On Sunday, June 19th after I finished my last blog entry, I got in the car with my box of tissues and headed towards the cemetery to visit my father. I wish I had better memories of my father- I mean I do, but the more recent ones which I can’t get out of my head were of him sick and frail. He certainly wasn’t the man that everyone knew towards the end. He was better in some respects- he started to realize what was truly important in life. He started to appreciate his family and people and thanked them for all that they did for him. For the first time in probably my entire life, I heard him begin to tell people he loved them and was proud of them, but all that came too late. His death humbled him and made him more likeable, but his spirit and his liveliness were gone well before his humility took over. It is just a shame that he waited so long, a shame that so many people wait until it is too late to realize what they should have been living for all their years.
I wish I had my father back for just one day or one week. Hell- who am I kidding? I wish I had him back for good or at least for the rest of what his life expectancy should have been. Unfortunately that can never be the case and so on Sunday; I drove to the cemetery thinking back on his final days. I drove to the cemetery wondering where my life was headed. I drove to the cemetery on a magnificent day to sit on a bench and talk to a granite wall instead of visiting my father and doing barbeques and all the other normal father’s day things that most of the country was doing on that day. And I drove to the cemetery with tears streaming from my face, grabbing my Kleenex to wipe my eyes at every traffic light.
First I drove past my old place of employment and not too far down the road, I drove past my fathers last place of employment. The traffic was bad that day and as I was slowly passing by the entrance to where he worked, I remember a year and a half ago turning into the parking lot of his job with the hearse in front and my family and I in the limo that followed. Immediately behind us were the other 10, maybe 15 or so cars that followed in the funeral procession. My father loved his job. Some days I think he loved it more than his own family and he always bragged about how they loved him there. I guess he was right by the outpouring of people that came for his funeral. Some he had worked with or mentored over the years drove through the night from other states to pay their respects. As one last goodbye, we asked his employer if we could drive the funeral procession through the parking lot of his job since it was on the way to the cemetery and they allowed us to do so. He had worked for a newspaper and as we drove through the parking lot, people came out to watch- some stood on the sidewalk, others you could see watching from the various windows that surrounded the building. Every time I pass by his work, I think about how we drove through the parking lot at his funeral. I was thinking that on Sunday as I got stuck in slow moving traffic as I passed the building yet again.
I continued on towards the cemetery and at first I thought I was just imagining things, but it appears as if the traffic was caused by the cemeteries that lined that road. I remember the day of my father’s funeral. The road was similarly packed and as there were a few cemeteries and several different sections of the cemetery on various sides of the road. I recall how half my father’s funeral procession turned left and the other half turned right following the wrong funeral. We lost about 8-10 cars along the way to his final resting place. And as these thought flashed back into my mind, I was not imagining things. The traffic really was caused by the cemeteries. I could not believe what I was seeing but there was actually a line of traffic waiting to turn into the cemetery. As I finally approached the entrance, emotions consumed me. I had already gone through several tissues, but I was in awe at how many people were at the cemetery to visit a loved one. The sadness of knowing that I was not the only one feeling this way and consumed with sadness made me even more upset. There was a whole world of hurt and broken hearted people out there. There was a whole world of people without a father on father’s day out there.
It was absolute madness at the cemetery that day, but as I made my way around the crowds and cars parked just about everywhere, I finally arrived at my destination. I got out of the cars and clenched my box of Kleenex under my arm as I walked towards the section where my father was. It was a beautiful sunny day on Sunday. I came home with sunburn from the little bit of time I was sitting there, yet it might as well have been raining because I was feeling so blue.
I don’t know if he hears me, I don’t know if I am the only one that does this, but I look around to see if anyone is there to overhear me and then I say, “Hi! I came to visit you” and I begin talking. I tell my father what is going on in my life and I tell him about family stuff. I share with him how I am worried about mommy, how his sister is pure evil and I tried to make nice with her. I tell him about his granddaughter that is on the way. I tell him how I am getting married and while he appeared to never approve of anyone, I wish he could have met my soon to be husband. I tell my father how he is so good to me unlike that other piece of crap I married the first time. I go on and on. Sometimes I tell him how I miss him and how it was not supposed to be this way. I assume he is looking down upon me and the rest of the family and keeping us safe and leading us to good things in our life, but I tell him what is going on just in case. All the while I am going through tissue after tissue. And then all the sudden I look up and stop dead in my tracks.
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” “OH, NO, You are not supposed to be there?” “Where did you come from?” “You were not there last time I came!” “No, No, No- that is all wrong- You are not supposed to be there.” And all the sudden my tears of sadness turn to confusion and shock. The shock quickly turned to anger. Trying to make sense of it all, I began counting and trying to recall back to a year and half ago.
I’m not sure if you recall, but when we were deciding which section to bury my father in, we moved him a few times before all was said and done thinking other family members wanted to buy a slot on the wall of the mausoleum that my father is buried in. They held the section for us for 30 days and then payments needed to be made. At the time I wanted so badly to be buried by my father and as sick as it sounds, my great grandparents are buried a few sections over and I just loved visiting them there and for years said that when I die, I wanted to go in a wall like grandma and grandpa. Well the spots are expensive but they give you 9 years of interest free payments to pay them off. If unused, you can sell them back at a later point in time and get your money back. My mother at the time reserved enough for the entire family and then some grandchildren she did not have at the time. She used to joke that she bought almost an entire wall at Pinelawn.
I contemplated the decision at the time, but I had no job. I was unemployed and just couldn’t see spending half a car payment on a mausoleum and so I told my mother with tears in my eyes that I couldn’t afford it at the time. Little by little my sister changed her mind as did my brother but my mother said that it is what my father would have wanted and so she decided to pay for them. At the time I had to talk her out of paying for the entire thing in full with my father’s insurance money, but she has supposedly been paying them off little by little each month ever since. I know that my mother bought the one to the side of my father for herself. I was to get the two below that, another family member the two beside mine and then I think there was one double crypt to the right of that. As a bonus and I am not sure why, I believe she also was making payments on the two immediately on top of my father. I could be wrong, but I recall asking at the time why she needed so many and tried to tell her to not take on that expense…..but she insisted.
