On Wednesday, I got up early to write because I knew I was only going to have a partial day at my desk. My niece, Amy, had contacted me and asked if I’d be able to help move some of her mother’s things from the home her parents built in the mid-1970s to an apartment in an independent living center. Sharleen, my sister-in-law, had been living there alone since my brother passed away three years ago.
Naturally, I said, “Yes.”
Shar…in days gone by.
I remember all too well when my sister and I moved our mother out of the home my husband had built for Mom to the very same independent living center. The move was fraught with emotion. You try to stay positive for your loved one but inside you’re dying a bit because change is hard and this change means your loved one is not the same person you want them to always be.
In my sister-in-law’s case, her health has declined since my brother died. Actually, even before that, the stress of caring for my brother at the end of his life took a heavy toll. Shar loved my brother almost as long as I’ve been alive. (I was five when they got married.) After he passed away, she tried to carry on with her business (Buchanan Hollow Nut Company), her art (watercolors) and her life, but her health just hasn’t been up to it. Depression is so not in her nature, but some days were too hard to get out of bed.
Christmas was a turning point. Shar made the decision. She needed people and routine in a safe, warm environment–not alone in a huge house twenty-five miles from town.
We all have good memories of this place. Shar’s room is directly above where my mother stayed. It’s only been a few days, and Shar told me yesterday she’s not sure she’s ready for this, but the people are friendly and so far she’s won several robust games of Scrabble. Fingers crossed the transition goes smoothly.
I’m sleeping better knowing she’s safe, but I’ll feel even better when I know she’s happy, too.
Have you had to deal with this sort of thing with a loved one? I’d be happy to pass along any tips for a smooth transition to Amy and Shar. Below is one of Shar’s watercolor paintings hanging in my house.
As you probably know by now, my second BookBub feature came out last week for HER HERO TO LOVE. The book has been selling well and I couldn’t be happier, but it’s still on sale through Valentine’s Day, so it’s still on my mind (hence this blog).
If you haven’t downloaded your free copy of HER HERO TO LOVE, you can grab it here from your favorite vendor: BOOKS2READ.
While setting up some promo this past week, I got thinking about “Men Friends” or, as some say: “Bromances.”
Because I’m a big fan of family sagas, I often choose to write about characters connected by birth, but not this time. The three heroes of the Love, Montana series are best friends. As different in personality and background as the Three Musketeers, Flynn, Tucker and Justin, are heroes in their own way—and hunks, any way you define the word.
This, of course, got me thinking about the Three Musketeers movies. When I Googled the title, I found listings from movie versions dating back to Don Ameche in 1939 (way before my time 😉 ) to a wide variety of cartoons and live action spin-offs, such as the Man In The Iron Mask.
My hubby and I watched the Steve Carell movie, BEAUTIFUL BOY, a few weeks ago without knowing what it was about: one family’s struggle with addiction–and all that encompasses: recovery, hope, relapse, loss and despair. It’s wonderfully acted and felt almost too real at times. Since the screenplay was based on a true story, I found hope in its ending.
Some people might not have enjoyed the movie because it hits too close to home. I honestly didn’t think that was possible in my world–until it happened. On Monday, I got word that a young man who worked for our construction company last year had died.
Since we knew Patrick was dealing with some challenges–depression, for one–when he worked for us, we are assuming his death at age twenty-eight means he lost the battle with his demons. I don’t need to know the specifics–I can imagine them much too vividly (thanks to the movie). What I do know is: my heart hurts for his family.
I also feel fortunate to have known him. Patrick was kind, considerate and more polite than anyone his age I know. We shared some laughs on the job site, and when he was late or missed work, we cut him some slack because we knew he was doing the best he could at the time. He quit after about eight months on the job because he felt like he was letting us down–he never did.
One takeaway from the movie that really hit home is: compassion. Whatever you think about people struggling with addiction and/or mental illness means nothing if someone you love is in its clutches. Give your love, sympathy, empathy, and compassion to anyone living with this reality. When I attend his funeral tomorrow, I will remember Patrick as a sweet, gentle young man with a great smile and a kind heart…even as I blink back my tears.
Two beautiful boys, Patrick (l) and my son, JP. March 2017
