Zombies, Mummies, Witches, and Nervous Breakdowns

Well hello hello hello. Croc here, finally back from what felt like living in the movie "Night of the Living Dead". This has been one of the most trying months of my life, and it's still going. If you are ready for a wild ride, pour yourself a glass of wine or whiskey, or heck, get yourself a glass of milk.

Comfortable? OK, let's begin.

My Paternal Grandmother has Allzheimer's. I usually go eat dinner with her every Sunday, but three Sundays ago, she fell and split open her lip. Then, three days later, she fell again and split it open again. Her health took a dramatic turn for the worse and she was put on a convalescent wing of her care facility. Her blood pressure was dropping, and she had to be restrained in the bed, and she was refusing almost all food and drink. We thought we were going to lose her. She has, however, gotten better and when I saw her the other day, she was sitting in a wheelchair and she remembered me. I wheeled her all over the wing, and she waved at people passing by. She also had a HUGE smile for the very handsome young nurse she had. I hate Allzheimer's, and I hate that it is stealing my grandmother, but as long as she can remember those who lover her, and she can lead a reasonably happy life, then I am glad she is still here, but pray God will take her before the disease takes everything.

OK, so that was the bummer part of the story that I cannot in any way shape or form make funny. But the rest of it I sure can!

My dad is a total Mama's boy. He obviously did not handle this last month very well. My dad is usually the most even keeled guy you'd ever have the exhasperating pleasure to meet. Everything is routine. He wakes up at 5:05 am, and goes to bed at 10:35pm. He washes his car by hand every Saturday at 6:15 am, then he gardens. If he deviates from that, the neighbors get antsy and wonder if they should call the police to search the house for foul play. He is consistent, and accurate. He is never extremely happy or sad. He gets his hair cut every third Saturday of the month, then immediately comes home and showers. He eats a banana, a green apple, and a pita pocket turkey sandwich EVERY day for lunch. He's the "rock" of the family, always predictable, always rational and logical.

My mom is like a weathervane. You never know which way the wind will blow, but chances are, she'll be pointing in that direction. She has melodramtic outbursts of mental illness. We call them "Episodes." These episodes pretty much ruled my universe as a child. She got so bad during my teen years that I left home. Hey, I figured sanity was worth more than a high school diploma! She finally got on some medication about a year ago, but it doesn't always keep things copasetic. Her Episodes are usually comprised of yelling, screaming, name-calling, threats of hating you for the rest of her life, then weeping, and sometimes a suicide threat.

Are my parents like the most oddly matched couple or what? 36 years and still together, can you imagine?

My middle brother was once a Scout Sniper for the United States Marine Corps. He's accurate and deadly in everything he does. Everything is black or white. He is alot like my dad, but doesn't like to admit it, and is a total mama's boy.

My mom and dad own a print shop. My brother is their sales guy. My mom works there two days a week. They have seven or eight employees. I know what you're thinking- "OH NO!!! Don't tell me they all work together! This sounds like a train wreck just waiting to happen. I can't read on! I can't! Oh! It's going to be terrible! Oh nooooooooooo........"

Are ya still there?

OK, so my mom has been very angry at my dad for some unknown reason. Don't get me wrong- I could have known all about it, I just refuse to get involved. None of my beeswax and I like it that way. You see, I used to let my parents put me in the middle of all of their stupid and childish arguments, but then I shelled out a couple grand to therapists, and also went to church counseling and they all told me to STAY OUT OF IT. For the last two years, I have been soooooooo happy because I haven't allowed myself to get on the "crazy train". Every time my mom or dad would call me and try to get me to mediate one of their lame fights, I used to get sucked in and play the peace maker, hoping to achieve hero status when all was resolved. But boy oh boy, if things didn't work out, I got all the blame for meddling and butting in. I got so sick of being a puddle of nerves and tears and figured my poor hubby didn't deserve a ticket by association on the Crazy Train, so I got help and got the heck out!

For two blissfull years, I have sat on the phone serenly while my mom blubbered and threatened ans screamed. I would simply say, "I am so sorry you feel that way. I'm here to listen, but I really cannot get involved. It doesn't mean I don't love you, I just can't get in the middle, OK?" Any time my dad called and said, "Mom's flipping out. Will you please call her therapist? I don't know how to handle her." I have been able to tell him, "Sorry dad, she's your wife and you can call her therapist. I'm sure you understand." Ahhhhhhh, it's been so nice....until...

BLAMMO! Mom brings TWO boxes of Kleenex into the print shop and has a full on BLOWOUT in front of the employees (imagine working there- how uncomfortable!) screaming at my dad while he and everyone else sits there in shock and my brother takes her outside and tells her she has to leave her personal problems at home, and that she should go home and calm down. She threatens to go home and call the bank and the credit accounts and have everything shut down because it's half her company. She leaves in a rage, burning rubber on the streets of Huntington Beach.

Dad and brother call me asking me to go to her house and head her off at the pass. This is serious, she has to be stopped before she does permanent damage to the print shop. Would I please "take one for the team" and try to stop her? Never mind I have three children to care for and a Neighborhood Watch meeting with 40 people attending in just a few hours. My guest bathroom is maybe a little cleaner than a Chevron gas station bathroom, there are toys all over the house, and I have 6 dozen cookies to bake. I TOTALLY have time for this garbage! Besides, don't forget my vow to stay out of the middle of this stuff!

I get to her house before her, kids in tow, and needless to say, she rips into me. It was a nightmare and her screaming is still ringing in my ears. My brother arrived, and the two of us tried to talk sense into her. She never called the bank, but she called me a few choice words. I haven't spoken to her since, but she has certainly sent me some nasty emails. I replied calmly to some of them, but then remembered there's no winning with her, and finally decided to bow out gracefully.

So, that's just one day in a month of crazy days. I have also been working a few hours a day and am still fighting to save my neighborhood. All this drama has taken every second of my spare time, and I just wanted you all to know that I am still living, but that I have been bitten by Zombies, chased by Mummies, and cackled at by witches. I can't even garden! Tonight I barely made it outside in time to water the plants in the back yard before it got too dark to see!

So, PLEASE! Cheer me up! Crack some jokes at my expense, and make me laugh! Find the humor in this little drama, and show it to me! I want to laugh about all of this. Not at granny though. Well, OK she does make me laugh when she yells at the cat that lives at her facility, and insists that the cat sleeps in her bed every night. I have it on good authority that indeed, Tiger does NOT sleep on her bed. In fact, he avoids her suite entirely.

I hope I get time to check back soon, you guys! I miss all of you!

HUGS!
Lisa