I tried to come back to this blog many times. It has been very difficult because I have been battling depression, fatigue, and plenty of family drama. I didn’t have time to sit and process my emotions, let alone write things out. Lots has been going on. It seems like things might finally be calming…maybe. I gotta work on it.
I started writing this post last July. I guess things were calm for a minute. I was unable to finish what I wanted to write and never published it. Some of it is hard to write about, still. Mostly because it is still very painful, somewhat because it is very complex. The family stuff. Complex. Too many emotions to deal with. Also, difficult to write about succinctly. Too much of it has roots in the past and to write about it all is to have to explain and rehash so much. I am trying little by little, when I have the energy and the attention span.
July 2023
It has been a year. From last July to this one. I am hoping things are getting better. Certainly, they are a little calmer compared to last fall and this past winter. I don’t know though, can’t trust the universe let me alone.
Last July my nephews called me in the middle of the night, asking for help. They were scared of their dad, they were tired of not being taken care, they felt like prisoners in their dad’s home. This was the first time they came to me and were really honest about how it was living with their dad. Previously, as far as I knew, they wanted to live with their dad, they loved living with their dad. I know they loved living with him because there was little to no supervision. They called me one time in winter 2022 wanting help because their dad had kicked them out of the house. They spent the night in a barn, sad and cold. I was up north at the time visiting my dad. By the time I got their message, they were back at their dad’s house and the storm had blown over. I had previously worked with my nephew Ken, as soon as he turned 18, to get him his ID and Social Security Card so he could try to get a job. His dad can’t be bothered with such things. My brother, their dad, just wants to be a part-time dad but with full-time control over his sons. He wants to be the “fun” parent and not do any of the mundane things that kids need, such as doctor and dental visits, checking in on school progress, making sure the kids emotional needs are met beyond saying I love you…
These boys need a lot more than he was providing and let’s just say him providing is a loose concept. Let me put this out there: my brother doesn’t work. He has never worked a traditional 40 hour a week, 9 to 5 type of job. He isn’t capable. He has worked for other people before but that is far in the past. He had his own roofing company that morphed into foreclosure/bank renovations and maintenance, but he screwed that up because he couldn’t get his ass up to do the work. The bulk of his business was supported by my dad and my dad did the bulk of the work. My brother relied on my dad to get stuff done and to take care of the financials. Yeah, he had people working for him, but it was getting harder and harder to find good people. Not to mention the fact that he screwed many of his workers over. So there went the business, my brother, the boys’ dad, has not worked for at all for I don’t know how long, but probably years. He does have a couple of rental houses, but one of his renters has not been paying rent and I have no idea about the other one. I didn’t know how my brother was supporting himself or the boys other than with help from my dad and help from government programs. My brother doesn’t have to worry about a house payment–his house was bought for him by my parents. He has a vehicle that I think my dad may have paid for (it is in my dad’s name), and I think my dad, to this day, my dad pays the insurance on. So my brother doesn’t really have those worries. He just has to worry about property tax (which my dad has paid for because my brother just can’t seem to manage), utilities, phone bill(s), and cable bill if he wants cable/internet. He does get a reduced rate for cable and internet because of his kids. I know the kids are on Medicaid. My brother has been on Medicaid too. I know they all get food assistance. So whatever he couldn’t get from assistance or from begging help from my parents, he got from unknown means. He did tell me he was selling marijuana. He may have alluded to selling other drugs. I’m not sure. I wanted to think it was just marijuana. I wanted to think the boys were being taken care of (even though I know my brother isn’t capable). I wanted to think the boys were happy and healthy.
But they weren’t. They are not. They called for help last July. They said things to me about their dad that I knew to be true, that I had observed over the years, but that I didn’t think they saw. They said, “dad’s a narcissist” and “dad doesn’t take care of us.” I know my brother has taken the boys to the afterhours clinic and the hospital, when necessary, but only when absolutely necessary. He has never taken them to wellness checkups or dental visits. I think he has taken 2 of the boys to counseling but only because the boys’ school forced him too because the boys got in trouble and kicked out of school. He drug is feet about it and the boys ended up missing a lot of school. My oldest nephew, who is now 19, ended up leaving school and never going back. He was forced into quitting because his dad wouldn’t do the necessary things to keep him in school or enroll him into another. The boys started realizing all this and saw how I helped my oldest nephew get his ID and Social Security card. It gave my oldest nephew some hope because before that, he was feeling pretty hopeless. My nephews said, “Dad turned Kenny into a bum.”