Well I am sitting there on Sunday crying, going through my tissues and talking to my father when all the sudden it hits me…… “Who the hell is that?” In the crypt above my father, there is a man- James A Perry 1930-2011 who apparently is taking up residence in a crypt that I am almost positive belongs to someone in my family. “No, No, No…You are not supposed to be there?” “ I’m sorry that you can’t rest in peace, but you need to be moved- you are not supposed to be there.”
I tried my best to ignore it, but it has been eating on my mind for days and it certainly was that day. I was in shock and confused. I was hoping I had my facts wrong and I went from crying to problem solving mode. I was looking around. People were pouring into the cemetery to visit loved ones. This guy was not there two months ago- surely he must have family that is coming to see him. Maybe I should hang out a while and wait and then see if the family bought any of the surrounding plots. Maybe I should go into the office across the street and scream at someone. It was a Sunday- is there anyone even in the office on a Sunday, I thought to myself. I need to call my mother- maybe she forgot to pay for it and they gave the crypt away. I then said out loud, “You see why I am worried about mom- she is a financial fuck up and Mr. Perry is proof of that.” I tried to continue my visit and continue my conversation with my dad, but every now and then I would just stop and say out loud- “I’m sorry, but this is just urking me. He is not supposed to be there. YOU are not supposed to be there.” “He needs to be moved- this is all wrong!” I would then try and continue on, but seconds later I would stop again…. “Where did you come from?” “You are a newbie- you weren’t here two months ago.” “I’m sorry for you and your family, but you will need to go- that does not belong to you.”
My mother was in Connecticut for the day with a friend. I contemplated calling her but did not want to ruin her day or worry her. I would pick up the phone, look at it and then put it down. A few minutes later, I would contemplate the call again. Now I was pissed. No more tears and sorrow for me, I was out for blood. I was going to march right into that office and raise hell but as I have had a tendency to let my temper get the best of me in the past, I decided to hold off on that one until I was certain of the facts. In the end I did call my mother because the suspense was killing me. She said, “Oh My….are you sure? I think we got the bottom ones.” Well if she wasn’t sure, I wasn’t about to go yell at people and make an ass of myself so we left off that she was going to check the crypt numbers and call me back when she got home.
In case you have not figured it out by now, my mother has a sense of urgency about nothing in her life and I mean NOTHING. When I did not hear back, I called her the next day and she still had not checked. She was out but would look into it when she had some time. She swore she was up to date on her payments but I have my suspicions on that one. Long story short- after several repeated calls to my mother, she still has no idea. She found the payment stubs but they do not have the numbers she is paying on listed. I made files for everything, but my mother being the disorganized person she is, managed to make a mess of things and now she can’t locate anything. Some days she gets home from work at 3pm but claims she has no time to call and look into it. I personally have not had a chance to get to my mom’s house and search for the file and contracts I put away and I can’t exactly look into this from work. So as of right now, I still have no idea who James A Perry is, where he came from and where he belongs, but I am almost certain he does not belong there. This saga is to be continued…..
Until I write again……
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Far too much time has passed….
Originally written: June 19, 2011
It has been almost two, maybe going on three months since I have written last. Life has gone warp speed ahead. In addition to things happening a mile a minute in my life, the longer I wait to write, the more I have to catch up on and the more I put it off since I don’t even know where to begin. Truth be told, I have been so busy and the last few months seem to have been one thing after another. Pretty much every second of my time has been accounted for in one way or another. Between personal issues, worry, study, school, exams, fundraisers, family obligations and now wedding stuff. I really am unsure where to start and I feel as if when I write like this, my stories are blah at best. When I first began talking about my life, watching my father die and what it was like to go through that transition, I obviously had much more time on my hands. At the time the writing was somewhat more therapeutic for me. I have since found other outlets to discuss my emotions, however; as a result, I feel as if I do not do my writing justice. My writing started out very impactful for both myself and the select few who read or encountered it. I have for the most part kept my writing a secret. I have maybe 3 follower at best and a handful that stumble upon the blog in cyberspace, but for the most part it has been for me. A chronicle of a portion of my life if you will. There was a time I started writing well before my blog came about, also for therapeutic reasons. I pretty much wrote for 3 years ……every day! Some funny, some sad, some enlightening, some entertaining and some very heartfelt and emotional passages. My goal was to one day survive all that has been thrown my way and write a happy ending. If I had been through it- chances are that others had as well and if I could help or inspire just one person- well then why not.
Well time passed and I had to stop writing. I found myself writing about life instead of trying to live it and enjoy it. I thought one day my life will be in a much better place and I will bridge the gap and write the “happy ending” that you always want to read about in a book. I mean, who pours their heart and soul into a novel only to report that life got worse in the end. Where is the incentive to read that? Well 2 years after I stopped writing, I lost my job, went through a divorce, had to move and then watch my father slowly die before my eyes. I got to a point where writing was my only outlet again and so I started this blog. Over the years, writing has helped me through some very difficult times and had helped me to come to some very interesting realizations. I never plan out my writing- it just flows and from one day to the next, if my plan was to write about the same topic, each entry would be entirely different.
All that being said, are things so horrible in my life right now that I feel the need to write….well No, but I feel this overwhelming sense that I need to catch up and continue this. As someone pointed out, the things I write today may be cherished or important in years to come. And truth be told, I busted my ass in school to accomplish something I personally was so, so proud of, but if I could afford to not work, I really believe my true passion in life would be to write. I think I would find the time to bridge the gap between my former life and my current one and I would absolutely love to write everyday for a living. I doubt I will ever get that chance, but for now, I keep it going because these truly are life changing events that are happing in my life right now and it may be nice to look back one day.
