Determination

Determination is an admirable quality. Most people who achieve their goals do so through hard work and a lot of determination. I am surrounded by a lot of people who use determination to do great things for their families, their companies and their lives in general.

With some people, determination crosses the line to selfishness. I'm not sure how to define it but I know it when I see it. I saw it last night and I'm living it this morning.

That wacky husband of mine thought we might steal a couple of hours together last night. (You know what they say about the best laid plans?)

We stopped for gas and I ran in the convenience store. My cell phone rang. Yep, it's Hangdog. He's obsessed with the husband scheduling the eye surgery. So, I ran outside to hand my phone to the man in charge.

On the way to dinner, my cell phone rang again. (At this point, I just wanted to go home and crawl into bed.) But we soldiered on. We tried to have a quiet dinner and a conversation but at some point it became pointless. Even if you don't answer the phone, you hear it or feel it vibrate and it's distracting.

I know you're thinking, "Why didn't she just turn it off?" I don't know. Mostly I worry about someone at the Home needing to reach me. When the Belle died, we learned of it through a call to my cell phone. I didn't know when the baby was headed home for his break and what if he needed to reach me? T have two clients that often call after their office hours and I needed some answers for projects I am pursuing so turning it off just didn't seem like an option.

We came home and eventually found slumber. Oh no! Now the home phone is ringing. For once I was sleeping so soundly that I didn't hear it. But I felt the husband kicking me and saying, "Get the phone."

Trying to shake the cobwebs from my brain, here's what I remember of the conversation at 1:00AM:

I cannot stay here.
They're trying to kill me.
Please come immediately.
I think I'm going crazy.
They won't give me my medications.
That woman is going to murder me.

Think I went back to sleep? That determined soul called twice more but I did not answer. I'm sure God will have some questions for me about that decision.

At 5:45 this morning, our phone rang again. We were up. I read the caller ID and shoved the phone toward the husband. It wasn't Hangdog; it was one of the nurses.

Hangdog fell and insists on being taken to the hospital for an x-ray. He's certain he's broken a hip. He's the man who cries "Wolf" so we're pretty sure this is an elaborate plan to make things go his way. I want to scream, "This is a plot!"

Determination may be a stellar quality but when it crosses the line, it's selfish and annoying.

Visiting

Big Daddy and I had a date tonight. We visited Hangdog in the Home. He is still adjusting but we came loaded with candy and stuff for his little dorm frig. I mentioned that today is my father's birthday so I suggested he visit his father and I would go visit mine. To his credit, he said, "Let's do both."

After a visit with hangdog, the husband is in a funny mood. This is a good match with my parents.

We had brownies and coffee. We shared stories, some laughs and some gossip. But my parents are way too healthy and sane for Big Daddy. On the way home he asked me, "Isn't there a hospital, a hospice or an orphanage we need to stop by?"

Thinking About Tomorrow

I usually read novels when I go on a trip. But last year, I picked up a book, "Thinking About Tomorrow -- Reinventing Yourself at Midlife." The author is Susan Crandell. I read it on a plane and put it aside.

It's haunting me.

We all need to evaluate and make sure the choices we made yesterday still work for us today. So, I am trying to do that and it's hard. I can't figure out how I blinked and the daughter is grown and thriving in another part of the country. I can't figure out how the toddler who used to snuggle with me is grown and off to college, with bigger adventures to come. I can't comprehend that we just buried the Belle. I can't get over the sadness of Hangdog in the Home. He hates it and I hate it for him, yet, it is the only solution we seem to find.

There's a blank page in front of me. The decisions are mine and mine alone. The husband has dreams and aspirations. He thinks I've lost mine but they're still there.

I guess that's the dance of marriage.

What's Going Through His Mind?

The husband just left to take Hangdog to the Home. I've tried to keep my emotions out of it but I've spent a fair amount of time hanging out in my office, trying to keep my crying private.

Suddenly, all the little things I used to stress about seem minuscule and somewhat cruel. So what if he wants dessert with every meal? I'm tempted to call the Home and tell them they do not have enough butter.

I haven't transformed completely. I totally lied to him, pretending I was calling his wife. (We are not ready for that discussion.) I left the TIC TAC prescription with the nurses.

We both knelt and said our prayers. I reminded him that this is just one more transition and he has done that repeatedly throughout his life. I suggested that he might make some new friends who haven't heard his stories -- and they're good stories. I promised that we will be there every possible day.

Than I curled up on the dog pillow, called my parents and cried.