My parents raised me to be a Christian. To be more specific I was raised Protestant (Mom is Episcopalian and Dad was Baptist). When I was a child I went to a Lutheran school through the 8th grade so I have a deep foundation when it comes to my spiritual beliefs. We didn't make church every Sunday but there was the belief in God and yes...the belief that Jesus Christ died for our sins.
I never stopped believing as I got older and went to a public high school. I would occasionally go to church, not as often as I should have been, but at the same time you were not going to have me NOT believe in God and that there was no Jesus Christ.
I had a situation about two or three years ago where I was suffering from anxiety attacks. Unexplained anxiety attacks. Besides continuing to see a therapist I went back to church. I knew that foundation was essential to my psychological and emotional healing. My godson's mother was attending the Brooklyn Tabernacle Church so I started attending services there. The experience was uplifting on the highest degree and I still go there to this day (I attend St. Martins and Bklyn Tab). The combination of time, therapy sessions and church got me back on track. It helped strengthen me spiritually and it prepared me for dad's death.
When I was told last Thursday that dad died I immediately gave it to god. What do I mean by that? By giving it to God I mean the situation. I felt like I had gotten kicked in the stomach but in praying and talking to god I was able to handle it.
Ever since Dad started suffering dementia I prayed for him and more recently I prayed that he not suffer unnecessarily. I also prayed that I not see him suffer and for the most part I did not. He had occasional bouts of dementia and only once did he not recognize me. He never wandered. He had a couple of issues swallowing and he handled that. When he broke his arm he was obviously in a lot of pain and the medication for that pain brought on the dementia. After a few weeks though the doctors changed his medication to Tylenol and the dementia eventually cleared. Long story short....I did not see Dad suffer and I did not see him die. He suffered a heart attack and died promptly. I was en route to the nursing home when he was under cardiac arrest and got to the home after the paramedics took him away. My bus was late due to traffic and weather conditions. Had I been on time I would have seen them working on Dad. I thank God I missed that.
I guess my whole point to this again is that we all have to remember that God runs the show. When he calls you it's time to go. Thankfully he called Dad at age 83 so I had a lot of years to appreciate and enjoy him.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
ON A PERSONAL NOTE: RIP Part 6 On the horizon
What's in the future after the burial? For right now I am not sure.
I know cleaning the apartment is first on the agenda. This place is a wreck. I was actually trying to get the place cleaned up for his return and in doing that I emptied everything on to the living room floor. No though instead of putting the stuff aside for Dad to look at I guess I will go through it and toss some stuff away. I have to get new bookcases and look into having the apartment painted.
I want to finally get a cat.
I have to clean out the storage room.
I have to go back to work full-time. No more family leave for Dad. The good thing with that is that I now get a regular paycheck. The bad news is I may have to deal with that bull shit again. Then maybe not since we have an acting boss.
I want to travel more. Not huge trips though. I want to take a series of weekend trips. I may take some time to see Mom again. I want to get my AWS (alternate work schedule) day back so I can visit her more. I doubt if I will get to California but I might get to Canada.
I will invite family and friends over. Usually my other cousins have people over. I will start doing that after I clean the place.
These are just thoughts now.
I know cleaning the apartment is first on the agenda. This place is a wreck. I was actually trying to get the place cleaned up for his return and in doing that I emptied everything on to the living room floor. No though instead of putting the stuff aside for Dad to look at I guess I will go through it and toss some stuff away. I have to get new bookcases and look into having the apartment painted.
I want to finally get a cat.
I have to clean out the storage room.
I have to go back to work full-time. No more family leave for Dad. The good thing with that is that I now get a regular paycheck. The bad news is I may have to deal with that bull shit again. Then maybe not since we have an acting boss.
I want to travel more. Not huge trips though. I want to take a series of weekend trips. I may take some time to see Mom again. I want to get my AWS (alternate work schedule) day back so I can visit her more. I doubt if I will get to California but I might get to Canada.
I will invite family and friends over. Usually my other cousins have people over. I will start doing that after I clean the place.
These are just thoughts now.
ON A PERSONAL NOTE: RIP Part 5
How do I feel three plus days after my Dad dying?
