(no subject)
When the world seems to spin out of control, you do what you can to maintain the illusion of control.
As I type, one of the most amazing people I have ever met is dying. Marlane Berendes, a former coworker at Spokandy, saved me from my Saturdays working downtown at the factory. She showed me proper form for dipping nuts when I was slow with customers and sick of packing boxes and she listened to me bitch about the job, adding her own opinions on matters regarding Todd Davis and Spokandy, not to mention all the other girls that worked retail on Saturday...she was not a fan. She was the first person at the downtown store to tell me how things worked there and she was so no-nonsense; I couldn't help but fall in love with her. She was a bitter old woman who smoked a lot and took no shit from Todd. But when she smiled, there was no better smile and her laugh was even better. I loved making her laugh. She was a tiny, woman and I always thought I would crush her when we hugged, but she was also surprisingly strong. When she retired, she had worked at Spokandy longer than Todd, a whopping 16 years, which was one more than our fearless leader. I wished she were my grandma. I was annoyed that her grandchildren didn't understand how amazing she was. I wanted to protect her from anyone who made her life harder than it had to be, but I understood that Marlane was an independent sort of woman and she would take care of herself. When she talked about her daughter I could not picture her, then Monica started working at Spokandy too and although they looked and acted so different, there was no disputing the relation.
When she retired I gave her seeds to plant her garden, which she did not have the energy or time to care for while she worked. I kept her number in my phone, but I never called. I asked Monica about her when we worked together, but I never visited. Monica assured me of what I already knew, that Marlane missed me and that I was her favorite. She was mine too.
On my last day, Monica brought Marlane to see me and say goodbye. I think I told her I'd visit. Again, I did not. In January I went to LA for a gift show with Natalie. She told me that Marlane's diabetes had gotten so bad her feet were dead and they did a double amputation just above her knees. She'll never know that her daughter had to make the tough call and sign those papers just before Christmas. In January, she was adjusting and had even started joking about her loss of limbs. She just wanted to go home and get out of the nursing home, where she was receiving physical therapy. I told Monica that I wanted to see her. I wanted to visit. We planned for a weekend in two weeks. Then I got sick and I didn't want her to catch it. It was a nasty cold that lasted 4 weeks and I knew it would be bad if she caught it. The weekend that I was supposed to visit her, I still went to Spokane and I had dinner with Monica, Natalie, Russ, Heather, Barb (Heather's mother-in-law) and Gwen (Heather's baby). Monica didn't say much about Marlane, but she did say she was doing alright and I expressed wanting to visit, but not wanting to give her my cold. Monica understood...I think.
Today I wrote an email to Natalie and I told her we need to plan to visit Marlane. I even suggested a day. Her response was that the doctor had called Monica at work and that he had done all he could. There was a complication with her double amputation. They tried to remove more of her legs. She ended up with MRSA. I texted Monica, not wanting to be too invasive, trying to figure out what I could do, how I could possibly help. Something. Anything. Nothing. There is nothing I can do. I called my mom. She told me I knew this day would come. She was right. It was still hard to hear. Mom suggested I call. I asked Monica if I could. Her response..."She isn't talking." I asked Monica to tell her I love her, and I told Monica that I love her too. I know she relayed the message. So maybe I did get to say goodbye. It still hurts.
I cannot control what is happening in Spokane. I cannot be there to comfort and grieve. Tomorrow I will have to get through my day, see all my clients, hear all of their problems, and not break down. I can control nothing but myself in all of this.
A list of things I can control:
-my laundry
-the cleanliness of my room
-the amount of paperwork I accomplish
-the time I go to bed and the time I wake up tomorrow
-the food I make for dinner
-my personal hygeine
-the speed of my rental car
-the smile I put on my face
-the clothes I choose to wear
-the music I listen to
-the movie I choose as background noise while I clean my room
-the make up I will probably put on tomorrow in an attempt to control the tears tomorrow.
I won't bother writing a list of what I cannot control. That list would be far more exhaustive and is much more obvious.
Tomorrow after work I will have dinner with my family for my brother's birthday. I will have Val give him the $50 she insists she owes me, as his gift. I will go through the motions, happily. Then I'll go to Randi's mom's house and play on the wii with her and Justin.
