The Year 2008 In Words
January came and I was working everyday. The grandbabies were coming over and all was wonderful until January 28. That’s the day my back gave out. Thus began my unmerciful rehabilitation to wellness. I spent every other day at the chiropractor and four days a week at physical therapy. I was taking several different types of pain killers and still my back was uncooperative.
February found me turning 47. My friend took me out for my birthday dinner, we had steak and then saw a Kate Hudson movie, called ‘Fool’s Gold’. I should have saw something else that night. I don’t go to the movies much and when I did, I see a flopper of a movie. But my night was really wonderful, filled with good food, good times and great company. I was still spending four days a week at physical therapy. I had an MRI and I was still taking several different types of pain killers, my back was uncooperative, and my spirits were sagging.
March marched in a second birthday party for Brody. Becca made him a ‘Cars’ cake. He was incredibly cute and his sister was adorable. The weather was still icy, snowy and plain out cold. I was taking photographs, but writing was becoming an obsolete forum for me. I had zero inspiration and less gumption. I was still spending four days a week at physical therapy. I was left in so much pain that some days I sat in my truck for an hour before I could lift my leg to put it on the brake pedal to turn the ignition. I was on a couple different narcotics, but they only seemed to dampen my already sagging spirits. They did nothing to ease the pain.
April brought Easter and with it was an announcement that Becca was having a third baby. Brody just turned two, Cloey just 6 months old and Becca thinks she’s due in December. Great is all I could think ... Great. I quit smoking April 13 at 11:59 pm. I quit taking the narcotics. I hated the way they made me feel. I finally received my sick pay from work. Paperwork mishap they claimed. I believe I may have starved had it not been for the love and caring of my friend. The doctor having no other tricks up his sleeves for the pain I felt, made me an appointment at the pain clinic.
May delivered me to the pain clinic. I had waited six weeks for this appointment, and on the 22nd, I walked into the clinic hunched over, limping, unable to take off my jacket. The doctor felt me, prodded me, pricked me, poked me and listened to me. He told me after 1-1/2 hours the he had a diagnosis and a treatment. I was stunned, I was skeptical. He gave me a series of deep muscle shots. There were nine in all, each shot very painful, but I started to become more optimistic after the about the 4th or 5th shot. He told me I was just feeling the numbing effects of the shots, but that feeling would prove to last. I walked out of the clinic two hours after entering - 95% pain free. Unreal! It felt like euphoria. I woke up the next day with about 75% of the pain gone. It stayed gone and I was able to return to work. Ironically, school had let out or the summer... I think someone was playing tricks on me.
June was my daughters 22nd birthday. She was living at her mother in law’s in a two bedroom trailer. I was trying to learn to stop judging her and her choices.
"White Trash. For many, the name evokes images of trailer parks, homegrown meth labs, and beat up Camaros, rural poor whites with too many kids and not enough government cheese. It’s a putdown for the down and out and white. White trash is the name given to those whites who don’t make it, either because they’re too lazy or too stupid. Or maybe because something’s wrong with their inbred genes. Whatever the reason, it’s their own damn fault they live like that. They’ve got nobody to blame but themselves."
Excerpt taken from: http://nsrc.sfsu.edu/article/white_trash
This is a sad statement, but when I think of my daughter, this is clearly how I think of her. It’s a shame, because I didn’t raise her to act this way. I leave April clearly failing at non-judgmental thoughts.
July flies in and finds me remaining essentially pain free. My Scott turns 25 this month. I am busy getting ready for Scott’s wedding. I did what I could to help out and got Becca who was standing up in the wedding ready. Her husband didn’t believe she should go to the wedding. Such a waste of human skin that man is - oops think nonjudgmental thoughts Tammy - On July 31st Becca calls me to tell me to come and get her, she and waste of human skin are divorcing. HALLELUJAH!! That thought will prove to be short lived.
August moved my pregnant daughter and her two children home with me. She wants a divorce. I have a houseful of guests and a wedding in a couple days. I put her life on the back burner and enjoy my son’s wedding. It was beautiful. My daughter-in-law and my son make me so very proud. They are in school, she graduated and went back for a bachelor's degree, he is near graduation. They both work and are stashing away a down payment on a home. After a very happy occasion, I sat down with Becca and asked her what she wanted. A divorce she said. I researched divorce and found a way that I could do it for her without the lawyer fees. I am a quick learn but I feel like I pulled off a miracle when she was able to file it 8 days later. I even found a way to waive the filing fees for her, so here I though I accomplished exactly what she wanted, but that thought too would prove to be short lived. Becca asked me to come to her OB appointment with her in mid August. One of the tests the doctor had taken on the baby came back positive for Down’s Syndrome. She was scheduled for an amniocentesis. The wait was excruciating. She told me she would have the baby no matter what. Whew! I would have supported any decision she made, but I prayed for that one. The tests came back negative this time. The baby (girl) was perfect, without any sort of birth defects. I thanked God.
September eased in with the beauty only September can muster. I was finally back to work. Something I had not done in almost seven months. I was nervous about my back, as it was giving me twinges of pain now and again, but so far so good. Becca and the children were still living with me and Becca was working the welfare system only like one of her kind know how to ... she plans on going to school to be an x-ray technician. Her classes start in January. She’s getting money, food stamps and medical care from the state. Then one afternoon a man calls. It is the father of a girl my daughter’s husband is seeing. The father asks me what his problem is. I just listened and hear this man tell me that his daughter is in ‘love’ with Becca’s husband and that he would like to kill him. Then Becca took the phone and went outside with it. She talked to this man for over an hour. She was fully aware that her husband was laying with another woman while she - pregnant with their third baby - sobbed her nights away. Her husband moved back to town and moved in with his mother a few miles away from me. Becca snuck off to be with him. She never once told me the truth. I could have handled her telling me she was going to be with him and try to make it work out. She decides to lie to me all the while. She filed for full custody of the children and got it, she talked of her future without him. She never told me she was contemplating moving in with his mother to be with him.
October warms my soul just because it is October. The pumpkins, corn, apples and cinnamon smells delight me in ways nothing else does. I took a little day trip with my friend to his grandfather’s home in Montague. We took the long way home and stopped at the apple orchard. We had an amazing time. October also saw my granddaughter turn one. It was simply a gorgeous day. Then the day came that Becca left. At 10:00 am that very morning I asked her if she was going back with her husband. She replied, "I don’t know." At 10:10 am his family shows up to move her out. Seems he sent them the day before to get her. Husband had written a note saying, "It’s time. Get your stuff and get in the truck with my mom and come home." She decided to wait a day to tell me that she was going. It was ugly and I lost my temper. I had it with her and them. Get the fuck out of my home and my life. I still cry when I think of that day, but I meant it then and I mean it now. I hate what she put me through. I hate her husband. He is mean to my daughter. He lays his hands on her, he lays with other women on her, and to her it’s all okay. I think it’s disgusting beyond belief. They deserve each other. Then I hear him tell me how everything was my fault. How I forced her into getting a divorce. Fuck 'em all and the horse they rode in on is what I think about both of them. I love my grandchildren, I’ll do anything I can for them, but as far as my daughter goes, I’ll talk of things like the weather. Nothing of importance. I can’t care anymore. Caring about her only proves to hurt me so deeply I can’t heal from it. So in September I stopped, period.
November brought more pain. My back went out again. I was so scared that it would be like the last time. I called my pain clinic and they had closed down. I had to find another pain clinic and start all over again. It wasn’t but two days and I was in the new clinic getting treatment. Lumbar epidural steroid injections, two nerve blocks, and trigger point injections. Then my daddy got sick - really sick. His poor lungs were wore out already when he got a ‘touch’ of pneumonia. He went to the hospital on a Friday and they admitted him. On Monday he was taking a breathing treatment when he simply stopped breathing. He told the medical staff he wanted to be intubated. They put him on a ventilator. We were told he might die. The doctor sat us down and told us if te ventilator didn’t work, we would have to sit down for a long difficult talk. He stayed on it through Thanksgiving. He was seriously ill when he came off of it. He had some major psychosis issues. We were assured that the psychosis was due to the medicine and would subside. He couldn’t walk, his stamina was nil. He was so weak. Mom couldn't take him home, so I helped her admit him into the nursing home for rehabilitation. It was a very difficult day.
December brought hope. It took several weeks for the psychosis to leave daddy. He was settling into his routine at the nursing home. He was able to come to my house for Christmas Eve brunch. My daughter and her husband came with both the children, my mother was here. My son came, his wife had to work. And then to my surprise, two of my son’s childhood friends come. These two men were like my own as they grew up. One of my parent’s good friends came over as well. It was such a sweet, special Christmas for me. Daddy went back to the nursing home about 5:00 that night. When everyone was gone, I was left in the glow of Christmas. I went to my friends house the next day to spend time with him and his family. I enjoy my time with him, it is too little bit of time as far as I'm concerned. I have a difficult time committing myself with a long distance relationship. But that’s for another day... This day I was relishing being there, until 11:55 when my daughter called to tell me she was ready to have the baby. It was a false alarm.
My third grandchild, Daisy Ray came into the world on December 29th at 2:59 p.m. She weighed 8 pounds 3.3 ounces and was 21-1/2 inches long. I think she was Becca’s most beautiful baby at birth. 
