my family the same effect of difficulty she feels in visiting her mother.
So we laughed about that--how I'm basically in the same boat, if not worse, than her mother. I reminded the cousin we must just keep praying for her mother, and pray that we do not live that many years, or if so, pneumonia might come along and be our friend.
(It is said of older people who have cancer, that "pneumonia can be their friend," meaning it is better to be able to die of pneumonia, quickly, than to keep on with the usual slow-cancer progression in people advanced in years. The body cells, including the cancer cells, reproduce more slowly in older people than in young, depending on type of cancer, of course.)
I know how irksome when I cannot make a decision. That is a trigger for my family, of how I am--one of many my irksome qualities. They could only understand if they were in my body, such as recently, especially with the pain and this wretched nausea--demoralizing my thoughts and threatening stamina to keep going.
My mind simply cannot currently make a simple decision on color or type of gifts I had in mind for the grandchildren, as I don't even really know if the grandchildren would like these items. And they cost quite a bit--but not so much to those who have been able to work in careers, earn, save, and spend, accustomed to the world's various item costs and rising prices.
For whatever reason, the pain and nausea have me "stuck," uncertain, insecure, feeling as if I cannot begin to compete with normal others, in any realistic way of being functional and productive and connected. It is distressing in other ways, worse than physical pain at times, of no texts or calls returned from a family member, and not really knowing why not. Perhaps, as with my cousin per her mother, the thought of me irritates, upsets, so no response. Or not; perhaps--and this concerns me more--something not well or right in their lives of work, children, spouse.
Between the nausea and the pain, and feeling irrelevant and seem to others and myself as if not trying hard enough to improve or be productive, discouragement sets in regarding what might at least be a little worthwhile in writing blog posts. Of course, I know I must not wilt or droop to temptation of discouragement. Maybe tomorrow I will not have the nausea or pain level, and I will be able to simply make gift decisions, and go for a walk.
And now, despite all the inconsequential rambling above, for what is of worth to read, I will share the following commentary written by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. It is about suffering and the cross--and the crosses we are given. This theme connects, I pray, with my above ramblings of thoughts and marginal efforts in coping with on-going pain, the painful loss or seeming futility it can cause in relationships. This is a reminder to not be discouraged--that there is value in suffering--and that God indeed does allow us certain crosses for certain of His reasons.
So from a General Audience, here is what Pope Benedict said regarding St. Andrew following Christ until death.
"...A later tradition...tells of Andrew's death at Patras, where he too suffered the torture of crucifixion. At that supreme moment, however, like his brother Peter, he asked to be nailed to a cross different from the Cross of Jesus. In his case, it was a diagonal or X-shaped cross, which has thus come to be known as 'St. Andrew's cross.'
"This is what the Apostle is claimed to have said on that occasion, according to an ancient traditions...: 'Hail, O Cross, inaugurated by the Body of Christ and adorned with his limbs as though they were precious pearls. Before the Lord mounted you, you inspired an earthly fear. Now, instead, endowed with heavenly love, you are accepted as a gift. Believers know of the great joy that you possess, and of the multitude of gifts you have prepared. I come to you, therefore, confident and joyful, so that you too may receive me exultant as a disciple of the One who was hung upon you.... O blessed Cross, clothed in the majesty and beauty of the Lord's limbs!... Take me, carry me far from men, and restore me to my Teacher, so that through you, the one who redeemed me by you, may receive me. Hail, O Cross; yes, hail indeed!'
I realize that many people do not comprehend suffering to the point that I describe or of that which I complain so often. Daily I must pray and spiritually work myself through this particular phase; I no longer have young children or even the motivation of striving to endure for them, or to strive as an example for them or others. I yet must leave a witness, a victorious legacy of how to suffer even if not heroically or even well at all, but to suffer through to a natural end.
Last night I was certain that today I would be able to make myself go for a walk, at least. But I was not thinking I'd have nausea yet again, nor to this degree, nor to the steepness of the lumbar pain when up with the brace on, doing tiddly tasks, or that I'd let the non-responsiveness of the one family member eat away at my inner reserves. Rejoice that the other two responded to my simple desire to reach out, am thinking of them, inquire, wish their day well. Keep praying for the well-being of the one who may be busily stressed, ill, some personal trial, or simply not desiring communication.
Yes, this situation of suffering is long, unpredictable in effects. I must keep praying and striving to whatever otherness feasible, beg God's grace and mercy.
All I can do tonight, now that darkness has descended, mercifully, at daylight's end, is to remain on the icy pad and be in bed. Yes, it is very difficult to embrace the cross the Lord has presented to me, with its many sharp and painful, quite-large splinters. I need His help to climb upon this cross, to proclaim, "Hail, O Cross!," and to do so joyfully, and to accept all this and various other painful splinters--this cross as God's gift.
God bless His Real Presence in us! Let us love God in Himself and all others, no matter all else.
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