What will be, will be.
As I type, one of the most amazing people I have ever met is dying. Marlane Berendes, a former coworker at Spokandy, saved me from my Saturdays working downtown at the factory. She showed me proper form for dipping nuts when I was slow with customers and sick of packing boxes and she listened to me bitch about the job, adding her own opinions on matters regarding Todd Davis and Spokandy, not to mention all the other girls that worked retail on Saturday...she was not a fan. She was the first person at the downtown store to tell me how things worked there and she was so no-nonsense; I couldn't help but fall in love with her. She was a bitter old woman who smoked a lot and took no shit from Todd. But when she smiled, there was no better smile and her laugh was even better. I loved making her laugh. She was a tiny, woman and I always thought I would crush her when we hugged, but she was also surprisingly strong. When she retired, she had worked at Spokandy longer than Todd, a whopping 16 years, which was one more than our fearless leader. I wished she were my grandma. I was annoyed that her grandchildren didn't understand how amazing she was. I wanted to protect her from anyone who made her life harder than it had to be, but I understood that Marlane was an independent sort of woman and she would take care of herself. When she talked about her daughter I could not picture her, then Monica started working at Spokandy too and although they looked and acted so different, there was no disputing the relation.
When she retired I gave her seeds to plant her garden, which she did not have the energy or time to care for while she worked. I kept her number in my phone, but I never called. I asked Monica about her when we worked together, but I never visited. Monica assured me of what I already knew, that Marlane missed me and that I was her favorite. She was mine too.
On my last day, Monica brought Marlane to see me and say goodbye. I think I told her I'd visit. Again, I did not. In January I went to LA for a gift show with Natalie. She told me that Marlane's diabetes had gotten so bad her feet were dead and they did a double amputation just above her knees. She'll never know that her daughter had to make the tough call and sign those papers just before Christmas. In January, she was adjusting and had even started joking about her loss of limbs. She just wanted to go home and get out of the nursing home, where she was receiving physical therapy. I told Monica that I wanted to see her. I wanted to visit. We planned for a weekend in two weeks. Then I got sick and I didn't want her to catch it. It was a nasty cold that lasted 4 weeks and I knew it would be bad if she caught it. The weekend that I was supposed to visit her, I still went to Spokane and I had dinner with Monica, Natalie, Russ, Heather, Barb (Heather's mother-in-law) and Gwen (Heather's baby). Monica didn't say much about Marlane, but she did say she was doing alright and I expressed wanting to visit, but not wanting to give her my cold. Monica understood...I think.
Today I wrote an email to Natalie and I told her we need to plan to visit Marlane. I even suggested a day. Her response was that the doctor had called Monica at work and that he had done all he could. There was a complication with her double amputation. They tried to remove more of her legs. She ended up with MRSA. I texted Monica, not wanting to be too invasive, trying to figure out what I could do, how I could possibly help. Something. Anything. Nothing. There is nothing I can do. I called my mom. She told me I knew this day would come. She was right. It was still hard to hear. Mom suggested I call. I asked Monica if I could. Her response..."She isn't talking." I asked Monica to tell her I love her, and I told Monica that I love her too. I know she relayed the message. So maybe I did get to say goodbye. It still hurts.
I cannot control what is happening in Spokane. I cannot be there to comfort and grieve. Tomorrow I will have to get through my day, see all my clients, hear all of their problems, and not break down. I can control nothing but myself in all of this.
A list of things I can control:
-my laundry
-the cleanliness of my room
-the amount of paperwork I accomplish
-the time I go to bed and the time I wake up tomorrow
-the food I make for dinner
-my personal hygeine
-the speed of my rental car
-the smile I put on my face
-the clothes I choose to wear
-the music I listen to
-the movie I choose as background noise while I clean my room
-the make up I will probably put on tomorrow in an attempt to control the tears tomorrow.
I won't bother writing a list of what I cannot control. That list would be far more exhaustive and is much more obvious.
Tomorrow after work I will have dinner with my family for my brother's birthday. I will have Val give him the $50 she insists she owes me, as his gift. I will go through the motions, happily. Then I'll go to Randi's mom's house and play on the wii with her and Justin.
What will be, will be.