OK, enough rambling….where to begin. Well, I think I left off in March or end of April that I personally was having some health concerns. My blood pressure was a bit wacky and they were sending me for some test to see if I had cervical cancer. The doctor of course said he would call either way with the results and of course they never do. I had to hound him after weeks of worry and he has some secretary or nurse chic call me back. She tells me that they found some abnormal cells and eventually in time they could turn into something to worry about but for right now I am OK and they will just keep an eye on things. Well what the hell does abnormal cells mean and what do you mean they could turn into something to worry about. She was vague at best and as a non- doctor, she probably shouldn’t even have been telling me that. I have no idea what she meant by that or how I was supposed to interpret it. It was almost as if she were saying “enjoy life now before you have to worry later?” OR “You are on borrowed time?” “It is only a matter of time before you do test positive for cancer?” I mean, I was very glad to not have to worry about cancer, but not having a clean bill of health either had me a bit concerned. For right now I just try and put it out of my head and live life the best I can.
I do have to admit though that for weeks I was convinced I would end up like my dad. I was convinced they would have to take half my reproductive organs out. I was convinced my fiancé who is such a wonderful person would be attending my funeral and trying to figure out what to do with all my affairs as my family certainly couldn’t handle it and I was about to move in with him. And in the process of all that had gone on in my former life, I had made peace with the fact that I had always wanted children and never had them. I had in my mind that if I did not have children by the time I was 34, I never would. Well this year I turned 35 and while I truly had made peace with living a childless life (I think)…..the whole experience got me thinking even more. As you read back in January, my brother’s wife who they said could never have children got pregnant unexpectedly. The news of that came as a low blow to me- a reaction I never imagined. Again I made peace with it and have remained indifferent, but the whole death, life, and not medically being able to have children if you wanted them got me to thinking how short life was and that maybe I needed to revisit this topic. I think back in April I had decided that if I was OK, maybe I should consider having a family because life really is short, you never know what it will throw your way and if I wait too long, perhaps it really will be too late- for biological reasons or for medically induced reasons.
And although I came to that realization, my fiancé who is 2 years older than I, seems to have a baby bug like nobodies business. He wants a baby so, so badly and has been pushing me to consider having one. So I go from have a baby while you still can, to him probing on the issue and me feeling that I am too old to start having kids. I think it would be so life altering at this point and financially I just don’t know how people do it. I guess you do what you have to do, but I lived in a life where I pinched pennies, sacrificed everything and I don’t want to go back there. I know that once my brother’s baby is born she will be so cute and cuddly and I will probably want one of my own, but for right now, I want one one minute and see it as the ultimate sacrifice the next. I am a BIG believer in things happening for a reason and that there is a bigger plan for all of us. Perhaps not our own plan, but that there is some sort of higher being that has a plan for all of us. If it was in the cards for me to have a child, I would embrace every moment of it and it truly would be such a miracle and a precious gift, but I am having a hard time consciously making that decision. At this point, it feels almost as if it would have to happen by accident or come as a complete surprise to me- not one I plan for. I go back and forth and I am having such a hard time with this.
I should probably take a step back for a moment and tell you that while it had been my plan to move in May when I finished school and life settled down, I did end up moving much sooner than I had anticipated. By mid April, I had moved into my fiancés home. He lives in a really great area where all the neighborhood kids play in the street. When you walk through the area there are schools nearby and I just think to myself what a great place to raise a family. We have 4 bedrooms and obviously there are only two of us living in this huge house. Some days I look in the back bedroom and see how empty the upstairs of the house is. They have all been converted to office space or guest rooms, but with the exception of the office, the other bedrooms get used far and few between. I admit, there are times when I think how it may be nice to fill them and it seems that every person that visits the house and wants a tour comments how we have room and need to fill them with kids. But consciously I can’t bring myself to make that decision. It’s almost like it would need to happen by accident at this point. If someone higher up feels that it is meant for me to have kids for some reason, then so be it, but I don’t feel as if that is my decision to be making at this point. Plus I tried for years with my ex to have children. It turned out in the end he was unable to have kids and maybe for good reasons. As badly as I wanted to have children at one point in my life, it worked out better for me that I never did given everything that I went through with him. But even so, after years of trying and failing and wanting something so bad- it is honestly one of the biggest heartaches and life disappointments that a person can intentionally put themselves through month after month. Who knows, maybe I too am unable to have children, but I can’t start putting myself through that torture all over again.
OK enough about the kids for now. As you just saw, I move out. It was one of the hardest decisions I have had to make in a long time. I was ready to move, I was so ready to move, but my mom was not prepared for it and I worried about her and cried over her well being for weeks and months. Even now I still do. The house is too much for her alone. Not only can she not afford it, but the maintenance of it- there is no way. I’d be running errands, in the grocery store and all the sudden start crying how my mom was going to be all alone, she has no one and I that I felt like I was abandoning her. I kept trying to buy more time on my move to give her time to mentally adjust. I moved or should I say snuck the non-essentials out of the house when she was working so that I did not upset her by moving my belongings while she was there. I know she knew I was moving, but I knew it would be too upsetting for her to see. Well little by little I had my stuff moved out quicker than expected and so I figured I may as well move the rest of it. I know I struggled for weeks afterwards as did she. I still do. Had I written at the time, you would have gotten much more impactful and emotional writing on this topic, but time has passed and I need to move on as does life.
