I covet JZ's hat. Just in case you were wondering.

I'm sure she'll cherish the validation. It was that very hat that got her the offer to model corsets for Dark Garden at the Dickens Fair.

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Cass, I'm so sorry. I feel like I keep saying the same thing over and over.

vw, I'm sorry you've had bad news. You'll let us know what's going on with your grandma when you find out?

You might think - but partly that's the shoe size (5 already). Actually he's pretty much the same size as other 9 y.o.s in his class.

Ben's wearing a 7. I think I could wear his shoes, but he keeps them about as nice as you'd expect a 9 year old boy to keep them. He'll be 10 at the end of this month, so I think he has several months on Emmett, which is still a big deal size-wise at this age.

I think he's about 4' 4" now, though he's sprouted up so much in the last year that it's hard to keep track.

He's close enough to 5' and 100lbs that I've forgotten the real measurements, as well (I suspect he's an inch shorter and 5lbs less, but I'd have to check). I know when I hug him, I feel like I'm hugging an adult (or possibly a tree) rather than a child. He's not even the tallest boy in his class. There are at least two who are taller than he is.

Yep, our elder son will be moving back in with us too, probably this week, and hopefully short-term, because he'll be sleeping on the living room couch, with all his belongings in storage.

{{{Beverly}}} Maybe you could start over-doting on them, and they'll decide to move out--together.

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{{{Cass}}} I'm so sorry.

You'll let us know what's going on with your grandma when you find out?

Yes. My brother is going to visit her this afternoon, so hopefully we'll know more then. I hate feeling so helpless and far away.

Timelies. It's back to work today. Playtime is over. Wish I had more to show for it.

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Thank you all. For everything. The support. the shoulders, the punctuation, the advice, the gentle reminders. Mostly for being here for me. I am so very lucky and grateful that I found the Buffistas and especially the Bitches. And that you all found (or, as the case often is, created) this community.

[Substantially x-posted from LJ but not a straight cut-and-paste. It’s the Director’s Cut of x-posts.]

At 10 o'clock, I came into the nephlet’s (technically guest) ((but more importantly, computered and interbunnied up)) bedroom and read some really nice things you’ve all been kind enough to say. They made me feel better and less alone.

It started me thinking and sometimes I think best while tapping out the keys. That way my brain can just say everything now and then I can go back, read it and realize what I meant or was feeling.

I wrote for an hour, was done for the time, and breathed that sigh of relief you get when you do something that was important and you did it well. A soul-baring post that was painfully honest, though not in a bellybutton way.

It was, in part, what feels like an honest look at what is going on and how it is affecting me and others and what I want from the whole experience. I actually realized reading it that much of it would be worth reading at my grandma's eventual memorial service. And then just writing out some of the drama of the day *and* minutia of the day so I could set the memory and get some feedback, alternatives or just

I reread it, shuffled two paragraphs, edited maybe three sentences and went to clicky the post button. The power went out in the house. The whole neighborhood was bzzzzzz-free according to eyewitness reports of me looking out of a couple of windows. I would have walked outside but it’s raining in a way that makes me want to collect two of whatever critter I see next. And with the power out, the baby moniter base unit is stupid and only runs off of an outlet.

I mentally pictured where I thought a flashlight I might have seen earlier was, actually found it too. I lit a couple of candles that I found so we could see and hopefully calm my grandma if she woke up - as the dark is just no longer her friend. I went out to the couch in the Great Room to wake my mom and ask if the morphine pump was running off of batteries or an outlet (Go team batteries in damned important medical equipment! And fuck team outlet only and no battery backup in the baby monitor), calmed mom down since she's terrified (understandably) that being woken up means something is wronger with her mother and convinced her to go back to sleep. I grabbed a couple more candles, lit their sparkly waxy hearts, and then I just sat down and waited.

Any minute I expected the lights to come back.

Grandma slept though most of it but was far more agitated than she had been today. I didn't have quite enough candle light to read or write, so I reclined the chair and tried to just listen to her breathing and talk her through any fear or confusion or pain. She was mostly just mumbling and wasn't even really awake. I was considering getting the Ativan in case she became too disoriented and panicky. But the dark nap imp lured me too and I felt the siren of teh snooze. I dozed just enough that it was a Violent Jerk Back to Awake each time when she starting talking or crying.

Then, after an hour and a half blackout, someone musta said that, “there be light.” And there was. And it was good.

There was however no music because I did not yet know how to mess with the satellite radio. Grandma is calmer when the soft light is on and the Sunny station is playing on the radio. One down, one to go.

I heard mom rustling (it is just the most telling thing about our society that actual silence feels askew? A house reawakening to electricity is loud.) so I went out to check on her and report on grandma. I said she was acting agitated so I was going to grab the Ativan from the fridge in case she woke up and we needed it to help her. She pooh-poohed (Is this an AA Milne thing?) the idea. So we just went into gram's room. (continued...)

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( continues...) Grandma woke up, was disturbed and mom sent me for the Ativan and pushed the extra morphine bump on the pump. Mom also showed me how to do at least the basic things on the radio.

Within an hour we'd gotten her pain and agitation under control. She was maybe trying to talk but it was usually just one word so there wasn't any context. But mom talked to her and touched her cheek and I held her hand quite loosely because she has such excruciating bone pain.

Mom went back to bed the couch and is back asleep thankfully. I am more worried about her than anyone else. Getting her to take any time for herself is a struggle. And by time for herself, grocery shopping would do. (She knows about delivies and wants to do it herself at least right now. Comfortable, familiar and life-sustaining... I might be overanalyzing a bit.)

I stayed at grandma's bedside for about 20 minutes. I tried to tell her everything I want her to hear from me.

And then came here to gripe about losing my whole other post because it was something I wish I still had. I'll have to let it suffice that I did put the words down, even if I was the only one who saw them and I was paying attention to the writing, so I don’t really have a good backup in my mind.

I'm going to go sit with her again and try to help her accept that we love her and are going to miss her terribly. And that we will also always remember her and she will also be an important member of our family, just not required to dress up for family dinners anymore. I keep telling her that there's no need for her to cling in such pain and not let go if she is ready. Saying goodbye...

Oh and I hear coughing. And rattling. Off to see if I can make her more comfortable as well.

Cass, I'm so sorry. I feel like I keep saying the same thing over and over.

My bad. I keep telling you bad or sad things. Often both.

And it is nice to hear it. It’s like the text version of saying it with your hand on my arm to show that you really mean it.

Wow, I started “this” post at 10. Actual posting at 4:30...

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Cass, all comfort and strength to you and yours.

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hugs Cass

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all comfort and strength to you and yours.

smiles happily with more than a hint of tired

Thank you. The people here have helped me through a lot of painful and difficult places. There just aren't words, as much as I like to make them up, to descibe how that makes me feel. And so many people here have made happy and wonderful places even better.

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And with that mash note to 'fistas, I am off to the other room for few more hours.

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{{{sweet Cass}}}

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