They felt like prisoners in this downward spiral that they didn’t know how to get out of. Were they truly imprisoned in their dad’s home, no. But they did feel trapped. They said they thought their dad was doing cocaine. He was paranoid and accused them of conspiring against him. I did talk to my brother and he said as much to me. He said that the boys weren’t acting right, he thought they were doing drugs and working with some of his friends that sold drugs. WTF! How do I deal with that? I know my brother isn’t capable of dealing with that because all he wanted to do was complain about it and blame everybody else, especially me and my parents, for being against him, for not supporting him, for not helping. WTF?!
It was a real mess but when I boiled down to the essentials, what I could see was 3 kids that did not have their needs met. Three boys that were on the wrong path because their dad put them there. Three boys that were scared, and scared of physical harm and harm to their future because they knew their dad would not help them break out of the morass that he created. The morass of drug use, mental illness, and dependency on others. They don’t even acknowledge the government programs because that is all they have ever known–the government provides you health insurance and food. That is the norm for them. BUT…
The boys were reaching out for help to break out of the cesspool they were stuck in.
It was a mess, a real mess. It is a mess. It is a lot to write about. I see my family a lot more clearly now than I did a year ago, well, than I ever did. It is hard to write about because it hurts, but also because it is so complicated and goes back so far.
Long story short:
July 2022, the boys had had enough.
The boys were walking down to my house one morning after their dad yelled and was acting psycho. I basically told my brother where the boys were, not having all the details yet. He picked them up while I was on the phone with him, and he immediately started yelling at them.
The boys ran to the neighbors when they got home.
The neighbors called the cops and CPS on my brother.
Cops came and arrested my brother on outstanding warrants.
I took the boys up north–we were going on vacation. This whole mess ruined our vacation, in part because I needed my dad’s help to get the boys up north. He came down to help but basically was in a holding pattern because he felt the need to bail my brother out of jail. Leave the asshole in jail! He won’t. My dad will not leave him in jail…he continuously bails my brother out of jail and more, even though every time he says it’s the last. It is never the last time. My dad told me that since Brent has been an adult, he has given or spent over and enormous amount of money, time, and resources on my brother. My brother never appreciates it. Never. My brother never changes. He continues to do whatever the fuck he wants and expects the rest of us to pay for it. Money, it isn’t even about the money. It’s the toll it has taken on our family, all for my brother to piss it away and insult us when he life doesn’t go his way. When he actually might have to do something for himself. When he is being made to take responsibility for his own bullshit. Needless to say, I don’t want anything to do him anymore. All I can think of is the word wastrel. He is a wastrel. It hurts to say it, to think it, but it is the truth.
The boys didn’t want to live with their dad anymore, with the 2 oldest being the most vocal about it.
My oldest nephew decided to live up north with grandpa. So far so good, but with a few bumps in the road. He has a job. Grandpa helped Ken get his driving permit and license, gave him use of a car. Ken is supposed to be working on getting his GED and going to counseling. That is not going so well. Also, Ken struggles with depression, lack of friends. I think Ken has or is on the edge of having schizotypal personality disorder, which is very sad.
CPS would do nothing for the 2 youngest. The worker did come out and said I could petition the court for custody Alex and Brent. He may or may not have told the boys had to be living with me…I can’t really remember. So Alex basically ran away from home and stayed away. He lived with me so I did file for custody. I could not try to get custody of my youngest nephew because, though he tried to run, he ended up back with his dad.
I was successful in obtaining first, temporary custody, and then full custody of Alex. It was a hassle just getting everything together and get down to the courthouse because I was trying not to take off from work (plus other things going on). Once I got temp custody of Alex, I was able to enroll him in school. His dad had disenrolled him. I got Alex’s medical records, birth certificate, Social Security card, ID, figured out his medical insurance, got him into the doctor’s office, and got a drug test (which only showed marijuana use). I eventually got him to the dentist–lots of work to be done there, 10 visits in and still not done with all the work–got him into counseling. The judge was a doll when I finally went in front of her. My brother didn’t show up, which upset Alex a little, perhaps more than he let on.
It has been rough, not going to lie. I want to help my nephews, but I don’t want to have to parent them. Not when it comes down to it. They want structure but they fight against it. I don’t want to deal with it. They are too much like their dad. I keep on keeping on.
*May 2024:
I kept on keeping on until my nephew wanted to keep picking fights with me and my husband. My nephew and I got into it on Mother’s Day 2023. That’s what I get for trying to do something for somebody. He ran off for 2 weeks but did come back to live with us. He decided to give us another chance and we decided to give him another one too. I had huge misgivings, but I wasn’t ready to give up on the kid. Until he got into it with my husband at the end of September. The kid ran off again after that argument and wanted to play the victim. It broke my heart, but I was done. If he didn’t want to live with us and follow a few basic rules, if he wanted to keep challenging us, picking fights, I couldn’t do it anymore. I was not going to beg the kid to stay. He took off, tried to come back but in a way where he wanted to make me beg him to stay. Unfortunately, the kid seems to act just like his dad. The kid is a damn narcissist, as much as I hate to say it. I tried with this kid. I took him to counseling–actually tried 2 counselors but neither worked out. I asked the school to recommend a counselor, but they could not. Nor could they point me in the direction of an addiction program for kids. It is so frustrating. The kid needed so much more than I could give, and so much more than he would actually accept. It was a losing battle. One that I was not prepared to fight any more. So he went back to his dad, though he claims he doesn’t want to live with his dad. He and his younger brother tried to live with my mom but that didn’t last. The boys are back with their dad and are basically still his prisoners. They don’t go to school. It is tragic. It still hurts.
