Kseniya Simonova - Sand Animation (Україна має талант / Ukraine's Got Ta...

Hmmmm?

NO REST FOR THE WICKED!

     Park is out of my house, but is not out of our lives. He tells Roberta that he now looks with regret at his behavior. He remembers fondly even the mattress where he slept in her room. Now he doesn't have a place to sleep!
     He went to L.A. with his brother-in-law. They stopped by our place on the way to drop off a wheel chair that they borrowed a few months ago. Park was too proud to knock on our door, so he knocked on the glass sliding door in Roberta's room. She is 81 years old, and it took her a while to push stuff away and open the door. By that time, Park was annoyed. He pushed her roughly aside, and she fell on an end table with lots of little jars and what-nots on it. 
     She told me about it only in the morning. Her bottom hurts, but it could've been much worse. She could've landed on the floor and fractured a bone!
     I don't want him in my house. No matter, what regrets he has or my pity for his situation: he can't control his temper. She is ten years older than him, what is he thinking, pushing her around?!
     Today he called to say that he will stay in L.A. longer. Roberta came out to tell me that, and we both cheered up at the news. But will she be willing to tell him to stay away, if he returns? They say: love is blind. In this case, I say: it's also stupid!
     And then, what do I know of love? May be, it's better to have a person to adore in that way than not to?
     Even as I wrote this, I thought that I was being stupid. Love is love, but investing oneself into an unequal, unsafe relationship is another. She might feel better that, there is someone of her own nearby, but she always has to feel threatened by him and manipulate him into behaving better. There is no integrity in this, no peace!

A DAY OF FRUSTRATED PLANS AND GUILT TRIPS

     I didn't do anything that I planned to do today. Oh, I did plenty, but not the most important stuff that had to be done!
     Sonny did not get up to go to school again. Since it was the day, when our handyman, Eugene (or Evgeniy in Russian), had to take us to buy flooring for the room, where my niece will be staying, I didn't mind much, that Sonny skipped class. I could use his support and brute strength! Besides, he had to be the one to get all the bags, boxes and miscellaneous junk from that room to prepare it for construction. I, in turn, would sort things out and tell Sonny, where to put them.
     That was the plan. Sonny listened to it calmly at 12 noon, when he, finally, got up to have a drink of water. He then walked back to his room, got in bed and did not appear until about six o'clock in the evening. I yelled at and threatened him, of course,      during the course of the day, but he was not dissuaded from his chosen preoccupation with computer games and YouTube videos.
     I was left with stacks of boxes and clothes that were brought to me yesterday. I dealt with them, made meals and all important phone calls, but not the one to the Weight Management Program. I need to clarify for myself, what I want to say and achieve with them! 
     I then found a letter. It was an old one: from my best friend in Russia. It was, actually, a New Year's greeting card. Judging by the address to which it was sent, I must've received it ten years ago. I since lost her address in Moscow. By the way, if you know Tatiana Luchkova in that city or, for that matter, another,  please tell her that I remember and love her just the same. I wrote and sent out a letter to the address that was on an envelope, but I realize that, she might've moved from there! That was interesting: I had a chance to visit my memories of her and our days in school (we were in the same class from the first to the tenth grades). I also visited my sense of guilt for not keeping in touch. I guess, it was inevitable that we stopped writing in these many interfering years, but she was a big part of my life in Russia. I know people who never forget to write, even when the connection of heart is lost. What makes me so careless with people that I love?
     Anyway, it turned out that this soul searching was not in vain! My other friend called (a Thai lady from Louisiana), and we spent a couple of hours on the phone, talking about her life and problems. My guilty conscience dictated that I give her all the time that she needed to dump her worries on me. It was not really so: we just talked, and I gave her some advice. When we were missionaries together, she was 26 and I was her very wise 32 years old leader. She was just a kid to me then. Now she is 50, and I am going to  become 56 in a few days. The difference in our ages stopped to matter anymore, but she still listens to my advice (perhaps!).

