Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Death Watch

Well, here it is another month later, and things have gone from bad to worse in the Hubster/Goddess household. We are officially on death watch. And no... it's not mine.

No... Hubster's mother is dying, and I don't think she'll last the week. She's in hospice right now, and while she's stable, she has cancer which has spread throughout her entire body. Her heart keeps going into spasms, she's had fluid fill her lungs and the pericardial sac, and breathing has become something of an effort. She's heavily medicated, so she's not really with us anymore - at least, not in the form Hubster remembers. I guess the cancer has ravaged her body, because his sister said she looks like hell. And even with all that, do you think his father would communicate via phone? Nope. Hubster gets occasional text messages from him (I think he's gotten three). We were't given an invitation to come and stay with him so Hubster could go see his mother. Nope. The Hyatt at the Mayo Clinic was the suggested place. We're flat broke, neither of our trucks are working well, and we can't afford to be stranded in the middle of the desert. Even though it's only four hours away and a straight shot from us, we just can't afford to go. There's also the small matter of them hating my guts...

Hubster left a message on his mother's phone (I still can't believe it) because she's not conscious for long enough to actually chat on the phone. That part I get, but the only family member staying with his dad is his aunt. They have a house bigger than the one we had in Sacramento, and you mean to tell me that there's no room for their SON? I'm really pissed off - just in case you couldn't tell.

The upshot of all this is that Hubster has decided not to go. He said his goodbyes in the voicemail message, and that's going to have to suffice. My family and his are SO different - my family would drop everything and be there until the bitter end. Not his. It really drives home to me just how different we are. Anyway, his sister didn't even know if there was going to be a funeral. We know she'll be cremated, but that's it. We can't even afford to send flowers, which makes us feel like shit. But Hubster says he's cried and done what he could. I believe that. He's one of those people who grieves and then moves on. Not me. I'm still grieving for Grandpa, and he's been gone for 22 years.

I'm sorry to rant and rave about this, but I can't do it with Hubster. Some of the thoughts I've had aren't exactly the kinds you want to share with anybody, and even though I truly don't wish this on anybody, there's the small matter of them ignoring us for a decade. I have a hard time forgiving things and carry grudges for a long time. I'm not proud of it, but there it is. Hubster has always been treated like shit, and I resent it.

On the happier side of life, thank you so much to the ladies who have purchased yarn and other goodies from me. It's much appreciated and literally put food on our table. We just can't afford to live here anymore. I've made hotel reservations in the Bay Area beginning April 1st for a month and a half, which should give us plenty of time to find a new residence. It's one of those long-stay residence hotels - the same one, in fact, we had to stay in when we lost the house. At least this time, we'll be there on a happier note.

Other than that, life moves on. I sit and knit, Hubster sits and works, and I play my silly iPad games when my fingers cramp up. It snowed the other night, which was beautiful, but we're back to sunshine and warm temps. Ugh. It's winter. I want rain and/or snow!

Back to the needles. I have swatches to knit for a company and a baby blanket to make for the girl who makes my lime ices every day. I'm using Dream in Color Baby in a gorgeous blue/purple color (I think it's called Dusky Aurora). It's great yarn, and I especially like their yarn with cashmere. It's one of the few non-indies I use.

I hope you're all well and enjoying the winter weather, although I understand those of you in the Midwest are about to be blasted. Be safe, and I'll try to write sooner.