THE BIG C
In July of 2022 my husband noticed a spot on his tongue. He thought it was just a cold sore and would go away. It did not. It got worse. He should have gone to the doctor, but we waited, thinking it was going to go away. It got bigger, and more painful. I took a picture of the sore and googled the picture. It looked like cancer.
He finally went to an afterhours clinic…they told him he needed to go to his family doctor. His family doctor took one look and sent him to an ENT. By this time, it was September. His sore had ulcerated. The ENT, Dr. Shukairy, got my husband set up for a biopsy. We had to wait about a week for the results. It was torture waiting that week. We kind of knew it was cancer but didn’t want to accept that it was. I kept hoping it wasn’t. It was cancer. It came back as: invasive moderately differentiated squamous cell carcinoma.
It was an ugly sore! It had grown to the size of a half dollar. The doc said they would set up surgery as soon as possible but he wanted my husband to have a head to thigh pet scan first. We had to wait about a week and a half for surgery. It seemed like such a long time to wait to get that nasty tumor out.
Surgery was in the beginning of October at McLaren Hospital, in Flint. Thankfully, the pet scan results were back before my husband went into surgery–the cancer hadn’t spread. The surgery was supposed to be fairly quick, with perhaps an overnight in the hospital. Once they took my husband into surgery, the nurse advised me to not wait around because it would be hours before I could see my husband. I would not be allowed in the recovery room after surgery. That was horrible! Stupid covid! I decided to leave the hospital to go get something to eat–I hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours. I decided Culver’s in Grand Blanc was the place to go–don’t ask me why. While I was at Culver’s, my stepson called me. His Uncle Pat, my husband’s older brother, was in the hospital at Genesys in Grand Blanc and was actively dying. What?!
My husband and I knew nothing about this. Pat had been living with his sister Carmel but had gone into a nursing facility. Unfortunately, Pat had numerous health issues and was prone to infections. We did not know that he was that bad off though. My stepson told me that he had just found out that Uncle Pat was not expected to survive the day and that his Aunt Carmel had called him to ask him to drive her up to Genesys and to be there with her as Pat lay dying. He couldn’t do it so he asked me if I could do it. I knew my husband would want me to be there, so I agreed to do it. I can’t remember now how the events worked out but somehow Carmel had gotten a ride up to Genesys. I just had to finish up my meal at Culvers and drive over to the hospital.
I was greeted at the door to Pat’s room with hugs from Carmel. I had only ever met Carmel one time, probably over 20 years before. Carmel was the black sheep of the family, to put it mildly. Pat’s son Calvin was expected soon, he was driving in from Lansing. Pat’s brother Wayne was trying to get up to the hospital too. I truly hadn’t believed that Pat was about to die, I thought maybe it was one of those things where he would miraculously come back from death’s door–it had happened before–but the nurse confirmed that his body had shut down and there was no coming back from that. In fact, they were just waiting for family to arrive and then they would stop all life support systems. Carmel was a mess. She had been taking care of Pat since they reconnected–perhaps a year or two.
Writing this now, I think, “How in the hell did I deal with this all? How did I stay so calm? How did I not fall apart?” I had a husband in one hospital and a brother-in-law actively dying in another. I was actually supposed to be in court that day, trying to get custody of my nephew but all of that got shifted farther out due to my husband’s cancer diagnosis. Thankfully, it was fairly easy to reschedule that court date.
Somehow, I held it together. I guess I was blessed with a cool head in times of trouble. There was even more going with family and work issues, but of course, nothing as important as these life and death situations. I was able to juggle all the issues, keep the less important stuff at bay while I dealt with what was most important. I don’t even know how…
Carmel and I sat with Pat, holding his hands. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to play Pat’s favorite music, the Beatles. Carmel and I sang along to Pat, and I think that helped keep us calm. I tried to soothe Carmel’s grief as best as I could. I tried not to think about my husband in surgery at McLaren. Something kept me calm, anyway. Thankfully.
At one point, Pat started seizing. Poor Carmel (and me too, but only a little) thought, hoped, that perhaps Pat was rallying and was trying to “wake up.” He twisted and twisted, trying to raise up in bed. He remained unconscious though, and the nurse informed us that it was a seizure.