     The day passed into an evening; our would-be handy-man didn't call. I already gave up on the idea of going to buy flooring with him and started to make the next meal, when he called. We made plans to do our shopping tomorrow. 
     Today was the Al Anon day. My foot was reacting to all the activity and walking that I did that day. I decided not to go. Hopefully, I will feel better next time.
     Sonny went and bought a pie. We used to have a Family Night on Wednesdays, since it's the day when Taka comes home early. When I began to go to Al Anon meetings, that tradition was abandoned. Today we had a berry pie and talked a little bit. I don't regret skipping Al Anon and having good time with my family.
What I should regret, is having pie. Not only was it against my diet regiment, but also made my blood sugar spike to amazing heights. And that was really stupid of me!

MY - HIGHER - POWER

     My life is a chaos. I don't know, if that's the right word to use, but it seems like a right choice at this moment. I started to, finally, take care of myself and look for footholds in my life to do so. I began therapy, started a Weight Management Program and exercising in the pool with my friend. It looks rosy, doesn't it? 
     Besides not having enough will power to stick to my diet and exercise, we are now running out of money! I know: I know, we are going to have a lot of expenses with preparing for my Japanese niece's coming and staying with us and with two kids in college! I bet you, when Hanah comes for the summer vacation, she will say that, she needs money for the new school year...
     I decided last week to drop the diet Program. The money that Taka prepared for it is gone. There seemed to be no other way to deal with this situation. I also have to take Prednison for gout. It's a very effective steroid medication, that, at long last, began to help with unending pain and inflammation in my foot. Unfortunately, it's the same drug that made me gain weight when I was a teenager! So, even if I continue the Weight Management, I will have something in my system to counteract all the weight losing measures!
     How do I get out of this quagmire of problems? When I try to discuss it with Taka, he just gets mad. When it comes to money, he can not be reasonable or even civil. 
     Do I pray enough? Do I kid  myself about my ability to be earnest and serious enough to even approach recovery from many emotional and physical problems that I brought on myself? I need God to step in! I need someone resourceful and levelheaded to help me figure out, what's the best course of action. 
     Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that the diet Program is too important to stop. Recently, I realized that, I have only about twenty, maybe, - thirty more years to live. My mother died when she was seventy nine... I will be fifty six this month! I want to see my children get married, help them, if I can, hold my grandchildren! How am I going to be able to do it if I regain the weight that I lost and become incapacitated by a myriad health problems that come with it? I wouldn't even want to live like that! 
     I have some ideas, how to continue the Weight Management. They may not pan out, but I owe it to myself to try! So, it's time for my optimism burst: I will talk with people on the Program. Perhaps, they can offer me a modified option, when I wouldn't have to pay quite as much for my weight loss. I Might be able to convince Taka then to invest a little more into me. 
     The doctor said that, even though Prednison does inhibit weight loss, once I stop taking it, it's adverse influence will discontinue. So, if I can still trust doctors (it would be a miracle, considering all that they put me and my family through), I will be able to keep losing weight. 
     Most of all, I rely on my Higher Power. And I mean: my power and God's. My - Higher - Power! 

LEAVING

"Ooh-hooh, leaving!"
Stroke, stroke,
Bump-bump.