My brother is trying to figure out where to live. He has a baby on the way and is renting a portion of a friend’s house which is way too small and not supposed to be set up as an apartment in the first place. He contemplated building an edition to my mom’s house but things got out of control and my mom’s demands kept getting greater and greater to the point it would have been cheaper to buy a house outright instead of building onto hers. My brother who is a bit of a financial delinquent was not sure he could afford it and was concerned if he can’t make the mortgage payments, both he and my mom would be living in the streets. My sister was telling my mom that the house is part hers and complaining that my brother gets everything and if she gave him the house it would break up the family and no one would talk to her again. I’m not sure where or when my sister became this materialistic person, but what has been going on lately, probably has my father rolling over in his grave. There is so much more to this but I don’t have the time to get into it now so perhaps it will be another entry at a later date. Personally do I think it is fair that my brother makes out like a bandit every time because he is the boy – NO, but in this case, I am more concerned with my mom’s well being and not the money unlike my sister. If my bother makes out best but is willing to take care of my mother, then that is really worth more than any money I will ever encounter upon her death. And while she tells me she fell down a flight of stairs the other day and I am so, so worried about her safety, mental, physical, emotional and financial well being, hopefully she will be around for many more years to come.
In the end, I think my brother decided just yesterday that it was in his best interest to rent a 2 bedroom apartment for the time being and take more time to figure out the house and a more permanent living situations. I know deep down my mom was upset and highly disappointed by the decision. She is for the first time in her entire life living alone and is in well over her head. I worry like you would not believe but while we may not like it or understand the reasoning at the time, somehow have a way of working out in the end or happening for a reason. We have been trying to convince my mom she needs to sell the house but she insists she is fine. There has always been someone there to help her, but no longer. Yesterday my brother and I went over and spent hours doing yard work for her but we can’t do that all the time. I have my own life and my own yard to maintain and my brother has a baby on the way and is doing all sorts of side jobs to make extra money and is on overload as is. I hate to say it, but perhaps my mom needs to struggle some to come to the realization that the house needs to be sold and she needs to consider downgrading her living accommodations. I hate to sit back and watch it and my heart breaks for her every single day. I loose sleep over her well being daily, but perhaps this all happened for a reason. Of course in the beginning I thought I moved out and my brother had nowhere to live and it was perfect timing. I figured he would move in and have a second room for the baby that I used to use as my office. My mom could help with the baby and my brother could help with the house, but I guess that was not the reason. I know my brother too is torn up about my mom and cries over the situation all the time. I think he personally has a lot of weight on his shoulders for someone of such a young age. I also think he has a lot of regrets with my father and doesn’t want to make the same mistakes with my mother. He feels that if something happens to her, it will be all his fault and he did not help her or do right by her when he had the chance.
In the end I suppose it will all work out for the best. Maybe this is all happening so my mom has the time to really contemplate her living situation. None of us can get through to her and if she decided to sell the house, I think it has to be her decision or she will only resent us all for making her make such a drastic change in her life. For right now, I think she is alone, afraid and a bit sad. I hate to inflict pain or hurt on anyone and I know I personally made her hurt and it kills me inside. I think my brother feels similarly. As for my sister, well the only thing she seems to be torn up over is who gets a bigger piece of the pot. I think the Vegas sun is baking her brain. I have no idea what got into her lately but she has my mom talking as if she is dead tomorrow and what to do with her stuff so no one has to fight over it later. I hate that all this is going on- I just hate it. I could go on for hours but I have to play catch up and keep moving along so let me do just that.
In between moving and personal issues, I finished school. I busted my ass and studied like I have never in my life studied before. I passed my final by one point and at times I was so ready to quit. I walked out of the final thinking I had failed. I knew that my class exam grades were high enough that I would pass the course even if I failed the final, but as I had a certification test to study for- failing wasn’t really my plan. Granted the final was stuff that was both going to be on my certification exam as well as higher level certification which did not pertain to me, but nonetheless, I walked out of my final ready to give up and wondered if I should even take the certification exam although I had already paid my $250 to take it and it was non-refundable. Well I got my final exam grade back and saw that I had passed by one point. I was disappointed that I had done so horribly after getting 90’s and 100’s on all my other exams, but that one point gave me the push I needed to study hard and give it my all. So on May 14, 2011, with all the nerves you could muster, I walked into the computer testing center, put all my belongings in a locker, got my pockets search and sat for 4 long hours in a room with a video camera on me to ensure I did not cheat while taking what was quite possibly the hardest exam I have ever taken in my entire life. I was certain I had failed. There were points I moved the curser around and said whatever it lands on will be my answer…… and it was. I brought my dad with me that day as I wore his thumb print around my neck for luck and then I prayed like nobodies business. Somehow, by the grace of God, I passed my exam. When I saw the screen flash that my preliminary results were that I passed, I looked up, thanked God, grabbed my thumbie and kissed it and then I began crying in the test center. The test took so much longer than I expected but since I was so close, with 15 minutes to spare, I drove over to the cemetery to see my dad. I basically told him that I know he was never really proud of me for anything I did in my life, but that he should be proud of me today because I accomplished something so great and I was so proud of myself. The national pass rate is only 50% and luckily for me, I was in that 50% and am now PHR certified. (For those of you that don’t know, the PHR Certification is in the HR field to what the CPA Certification is in the Accounting world or what the Barr Exam is in the law industry.)
Having that huge milestone and accomplishment behind me, I jumped right into fundraising. The week after the exam I did the Liver Life Walk in memory of my father. I almost didn’t do it this year as life was way too stressful and hectic with the school and a move, but I vowed to do it every year and I am a person of my word. I wish I had more time and effort to put into it. Last year I gave it my all. Any yes perhaps the sympathy thing was going for me last year as it was the year my dad had passed and the walk was so soon after. As a team, last year we raised over $10,000 and it was one of my proudest achievements. I spent the following year thinking up ideas of how to raise the bar, but when push came to shove, I just didn’t have the time. So I did what I could and I thank all those who helped- big or small. While we barely broke the $2,000 mark this year and it feels like a failure compared to last years milestone, I know it the end that something is better than nothing and I am so, so grateful to all those that contributed and supported the cause. Every little bit counts and together we did make a difference!
I do have to say though that this year, the walk was more emotional for me. Last year I put my energy into it and made it my mission. I was doing it for Dad and to help other who suffered as he had. This year, it was still for him, in memory of him and to help others at the same time. There was one team with a little girl, maybe 7 or 10 that had come down with liver disease and had a huge team. My brother who told me that he would never do it again, ironically ended up on the front cover of the brochure with part of my team from last year and it turns out he did show up this year carrying a sign that said, “In memory of Tony Jerome Sr.” There were people waking around with T-Shirts with photos of their loved one’s that had passed that said, “Our hero is now our Angel”. It just really hit home why I was there and who was no longer here.
My father had loved to fish. Fishing and photography were his two biggest passions in life. One of the posters from last year (and I think the photo on the walk site) is of him holding up a fish he caught. This year they had a man making balloon animals for the kids. My team had him make hats with fish hanging off of them and fishing poles in memory of my dad. They had face painting and several team members including my mom had fish painted on their face. So as we began to walk for liver disease and for my dad, we marched holding our posters, wearing fish hats, holding fishing poles and with fish painted on our cheeks. This year fish became the new theme for the team- a theme I have no doubt will carry through for years to come.
I miss my dad so much. I miss him every day. As I sit here and write this, my face is covered in tears because as soon as I finish this, I am headed to the cemetery to visit him. It has been a very emotional year for me and I couldn’t bring myself to just go visit him and sit there and cry, but today I have to. Today is Father’s Day! For all the good memories and years we had together, I still have a hard time getting the visions of him being so sick out of my head. I watched him die right before my eyes. I watch a jolly man turn weak and fragile and forgetful. I watched him grow thinner than I. I watched him suffer, I sat by his bed in the hospital when the monitors all flatlined and I reached over, removed all the wires from his body and put my hands on his face, closing his eyelids as my hands went from his forehead downward. I wish I could get that visual out of my head. I close my eyes at night to go to sleep sometimes and I see that vision of my father half dead in the hospital bed and I have to open my eyes and think of something happier before I try to shut my eyes again. I hate that I remember him that way and I hate that he is not here. I hate that he missed my brother’s wedding. I hate that he will not see his first granddaughter be born. I hate that I am about to plan a wedding of my own and he will not be there either. I hate that I have to worry about my mom as I do. I hate that she is all alone. I hate that he died so young and I hate that I have to remember my father so sickly. I wish things did not have to be this way, but they are and there is nothing I can do to change that. Oh and I hate that even after his death, my father can’t rest in peace.
It turns out my ex is down in Florida using my father’s social security number to take out loans. We did report my father’s death to the social security administration so I am not sure how he even managed this one, but it seems since they can’t collect from my ex, bill collectors are harassing my mother at home. I personally heard one of the messages for myself. It seems that after my father passed, my ex thought no one would be the wiser. He has hacked my father’s computer in the past after we separated so I have no idea what information he has gotten a hold of. Somehow my ex must have gotten a hold of my father’s social- maybe applied for something online but my ex took out loans and had my father listed as a co-signer. Since my ex has defaulted on the loans, they are now calling my father to collect. He obviously is not around to get the phone calls, so they are harassing my mom. My mother had to explain that my father is dead and there is no way that my father could have possibly co-signed anything for him. The people didn’t even know what to say.
If you have learned anything about my ex over the years, you should know that he is a real piece of work and a major con-artist. I mean my ex has done some pretty scummy things in his day, but this has to take the cake. I tried to call him up and give him a piece of my mind, but can’t even find a number for him that is not disconnected or out of service. And then to make matters worse, my father was alive for a few weeks last year and got one paycheck so my mother had to file her tax refund joint again. It turns out the IRS rejected her tax return because someone has been using my father’s social security number and has already filed a tax return to get a refund. Since my ex is on social security disability as a result of an ailment he faked, I am wondering if he assumed my father’s social to work and get some extra money on the side without it getting back to the government that cuts his SSDI check each month. And yes, my ex is capable of something to this magnitude and of forging a social security card that to the untrained eye would be undetectable. He is a major con artist and I would not put it past him. Of course we have no way to prove this, but my mom had to go down the IRS and they are doing some sort of investigation. I was so caught up with school and everything else that I did not have time to look into it myself, but now that some time has freed up, I think I will call the credit bureaus and report the fraud so they can go after him. I also have an acquaintance that is a police detective. She informs me that since my mother and father lived in Suffolk County, we can report it here and they may go after my ex in Florida since technically my parents are the victims of a crime. One way or another my ex will meet his maker and I can only hope it happens sooner rather than later.
Well I have gone on and on for far too long. There are still a few more things I need to say, but there is always another day. I am going to head out to visit my father at the cemetery now. To all you dad’s out there, HAPPY FATHER’S DAY! And to those of you who have a dad still in your life, cherish them while you still can.
Until I write again……
It has been almost two, maybe going on three months since I have written last. Life has gone warp speed ahead. In addition to things happening a mile a minute in my life, the longer I wait to write, the more I have to catch up on and the more I put it off since I don’t even know where to begin. Truth be told, I have been so busy and the last few months seem to have been one thing after another. Pretty much every second of my time has been accounted for in one way or another. Between personal issues, worry, study, school, exams, fundraisers, family obligations and now wedding stuff. I really am unsure where to start and I feel as if when I write like this, my stories are blah at best. When I first began talking about my life, watching my father die and what it was like to go through that transition, I obviously had much more time on my hands. At the time the writing was somewhat more therapeutic for me. I have since found other outlets to discuss my emotions, however; as a result, I feel as if I do not do my writing justice. My writing started out very impactful for both myself and the select few who read or encountered it. I have for the most part kept my writing a secret. I have maybe 3 follower at best and a handful that stumble upon the blog in cyberspace, but for the most part it has been for me. A chronicle of a portion of my life if you will. There was a time I started writing well before my blog came about, also for therapeutic reasons. I pretty much wrote for 3 years ……every day! Some funny, some sad, some enlightening, some entertaining and some very heartfelt and emotional passages. My goal was to one day survive all that has been thrown my way and write a happy ending. If I had been through it- chances are that others had as well and if I could help or inspire just one person- well then why not.
Well time passed and I had to stop writing. I found myself writing about life instead of trying to live it and enjoy it. I thought one day my life will be in a much better place and I will bridge the gap and write the “happy ending” that you always want to read about in a book. I mean, who pours their heart and soul into a novel only to report that life got worse in the end. Where is the incentive to read that? Well 2 years after I stopped writing, I lost my job, went through a divorce, had to move and then watch my father slowly die before my eyes. I got to a point where writing was my only outlet again and so I started this blog. Over the years, writing has helped me through some very difficult times and had helped me to come to some very interesting realizations. I never plan out my writing- it just flows and from one day to the next, if my plan was to write about the same topic, each entry would be entirely different.
All that being said, are things so horrible in my life right now that I feel the need to write….well No, but I feel this overwhelming sense that I need to catch up and continue this. As someone pointed out, the things I write today may be cherished or important in years to come. And truth be told, I busted my ass in school to accomplish something I personally was so, so proud of, but if I could afford to not work, I really believe my true passion in life would be to write. I think I would find the time to bridge the gap between my former life and my current one and I would absolutely love to write everyday for a living. I doubt I will ever get that chance, but for now, I keep it going because these truly are life changing events that are happing in my life right now and it may be nice to look back one day.
OK, enough rambling….where to begin. Well, I think I left off in March or end of April that I personally was having some health concerns. My blood pressure was a bit wacky and they were sending me for some test to see if I had cervical cancer. The doctor of course said he would call either way with the results and of course they never do. I had to hound him after weeks of worry and he has some secretary or nurse chic call me back. She tells me that they found some abnormal cells and eventually in time they could turn into something to worry about but for right now I am OK and they will just keep an eye on things. Well what the hell does abnormal cells mean and what do you mean they could turn into something to worry about. She was vague at best and as a non- doctor, she probably shouldn’t even have been telling me that. I have no idea what she meant by that or how I was supposed to interpret it. It was almost as if she were saying “enjoy life now before you have to worry later?” OR “You are on borrowed time?” “It is only a matter of time before you do test positive for cancer?” I mean, I was very glad to not have to worry about cancer, but not having a clean bill of health either had me a bit concerned. For right now I just try and put it out of my head and live life the best I can.
I do have to admit though that for weeks I was convinced I would end up like my dad. I was convinced they would have to take half my reproductive organs out. I was convinced my fiancé who is such a wonderful person would be attending my funeral and trying to figure out what to do with all my affairs as my family certainly couldn’t handle it and I was about to move in with him. And in the process of all that had gone on in my former life, I had made peace with the fact that I had always wanted children and never had them. I had in my mind that if I did not have children by the time I was 34, I never would. Well this year I turned 35 and while I truly had made peace with living a childless life (I think)…..the whole experience got me thinking even more. As you read back in January, my brother’s wife who they said could never have children got pregnant unexpectedly. The news of that came as a low blow to me- a reaction I never imagined. Again I made peace with it and have remained indifferent, but the whole death, life, and not medically being able to have children if you wanted them got me to thinking how short life was and that maybe I needed to revisit this topic. I think back in April I had decided that if I was OK, maybe I should consider having a family because life really is short, you never know what it will throw your way and if I wait too long, perhaps it really will be too late- for biological reasons or for medically induced reasons.
And although I came to that realization, my fiancé who is 2 years older than I, seems to have a baby bug like nobodies business. He wants a baby so, so badly and has been pushing me to consider having one. So I go from have a baby while you still can, to him probing on the issue and me feeling that I am too old to start having kids. I think it would be so life altering at this point and financially I just don’t know how people do it. I guess you do what you have to do, but I lived in a life where I pinched pennies, sacrificed everything and I don’t want to go back there. I know that once my brother’s baby is born she will be so cute and cuddly and I will probably want one of my own, but for right now, I want one one minute and see it as the ultimate sacrifice the next. I am a BIG believer in things happening for a reason and that there is a bigger plan for all of us. Perhaps not our own plan, but that there is some sort of higher being that has a plan for all of us. If it was in the cards for me to have a child, I would embrace every moment of it and it truly would be such a miracle and a precious gift, but I am having a hard time consciously making that decision. At this point, it feels almost as if it would have to happen by accident or come as a complete surprise to me- not one I plan for. I go back and forth and I am having such a hard time with this.
I should probably take a step back for a moment and tell you that while it had been my plan to move in May when I finished school and life settled down, I did end up moving much sooner than I had anticipated. By mid April, I had moved into my fiancés home. He lives in a really great area where all the neighborhood kids play in the street. When you walk through the area there are schools nearby and I just think to myself what a great place to raise a family. We have 4 bedrooms and obviously there are only two of us living in this huge house. Some days I look in the back bedroom and see how empty the upstairs of the house is. They have all been converted to office space or guest rooms, but with the exception of the office, the other bedrooms get used far and few between. I admit, there are times when I think how it may be nice to fill them and it seems that every person that visits the house and wants a tour comments how we have room and need to fill them with kids. But consciously I can’t bring myself to make that decision. It’s almost like it would need to happen by accident at this point. If someone higher up feels that it is meant for me to have kids for some reason, then so be it, but I don’t feel as if that is my decision to be making at this point. Plus I tried for years with my ex to have children. It turned out in the end he was unable to have kids and maybe for good reasons. As badly as I wanted to have children at one point in my life, it worked out better for me that I never did given everything that I went through with him. But even so, after years of trying and failing and wanting something so bad- it is honestly one of the biggest heartaches and life disappointments that a person can intentionally put themselves through month after month. Who knows, maybe I too am unable to have children, but I can’t start putting myself through that torture all over again.
OK enough about the kids for now. As you just saw, I move out. It was one of the hardest decisions I have had to make in a long time. I was ready to move, I was so ready to move, but my mom was not prepared for it and I worried about her and cried over her well being for weeks and months. Even now I still do. The house is too much for her alone. Not only can she not afford it, but the maintenance of it- there is no way. I’d be running errands, in the grocery store and all the sudden start crying how my mom was going to be all alone, she has no one and I that I felt like I was abandoning her. I kept trying to buy more time on my move to give her time to mentally adjust. I moved or should I say snuck the non-essentials out of the house when she was working so that I did not upset her by moving my belongings while she was there. I know she knew I was moving, but I knew it would be too upsetting for her to see. Well little by little I had my stuff moved out quicker than expected and so I figured I may as well move the rest of it. I know I struggled for weeks afterwards as did she. I still do. Had I written at the time, you would have gotten much more impactful and emotional writing on this topic, but time has passed and I need to move on as does life.
My brother is trying to figure out where to live. He has a baby on the way and is renting a portion of a friend’s house which is way too small and not supposed to be set up as an apartment in the first place. He contemplated building an edition to my mom’s house but things got out of control and my mom’s demands kept getting greater and greater to the point it would have been cheaper to buy a house outright instead of building onto hers. My brother who is a bit of a financial delinquent was not sure he could afford it and was concerned if he can’t make the mortgage payments, both he and my mom would be living in the streets. My sister was telling my mom that the house is part hers and complaining that my brother gets everything and if she gave him the house it would break up the family and no one would talk to her again. I’m not sure where or when my sister became this materialistic person, but what has been going on lately, probably has my father rolling over in his grave. There is so much more to this but I don’t have the time to get into it now so perhaps it will be another entry at a later date. Personally do I think it is fair that my brother makes out like a bandit every time because he is the boy – NO, but in this case, I am more concerned with my mom’s well being and not the money unlike my sister. If my bother makes out best but is willing to take care of my mother, then that is really worth more than any money I will ever encounter upon her death. And while she tells me she fell down a flight of stairs the other day and I am so, so worried about her safety, mental, physical, emotional and financial well being, hopefully she will be around for many more years to come.
In the end, I think my brother decided just yesterday that it was in his best interest to rent a 2 bedroom apartment for the time being and take more time to figure out the house and a more permanent living situations. I know deep down my mom was upset and highly disappointed by the decision. She is for the first time in her entire life living alone and is in well over her head. I worry like you would not believe but while we may not like it or understand the reasoning at the time, somehow have a way of working out in the end or happening for a reason. We have been trying to convince my mom she needs to sell the house but she insists she is fine. There has always been someone there to help her, but no longer. Yesterday my brother and I went over and spent hours doing yard work for her but we can’t do that all the time. I have my own life and my own yard to maintain and my brother has a baby on the way and is doing all sorts of side jobs to make extra money and is on overload as is. I hate to say it, but perhaps my mom needs to struggle some to come to the realization that the house needs to be sold and she needs to consider downgrading her living accommodations. I hate to sit back and watch it and my heart breaks for her every single day. I loose sleep over her well being daily, but perhaps this all happened for a reason. Of course in the beginning I thought I moved out and my brother had nowhere to live and it was perfect timing. I figured he would move in and have a second room for the baby that I used to use as my office. My mom could help with the baby and my brother could help with the house, but I guess that was not the reason. I know my brother too is torn up about my mom and cries over the situation all the time. I think he personally has a lot of weight on his shoulders for someone of such a young age. I also think he has a lot of regrets with my father and doesn’t want to make the same mistakes with my mother. He feels that if something happens to her, it will be all his fault and he did not help her or do right by her when he had the chance.
In the end I suppose it will all work out for the best. Maybe this is all happening so my mom has the time to really contemplate her living situation. None of us can get through to her and if she decided to sell the house, I think it has to be her decision or she will only resent us all for making her make such a drastic change in her life. For right now, I think she is alone, afraid and a bit sad. I hate to inflict pain or hurt on anyone and I know I personally made her hurt and it kills me inside. I think my brother feels similarly. As for my sister, well the only thing she seems to be torn up over is who gets a bigger piece of the pot. I think the Vegas sun is baking her brain. I have no idea what got into her lately but she has my mom talking as if she is dead tomorrow and what to do with her stuff so no one has to fight over it later. I hate that all this is going on- I just hate it. I could go on for hours but I have to play catch up and keep moving along so let me do just that.
In between moving and personal issues, I finished school. I busted my ass and studied like I have never in my life studied before. I passed my final by one point and at times I was so ready to quit. I walked out of the final thinking I had failed. I knew that my class exam grades were high enough that I would pass the course even if I failed the final, but as I had a certification test to study for- failing wasn’t really my plan. Granted the final was stuff that was both going to be on my certification exam as well as higher level certification which did not pertain to me, but nonetheless, I walked out of my final ready to give up and wondered if I should even take the certification exam although I had already paid my $250 to take it and it was non-refundable. Well I got my final exam grade back and saw that I had passed by one point. I was disappointed that I had done so horribly after getting 90’s and 100’s on all my other exams, but that one point gave me the push I needed to study hard and give it my all. So on May 14, 2011, with all the nerves you could muster, I walked into the computer testing center, put all my belongings in a locker, got my pockets search and sat for 4 long hours in a room with a video camera on me to ensure I did not cheat while taking what was quite possibly the hardest exam I have ever taken in my entire life. I was certain I had failed. There were points I moved the curser around and said whatever it lands on will be my answer…… and it was. I brought my dad with me that day as I wore his thumb print around my neck for luck and then I prayed like nobodies business. Somehow, by the grace of God, I passed my exam. When I saw the screen flash that my preliminary results were that I passed, I looked up, thanked God, grabbed my thumbie and kissed it and then I began crying in the test center. The test took so much longer than I expected but since I was so close, with 15 minutes to spare, I drove over to the cemetery to see my dad. I basically told him that I know he was never really proud of me for anything I did in my life, but that he should be proud of me today because I accomplished something so great and I was so proud of myself. The national pass rate is only 50% and luckily for me, I was in that 50% and am now PHR certified. (For those of you that don’t know, the PHR Certification is in the HR field to what the CPA Certification is in the Accounting world or what the Barr Exam is in the law industry.)
Having that huge milestone and accomplishment behind me, I jumped right into fundraising. The week after the exam I did the Liver Life Walk in memory of my father. I almost didn’t do it this year as life was way too stressful and hectic with the school and a move, but I vowed to do it every year and I am a person of my word. I wish I had more time and effort to put into it. Last year I gave it my all. Any yes perhaps the sympathy thing was going for me last year as it was the year my dad had passed and the walk was so soon after. As a team, last year we raised over $10,000 and it was one of my proudest achievements. I spent the following year thinking up ideas of how to raise the bar, but when push came to shove, I just didn’t have the time. So I did what I could and I thank all those who helped- big or small. While we barely broke the $2,000 mark this year and it feels like a failure compared to last years milestone, I know it the end that something is better than nothing and I am so, so grateful to all those that contributed and supported the cause. Every little bit counts and together we did make a difference!
I do have to say though that this year, the walk was more emotional for me. Last year I put my energy into it and made it my mission. I was doing it for Dad and to help other who suffered as he had. This year, it was still for him, in memory of him and to help others at the same time. There was one team with a little girl, maybe 7 or 10 that had come down with liver disease and had a huge team. My brother who told me that he would never do it again, ironically ended up on the front cover of the brochure with part of my team from last year and it turns out he did show up this year carrying a sign that said, “In memory of Tony Jerome Sr.” There were people waking around with T-Shirts with photos of their loved one’s that had passed that said, “Our hero is now our Angel”. It just really hit home why I was there and who was no longer here.
My father had loved to fish. Fishing and photography were his two biggest passions in life. One of the posters from last year (and I think the photo on the walk site) is of him holding up a fish he caught. This year they had a man making balloon animals for the kids. My team had him make hats with fish hanging off of them and fishing poles in memory of my dad. They had face painting and several team members including my mom had fish painted on their face. So as we began to walk for liver disease and for my dad, we marched holding our posters, wearing fish hats, holding fishing poles and with fish painted on our cheeks. This year fish became the new theme for the team- a theme I have no doubt will carry through for years to come.
I miss my dad so much. I miss him every day. As I sit here and write this, my face is covered in tears because as soon as I finish this, I am headed to the cemetery to visit him. It has been a very emotional year for me and I couldn’t bring myself to just go visit him and sit there and cry, but today I have to. Today is Father’s Day! For all the good memories and years we had together, I still have a hard time getting the visions of him being so sick out of my head. I watched him die right before my eyes. I watch a jolly man turn weak and fragile and forgetful. I watched him grow thinner than I. I watched him suffer, I sat by his bed in the hospital when the monitors all flatlined and I reached over, removed all the wires from his body and put my hands on his face, closing his eyelids as my hands went from his forehead downward. I wish I could get that visual out of my head. I close my eyes at night to go to sleep sometimes and I see that vision of my father half dead in the hospital bed and I have to open my eyes and think of something happier before I try to shut my eyes again. I hate that I remember him that way and I hate that he is not here. I hate that he missed my brother’s wedding. I hate that he will not see his first granddaughter be born. I hate that I am about to plan a wedding of my own and he will not be there either. I hate that I have to worry about my mom as I do. I hate that she is all alone. I hate that he died so young and I hate that I have to remember my father so sickly. I wish things did not have to be this way, but they are and there is nothing I can do to change that. Oh and I hate that even after his death, my father can’t rest in peace.
It turns out my ex is down in Florida using my father’s social security number to take out loans. We did report my father’s death to the social security administration so I am not sure how he even managed this one, but it seems since they can’t collect from my ex, bill collectors are harassing my mother at home. I personally heard one of the messages for myself. It seems that after my father passed, my ex thought no one would be the wiser. He has hacked my father’s computer in the past after we separated so I have no idea what information he has gotten a hold of. Somehow my ex must have gotten a hold of my father’s social- maybe applied for something online but my ex took out loans and had my father listed as a co-signer. Since my ex has defaulted on the loans, they are now calling my father to collect. He obviously is not around to get the phone calls, so they are harassing my mom. My mother had to explain that my father is dead and there is no way that my father could have possibly co-signed anything for him. The people didn’t even know what to say.
If you have learned anything about my ex over the years, you should know that he is a real piece of work and a major con-artist. I mean my ex has done some pretty scummy things in his day, but this has to take the cake. I tried to call him up and give him a piece of my mind, but can’t even find a number for him that is not disconnected or out of service. And then to make matters worse, my father was alive for a few weeks last year and got one paycheck so my mother had to file her tax refund joint again. It turns out the IRS rejected her tax return because someone has been using my father’s social security number and has already filed a tax return to get a refund. Since my ex is on social security disability as a result of an ailment he faked, I am wondering if he assumed my father’s social to work and get some extra money on the side without it getting back to the government that cuts his SSDI check each month. And yes, my ex is capable of something to this magnitude and of forging a social security card that to the untrained eye would be undetectable. He is a major con artist and I would not put it past him. Of course we have no way to prove this, but my mom had to go down the IRS and they are doing some sort of investigation. I was so caught up with school and everything else that I did not have time to look into it myself, but now that some time has freed up, I think I will call the credit bureaus and report the fraud so they can go after him. I also have an acquaintance that is a police detective. She informs me that since my mother and father lived in Suffolk County, we can report it here and they may go after my ex in Florida since technically my parents are the victims of a crime. One way or another my ex will meet his maker and I can only hope it happens sooner rather than later.
Well I have gone on and on for far too long. There are still a few more things I need to say, but there is always another day. I am going to head out to visit my father at the cemetery now. To all you dad’s out there, HAPPY FATHER’S DAY! And to those of you who have a dad still in your life, cherish them while you still can.
Until I write again……
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