I feel sad and oddly NOT because he died. Death in general is always at least partly sad.It's the end of something at least partly good.
Yesterday I realized I will NEVER hear our routine again on the phone:
"So long little Lonnie"
"So long Big Lonnie"
"Love you son"
"Love you too Poppi"
"God bless"
"God bless you too Poppi"
That was our routine every time we spoke on the phone, which was at least twice a day. We also had a routine when I left the apartment. Dad just HAD to see me off. He'd stumbled towards the door (he had that shuffling thing going) and stand there while I walked to the staircase:
"Don't slam that door"
"I never do"
"Don't start now"
"I won't"
"God bless"
"God bless you too Poppi"
"Love you son"
"Love you too Poppi"
By the way, don't get it twisted. My mother and I have a similar routine. It's just not as detailed and mostly on the telephone.
Right now I feel vulnerable (maybe these are stages of grief). Mostly I feel vulnerable because of my mother. I worry about her falling or not being ale to tend to her.
I feel vulnerable for myself. I was the one there for Dad. Having him there was actually comforting to me. As frail as he was he would actually try to take care of ME. If I had the slightest sniffle he would hobble over to the kitchen to find me some juice or offer somehow to get me soup or tea. He never stopped being a parent (and it is true, it is not the big things, but the little things you do). Naturally because of his health I would never tell him if I wasn't feeling well and even if he figured it out I would do my best to do things myself. I had to be strong for him.
In the days following Dad's death Japan had a terrible earthquake followed by a tsunami. On Saturday a bus near Co-Op City apparently swerved out of the way of a tractor trailer and got into an accident killing at least a dozen and hurting everyone on the bus. The top of the bus was sliced off. All of a sudden I feel that every accident can happen to me. I feel like tomorrow I will be diagnosed with diabetes or cancer and be here alone.
I now have to watch money. In the past Dad's pension took care of the rent and the bills. Thinking back to my ordeal with the job they ASSUMED I had another job. In a sense I did. My job was taking care of Dad. He never grabbed onto his money and I had to take care of the bills so we were never really in need. I guess this is why they gave me a hard time and thought they had me in a bad way. By trying to fire me they intended to financially cripple me. But that's another blog entry.
The bottom line is I was the caregiver for Alonzo Gibbs, but in a lot of ways he cared for me.
I feel sad and oddly NOT because he died. Death in general is always at least partly sad.It's the end of something at least partly good.
Yesterday I realized I will NEVER hear our routine again on the phone:
"So long little Lonnie"
"So long Big Lonnie"
"Love you son"
"Love you too Poppi"
"God bless"
"God bless you too Poppi"
That was our routine every time we spoke on the phone, which was at least twice a day. We also had a routine when I left the apartment. Dad just HAD to see me off. He'd stumbled towards the door (he had that shuffling thing going) and stand there while I walked to the staircase:
"Don't slam that door"
"I never do"
"Don't start now"
"I won't"
"God bless"
"God bless you too Poppi"
"Love you son"
"Love you too Poppi"
By the way, don't get it twisted. My mother and I have a similar routine. It's just not as detailed and mostly on the telephone.
Right now I feel vulnerable (maybe these are stages of grief). Mostly I feel vulnerable because of my mother. I worry about her falling or not being ale to tend to her.
I feel vulnerable for myself. I was the one there for Dad. Having him there was actually comforting to me. As frail as he was he would actually try to take care of ME. If I had the slightest sniffle he would hobble over to the kitchen to find me some juice or offer somehow to get me soup or tea. He never stopped being a parent (and it is true, it is not the big things, but the little things you do). Naturally because of his health I would never tell him if I wasn't feeling well and even if he figured it out I would do my best to do things myself. I had to be strong for him.
In the days following Dad's death Japan had a terrible earthquake followed by a tsunami. On Saturday a bus near Co-Op City apparently swerved out of the way of a tractor trailer and got into an accident killing at least a dozen and hurting everyone on the bus. The top of the bus was sliced off. All of a sudden I feel that every accident can happen to me. I feel like tomorrow I will be diagnosed with diabetes or cancer and be here alone.
I now have to watch money. In the past Dad's pension took care of the rent and the bills. Thinking back to my ordeal with the job they ASSUMED I had another job. In a sense I did. My job was taking care of Dad. He never grabbed onto his money and I had to take care of the bills so we were never really in need. I guess this is why they gave me a hard time and thought they had me in a bad way. By trying to fire me they intended to financially cripple me. But that's another blog entry.
The bottom line is I was the caregiver for Alonzo Gibbs, but in a lot of ways he cared for me.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
ON A PERSONAL NOTE: RIP Part 4....so far
So far:
I need to take better care of myself. On Friday I had a cup of apple sauce for breakfast, a cup for lunch and a cup for dinner with a few Townhouse crackers. Good if I was purposely dieting but not now.
Even though I still don't think Dad's death has really hit me yet I am depressed. Maybe you will call it mourning, I don't know. This entire scenario is depressing. The worst part is calling everyone and basically saying the same thing over and over again. I HATE delivering bad news. It has to be done but I detest it.
The hardest thing I had to do so far was to let my mother know. She gets spastic easily. I had to plan it out so that the home attendant would be there with my aunt so there would be support. She handled it better than I thought.
Nancy B didn't. Nancy was a friend of Dad's, more specifically the wife of Dad's best friend who has been deceased for a few years. Even while his friend (Sonny) was alive Dad was Nancy's second husband.
When I called the house Nancy answered and because of the wonders of caller ID she said "Hello Lonnie" in a very friendly voice. That voice got VERY guarded when she heard MY voice followed by an interruption "how's Lonnie?" She burst out into tears when I gave her the news. She took the news worse than my cousin Hortense.
We talked for awhile. I had spoken to Nancy on the phone before but I never met her. Dad and I were supposed to visit her during one of his trips to Florida, however since I don't have a license and I didn't want to drag Dad around on Greyhound we never made the journey to Palm Bay. Nancy spoke at length about how much of a good man my father was. Her tears brought on mine. Next to letting people know the news the hardest parts of this task is the acknowledgment from people of my work with Dad and hearing the wonderful things he did and what he meant to people.
The acknowledgment is nice but not necessary. I KNOW Dad loved me and is watching me from Heaven. I KNOW he appreciated whatever I did for him and tried to do for him. I did it willingly and I looked forward to most of it. I thought it was my duty to do as much as I could. So hearing the acknowledgments is ok, sometimes a little embarrassing. I DO appreciate it. Don't get me wrong. I don't think I was as good as he or other people think, but I do think he was well taken care of and happy.
I already said before that the tears first came when Carol (co-worker) gave my office wifey condolences for me. I went through SO much in that office when it came to Dad. I was on the chopping block. Management intended to fire me over my leave issues. I would come in all hours of the afternoon, mostly because of Dad. Some of it indirectly. I was exhausted. I still am. When he was home I had to make sure he was good to go for the senior center. In the nursing home I had to be there and be seen so his dementia wouldn't become an issue. People in the office knew that. And with the help of the Union I never gave up. every so often I would see a co-worker, both attorney and support staff and they would ask a question and offer quiet support. Even though I knew I was right I felt I had a greater purpose. People knew I wasn't bullshitting and I still for the most part handled myself with class. That acknowledgment still touches me.
I need to take better care of myself. On Friday I had a cup of apple sauce for breakfast, a cup for lunch and a cup for dinner with a few Townhouse crackers. Good if I was purposely dieting but not now.
Even though I still don't think Dad's death has really hit me yet I am depressed. Maybe you will call it mourning, I don't know. This entire scenario is depressing. The worst part is calling everyone and basically saying the same thing over and over again. I HATE delivering bad news. It has to be done but I detest it.
The hardest thing I had to do so far was to let my mother know. She gets spastic easily. I had to plan it out so that the home attendant would be there with my aunt so there would be support. She handled it better than I thought.
Nancy B didn't. Nancy was a friend of Dad's, more specifically the wife of Dad's best friend who has been deceased for a few years. Even while his friend (Sonny) was alive Dad was Nancy's second husband.
When I called the house Nancy answered and because of the wonders of caller ID she said "Hello Lonnie" in a very friendly voice. That voice got VERY guarded when she heard MY voice followed by an interruption "how's Lonnie?" She burst out into tears when I gave her the news. She took the news worse than my cousin Hortense.
We talked for awhile. I had spoken to Nancy on the phone before but I never met her. Dad and I were supposed to visit her during one of his trips to Florida, however since I don't have a license and I didn't want to drag Dad around on Greyhound we never made the journey to Palm Bay. Nancy spoke at length about how much of a good man my father was. Her tears brought on mine. Next to letting people know the news the hardest parts of this task is the acknowledgment from people of my work with Dad and hearing the wonderful things he did and what he meant to people.
The acknowledgment is nice but not necessary. I KNOW Dad loved me and is watching me from Heaven. I KNOW he appreciated whatever I did for him and tried to do for him. I did it willingly and I looked forward to most of it. I thought it was my duty to do as much as I could. So hearing the acknowledgments is ok, sometimes a little embarrassing. I DO appreciate it. Don't get me wrong. I don't think I was as good as he or other people think, but I do think he was well taken care of and happy.
I already said before that the tears first came when Carol (co-worker) gave my office wifey condolences for me. I went through SO much in that office when it came to Dad. I was on the chopping block. Management intended to fire me over my leave issues. I would come in all hours of the afternoon, mostly because of Dad. Some of it indirectly. I was exhausted. I still am. When he was home I had to make sure he was good to go for the senior center. In the nursing home I had to be there and be seen so his dementia wouldn't become an issue. People in the office knew that. And with the help of the Union I never gave up. every so often I would see a co-worker, both attorney and support staff and they would ask a question and offer quiet support. Even though I knew I was right I felt I had a greater purpose. People knew I wasn't bullshitting and I still for the most part handled myself with class. That acknowledgment still touches me.
ON A PERSONAL NOTE: Aunt Amy 6/8/26-1/4/2011 (written 1/4/2011)
Forgive me. I wrote this back in January and never posted it
Tonight I lost my aunt.
Tonight I lost my aunt.
On Christmas Eve my mother’s sister fell at her job and fractured her hip and her thigh. This came less than a week after Dad fell and fractured his arm. She would have been 85 years old in June.
I have been stuck down here in Florida since Dad fell, running first to the hospital and now to the rehab facility (nursing home). Originally Dad and I were supposed to have left this evening. Because the facilities in New York haven’t gotten back to the facility in Daytona we had to change our reservations. The significance with that is I got to deliver the bad news to my mother.
The funeral will probably be next Monday or Tuesday. If it is Monday I have a problem as Dad and I are scheduled to go back Sunday night and arrive in New York Monday. We can’t even change the reservations to the plane because we need to be at the facility on Monday.
Aunt Amy was the oldest. Aunt Carmen and Aunt Clarie passed away two and four years ago respectively and were the 3rd and 4th children.
Right now I am just writing just to be writing. I am sad that my aunt just passed away but relieved to know she won’t be suffering. Sad thinking that I won’t see her again or hear her voice or hear her laugh. She was an energetic lady, especially at 84. She worked until her accident. There are people in their 30s who won’t keep a job. Aunt Amy worked all her life.
May you rest in peace Aunt Amy. I know you are continuing your work with God
ON A PERSONAL NOTE: RIP Part 3
I got a little done today. I managed to call a few relatives to let them know about Dad and I called his pastor and left him a message. I want him to preside over the funeral. Emotionally I am shaky. I have not cried over Dad's passing and I have not felt devastated by it. The only time I became emotional though came after I saw the well wishes from people.
My office wife was able to get me the number for the acting boss of the office. My dealings with my immediate supervisor made it impossible for me to talk to her. She and the actual boss made my life miserable and created obstacles for me whenever they could. They will of course say that they made family leave available but truth be told they hindered me with leave restrictions and never offered me accommodations with my time.
ANYWAY, I spoke to the acting boss and told him about the situation and he was so compassionate. I was so used to the shady activity of the usual folks I was not prepared for someone who actually sounded like he cared. About three of my friends at work were told including my office wife. Within minutes she BBM'd me with condolences from a few co-workers. That's when I lost it. Tears streaming down my face. It was almost like I felt vindicated or something. Folks would ask about how dad was but I never fully realized that I worked with decent human beings (just this moment I got another email from a friend who told me about email circulated by the acting chief that was really nice and that is touching me). I remember while I was going through my hearings at work, co-workers who were never told about the hearings by me were wishing me good luck. I had to FIGHT in that office for my job simply because I chose my father over my job. I found out later how much I was respected by my peers because of that. Though people could never do anything about my situation or even defend me a few actually quietly wished me well and in some cases said a prayer for me. I cannot say how much this is touching me. I am crying even as I write this.
The texts came in and office wifey sent the condolences of five people. I got a couple of very nice emails including that immediate supervisor who gave me grief (I can only assume it was a nice email since I have yet to open it).
Part of the situation is I have grown used to working in a hostile environment, so the kindness caught me off guard. Don't get me wrong.....most of the people who work there are good people. It's just that there has been so much evil from the higher levels I forgot.
My office wife was able to get me the number for the acting boss of the office. My dealings with my immediate supervisor made it impossible for me to talk to her. She and the actual boss made my life miserable and created obstacles for me whenever they could. They will of course say that they made family leave available but truth be told they hindered me with leave restrictions and never offered me accommodations with my time.
ANYWAY, I spoke to the acting boss and told him about the situation and he was so compassionate. I was so used to the shady activity of the usual folks I was not prepared for someone who actually sounded like he cared. About three of my friends at work were told including my office wife. Within minutes she BBM'd me with condolences from a few co-workers. That's when I lost it. Tears streaming down my face. It was almost like I felt vindicated or something. Folks would ask about how dad was but I never fully realized that I worked with decent human beings (just this moment I got another email from a friend who told me about email circulated by the acting chief that was really nice and that is touching me). I remember while I was going through my hearings at work, co-workers who were never told about the hearings by me were wishing me good luck. I had to FIGHT in that office for my job simply because I chose my father over my job. I found out later how much I was respected by my peers because of that. Though people could never do anything about my situation or even defend me a few actually quietly wished me well and in some cases said a prayer for me. I cannot say how much this is touching me. I am crying even as I write this.
The texts came in and office wifey sent the condolences of five people. I got a couple of very nice emails including that immediate supervisor who gave me grief (I can only assume it was a nice email since I have yet to open it).
Part of the situation is I have grown used to working in a hostile environment, so the kindness caught me off guard. Don't get me wrong.....most of the people who work there are good people. It's just that there has been so much evil from the higher levels I forgot.
Friday, March 11, 2011
ON A PERSONAL NOTE: RIP Part 2
I managed to get about four hours of sleep last night. Not because I am devastated, but because my mind is racing. My head is filled with the people I still have to call and to be honest THAT is the worst part. Each time I have to tell someone that a person they loved is no longer here.
A little more than 12 hours after finding out that my best friend died I still feel a little anxious but surprisingly calm. Hopefully this feeling will last and that it all doesn't hit me all at once.
A little more than 12 hours after finding out that my best friend died I still feel a little anxious but surprisingly calm. Hopefully this feeling will last and that it all doesn't hit me all at once.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Alonzo Gibbs 7/20/1927-3/10/2011 RIP
Tonight I lost one of my VERY best friends. On Thursday March 10, 2011 my Dad Alonzo Gibbs went to be with the Lord. He was 83 years old.
Dad had health issues over the past few years. Most recently he had a fall while in Florida and broke his arm and had to spend Christmas in a nursing home in Florida and in the Bronx. All this while he dealt with Alzheimer's Disease which he was diagnosed with in 2008.
Dealing with Dad and his issues with dementia are the primary reason I started this blog some time ago. Caregiver issues and dealing with the elderly are huge issues and I thought that if ANYONE happened to read an entry and was able to get something from it I would be happy. It's a tough road to walk on your own.
I am not going to put too much into this entry. It's also not going to be my last on this issue. I just don't want to ramble. I DO want to thank God in every way shape and form for giving me to Alonzo (and Dorine )Gibbs . God could not have given me two better parents to grow up with. They were not perfect parents but they are the only ones I would want. They both did their best to raise me right and I am thankful.
Most of you reading have never met my Dad. He was gentle, loving, soft spoken and Godly. To know him was to love him. He constantly and willingly gave of himself
.I am at peace and comfortable that he is in heaven.
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