     The street was endless. It seemed like it's been hours since we boarded a Paratransit taxi in front of the hospital in San Francisco, where my mom, finally, heard her diagnosis. 
     We suspected the worst all along, although I didn't stop dragging her from one doctor to another: "This last test was not 100% reliable. We want you to do something else!.." Couldn't they just let mom have their most revealing exam right from the beginning?! Instead, it took three months to hear the words.
     A small group of would be passengers gathered at the curb . When the taxi arrived, it was a sedan, and all four of us had to get in. Wizened, mean looking old lady pushed her way into a wide front passenger seat. A tall lady in an African dress, my mother and I stuffed ourselves in the back. Cancer and the chemotherapy did not melt away most of mom's weight yet. She and I were of similar generous proportions. The black lady was tall and not skinny either. Even though I let her sit at the door and took the uncomfortable middle for myself, she kept squirming in pain and rhythmically stroking her knee. Mother, although in shock, was throwing resentful looks at the old lady and her, and I knew that, soon some very politically-incorrect pronouncements, reinforced by thick Russian accent, will make everyone even more uncomfortable!
     The driver was a huge Latino man. He dwarfed his seat and the taxi. All we could see of him was the back of his head and neck, with dark-pink rolls of fat covered in short stubble. 
     Paratransit cost almost nothing, but it was a shared ride, and driver had to drop everyone off at different locations. We fought through the midday traffic jam to get on the Bay Bridge, crawled amid other cars, desperate to get out of the City and, almost as soon as we were across the Bay, had to exit the freeway. 
     That's when the song came on the radio. All of us were uncomfortable. The black lady kept trying to move away from my sweaty side, but there was nowhere to go. Stroke-stroke: her fingers knew no rest, touching stubborn aching knee in a constant, pleading motion. My own legs were cramping from being twisted on the bump of the cars' floor.
     "Mmmm, L.A. proved to be too much..." - Gladys Knight's voice was a balm to my nerves. I never paid much attention to that song before, but now it was the only escape from my thoughts and our excruciating ride. 
     A long boulevard stretched before us.  Speed bumps (bump-bump) crossed it every few yards, making the journey even more unbearable. But soon the music, the emotion and the rhythm of the song had us all in their grasp. 
     I saw my mom glancing at me in surprise and realized that I was saying the words out loud. I could see the mean old lady's face in the side mirror. She sat with her eyes closed and soundlessly mouthed the words too. The black lady was silent, but fingers on her knee accepted the new tempo, and her face relaxed. 
     "Ooh-hooh..." -  the pink folds on drivers neck quivered and sang too. It was ridiculous, really, to hear this big man's tiny, soft tenor coming from behind this bulk. It was also oddly comforting.
     The doctor's voice was still fresh in my head: "She has about a year and a half to live with chemotherapy and - about nine months - without it." Before this, I kept telling my mother that, people could live with cancer for years. I guess, it was not to be so! All of us were in pain. 
     I wished myself numb, but the song had a different idea. It replaced my heartache with a beautiful longing:
      "Leaving!.." "I'll be on that train (we know, you will)!" 
     Gladys and the Pips knew what they were doing! Other people's pain was easier to digest, and the promise of love in the story soothed our hearts. 
     "Ooh-hooh, aah-aah!.. I'd rather be in his world, than live without him in mine!" - if only we could keep on driving through that long, wide highway! If only the song could carry us for always! We did not feel resentment for the mean old lady anymore. Mom, the black lady and I meshed, dampened in our common sweat and wrinkled together, as we swayed in the same motion.
     Stroke-stroke, bump-bump...
     Driver tenderly helped the old lady to her door, and she disappeared forever behind some raging rose bushes. I can't recall, if the black lady or we were next to be dropped off. I remember, that she smiled at us broadly, as we parted our ways.

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KEEP CALM!

     Did you read my yesterday's post? I talked about Taka and his "morning sickness" of being cranky. We exchanged a couple of e-mails, where I let him understand my feelings. Mr. P. says that, when I accept the unacceptable behavior and try to pretend that everything is fine, I am, actually, lying to my loved ones. They don't know that something is not right. I pretend and let it go to keep peace in the family, but what kind of a family does it make, if some of it's members feel that it's their right to dump their stress on others?
     Every morning Taka gets ready and after a while turns off the light and leaves for work. Sometimes I am asleep or just in bed at that time. More often I do something in the kitchen or am at the computer. Like I said yesterday, we try to avoid each other in the mornings, since any give-and-take leads to a blow up. Today, Taka came over and gave me a kiss, saying something about an errand that I needed to do for him. I think, he was trying to cover up his admitting that I was right. At least, that's the option I decided to choose. It's a good thing, because otherwise I don't know, how long I can resist doing what comes naturally to the women in my family: