Nobody Would Believe Us....

Warning: This post is honest. If honesty disturbs you. Don't read my blog, ever.... I wouldn't want to scare or offend you. You are already having too much fun in your perfect world:)

I do not share the following for pity....(The only pity I need, is the fact that the Superman and I didn't understand "family planning" and now have five teenagers under one roof ;))

Kelli and I say often...Nobody would believe us if we told them...What life for us was really like for us growing up....It's a best selling novel (which i will write, I'm serious), a hoarding reality show(which I watch when I need motivation to clean my house) and a bad day time talk show(the only thing than got me through the preschool years) all rolled into our reality...And no...even we don't understand it.....




Do you know what its like to drive you mother to the emergency room after she has made a complete arse of herself at a restaurant while out with her young Grandchildren....Eating her T-bone steak, like a chicken drumstick and flinging food everywhere, slurring her speech....She needed her stomach pumped, she had oded before we picked her up for dinner...It was Father's Day....

Or what it's like to pick up a Bacel margarine container, to throw it out and realize your mother had used it as a toilet...and then to find more than a dozen just like it, strung throughout her filthy home...Her explanation she was too tired.

Or what it's like to have to call the police, because your mother has disappeared....Police officers, K-9 units searched, her picture appeared on the 11o'clock news....We found her the next morning...getting her hair done...She had spent the night in a crisis bed for abused women (she wasn't one) "Well at least now, I know you care about me" her only explanation....

Or getting the call from ICU..."Your Mom is here on life support"  walking into her room while she is conscious, but still intubated...She writes on a white board "Why did you let me live!!"....

Or what it is like to have to sign the papers to commit your mother??

We do.

Do you know what it's like to have your father call 15 times a day and remember nothing???

Or, watching him shake uncontrollable because he can't get the wine bottle open fast enough?

Or, getting a call from Adult Protective Services???

Or, realizing that your father has nearly starved himself because he has forgotten how to eat or bathe or dress??

We do.

I don't even bother to ask why Kelli and I won such a lottery....But the reality is we were raised by two mentally ill parents in a home plagued by alcoholism and neglect. Not really the "Love at Home" reality one hopes for....

But in some unexplainable way we always knew we were loved. It was our normal and we had each other....

Somewhere in my teens I remember thinking "something is seriously wrong with her", But I knew nothing of Mental illness...even though we had spent our short life time living it...

Marriage for me and BYU for Kelli took us away. We were running.

Three years later Mom's diagnosis came....psychiatrists, hospitals and eight out of control years followed...Death brought stillness, but little peace.

That was eight years ago...

Three or four years later... we could no longer deny that Dad was self destructing, But our hands were tied as he pushed everyone and thing away. Every manner of help refused. Until the call from APS came, allowing us to bring Dad home in February...Dementia and lifestyle had taken an unreversable toll...He died on Good Friday.

Do you know what its like to walk into your mother's home, 6 month's after her death...With garbage bags, gloves and a dumpster and painfully sort thru mountains of garbage to find baby pictures and birth certificates and heirlooms?

Or eight years later,  six months after your fathers death walking into a home, you swore you would never return to, with gloves , masks and garbage bags and a dumpster and sort thru deplorable conditions to find something not destroyed by rodents or animals to remember your father by?

Kelli and I have been to hell and back with both our parents...It's something even we don't fully understand. But I can tell you that there is no consolation prize here...Trips to Disneyland, Inheritances, Heirlooms do not soften the blow. I know people mean well when they refer to such things as  benefits....But for me...its a sad reminder of their tormented lives. Sad compensation.



Our real compensation here: Strength and Hope in our lives now.  Instead of our upbringing destroying our lives it has solidified our faith. Both Kelli and I have been blessed with beautiful families, that do not resemble the chaos of our childhood. The legacy my parents leave is not that of their illness and dysfunction but reflected in the lives of their eight grandchildren....And their daughters. There is always hope.

The grief and pain is still tender for Kelli and I, hearts still ache especially when its quiet and still. Tears flow often. Understanding friends lighten the load. Those who say weird things,  just add to our ever  growing "How does it feel to be an orphan?" list of Dumb questions. AKA: What not to ask/say to those who have buried or are buring a loved one....