Calvin and his family arrived. More Beatles music. Wayne and his family arrived. We all gathered at Pat’s bedside. Carmel did not want to take Pat off life support measures, but the nurse said that as soon as family got there, that was what was going to happen. I guess they were kinda afraid of how Carmel was going to deal with that as she had wavered back and forth in allowing that to happen. But there we all were, family was there. We were all saying our goodbyes. I think by that point I had received a call from the nurse at McLaren that my husband was out of surgery and had come through his surgery fine, and that he would eventually be transferred to a room. I was informed that I probably would not be able to visit him that day. What!? I guess it was an overnight stay for him. His tongue had swelled up (we expected that) and they had to keep him intubated. I decided it was best that I stay with Pat because I know my husband would have wanted me to.
My sister-in-law, Candy was saying her goodbye to Pat, going on in her overbearing way. I sat looking at the monitor as his son Calvin and Calvin’s wife were on either side of Pat’s bed, holding his hands. I stared at the monitor, slightly amused at Candy giving permission for Pat to pass on…
Pat just slipped away, peacefully. The monitor flatlined as I stared at it. I was lulled into some sense of acceptance and peace and didn’t even realize it at first. The nurse was in the corner of the room at her computer. Carmel talked about ending life support, and I kind of indicated to the monitor that that was no longer necessary. At the same time the nurse had noticed too. Pat had passed on.
I couldn’t even process that at that time. There were people to be informed of his death. I called Pat’s sisters. I called my stepson. I couldn’t call my husband. I would have to wait to tell my husband. He lay unconscious in another hospital. It was all so unreal. It was almost like Pat took my husband’s place. He passed so my husband could stay. I don’t know if I am being over dramatic.
I had to wait a few days to tell my husband. He was in ICU, still intubated. The first day or two, they kept him sedated until the swelling in his tongue went down. When he awoke, he wanted his phone. I could not give him his phone as he was still intubated, and I wanted to tell him about Pat but wanted to wait until he could talk. Family had already posted on social media of Pat’s passing so I could not give my husband his phone. It was a horrible situation. I had to be cheery, pretend that there was nothing wrong in the world, pretend to be an airhead who forgot his phone until he could be extubated. I told him though, as gently as I could, as soon as the tube was out. Somehow, we endured it all.
My husband was in the hospital for a week after surgery! That was unexpected. I got covid and could not visit him for most of the week. I did get a much-deserved rest, but my poor husband was lonely in the hospital. His spirits were buoyed by a visit from Beth (stepson’s now wife, gf at the time) and from his sister Kathleen and her husband. I called every day.
Thankfully, the cancer had not spread. The surgeon talked of doing more surgery to take out lymph nodes in my husband’s neck but decided against it. Thank God! A 6-week course of radiation was in order though. That started in December and lasted until the first week in February. It seemed longer than 6 weeks because of the holidays and a few times the radiation machine was out of order.
My husband is a real trooper though. He missed about a month of work because of the surgery but worked through almost all of his radiation until the last couple of weeks. It got to be a bit too much and was very tiring. He lost so much weight it was scary. He couldn’t eat the same, especially after the surgery. Before it was painful, but after it was difficult and painful. He not only had to heal but had to build strength back in his tongue. About a third of it had been removed. Then the radiation got painful…and knocked out his saliva glands. Some of those glands will never come back.
But he survived. We survive. Thank goodness for insurance. My husband had disability insurance, so we got a payout that covered the initial expenses of the surgery and the time he had to take off in October.
Thank goodness for family and friends! Thank God for all of you. My husband’s work was so awesome about providing transportation to and from radiation. My work was also very accommodating, allowing me to work around doctor’s appointments. The best of all was the benefit dinner. I was talking to my sis Cece about if Chuck would be able to work through radiation and all the cost involved. We were talking about minimizing Chuck’s stress. I said something like, “If I have to, I have this idea of throwing a spaghetti dinner to raise money for the radiation cost. I can get Kathleen to help me.” That was all I had to say. CeCe and my other sister-in-law Kathleen took my idea and ran with it. Before I knew it, and could prepare Chuck for it all, they had the benefit planned and in the works. A silent auction too. It was beautiful and something Chuck and I will never forget.
The benefit dinner. The benefit! It was almost like a “It’s a Wonderful Life” moment for my husband. So many people came out to support him. It really buoyed his spirits to get that much support. He was embarrassed at first but that passed quickly. It was just fun seeing everyone. It was a fun event and a great success. I will be forever grateful for all involved. Chuck and I both felt so blessed. Blessed for the support and blessed that he survived it all. Now we are in reset and recover mode. It takes a while to recover from all that and more.
Life is relentless.
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