Saturday, March 23, 2013


FINAL THOUGHTS

No, the Greek has not returned to give us all a look from the other side.
Instead, he has left a void, huge and unfillable with the trivia of this world. Last night, we went to see a local version of Jesus Christ, Superstar.  I cried through
every song.  Why?  George was" just a man,".  Sound familiar?  But, his suffering and his desire to have this cup taken from him was too familiar in every word of the songs sung in that play. Yes, he was just a man, but he suffered, was rejected by those who before had befriended him, by family that should have enclosed and comforted him and  in the end, his choice was preordained.

I was going to tell you of how MS devoured him.  Of all the terrible symptoms that he endured with a calm spirit, an almost unearthly calmness that was so alien to a doer, a man who got things done impatiently, who never waited until tomorrow.  Well, he got a hard lesson.  He found that there are things you cannot do, no matter what your strength of will or resolve. 

I can continue for many pages, revealing so much about who George was, the man who thought he was very simple, not deep, not a thinker.  His blog and his endurance of the last five years gave us the truth about who he was.  I cannot be more eloquent or profound than he, himself was.

So, I write these words as the last that will be on this blog. As he said, time will pass, life moves on, last years leaves drop, become the mulch for the next spring, and then are forgotten.  He accepted the  flow of life.  He did not accept the injustice of it, or maybe, in the end, he did. 

I will leave it for you the reader, to mull over all that he said, and decide.
After George died, I found the attached picture folded in his wallet.  It speaks volumes of what finally drove him to make his personal choice. 

As his Mother, I will hold him in my heart each day and night, trying to preserve
the memories that I know will fade with time.  I am writing my thoughts on my own blog, Xaidw Speaks.com.  It is dark and sad, and I do not know if it will ever change.  I do know, that for the first two weeks after his death, I could feel him close by.  Now, it is as if he has left, disappeared into the atmosphere, gone completely.

I know we will all move on, whatever that means.  His words, though, have influenced many of you.  You have told me and commented on his blog.  He would have been surprised, but secretly gratified.  After all, he was a simple man.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

The Tipping Point


     Today is the end of a journey. A journey that unless one lived in my body one could not even fathom. Although its not the end most would desire, it is to me. See when I was diagnosed in the year of 2007 I was the first to the front lines, fighting with fury as did Leonitas and the 300 as he pit bulled the Persians at The Hot Gates. But even Leonitas knew when his time had come, and like him so do I. My Papou Andy was a warrior. I have always felt as if I was the mimic of him. A Greek immigrant he lived until his late 90's when he would tell me, "yorgos god dont need me and the devil don't want me!". He like Leonitas was at the end of his journey and after 7 days of starving himself he went to be with my yiyia milly, somewhere up there , as tirelessly he had enough, and as crude as it sounds I will always admire him.
     So my journey. Fourty four years, 39 great, 5 a living hell, as I along with my family and friends have watched with fear the degradation of my body, my physical body. Sure I have heard it a million times ms doesn't define you, but ya know what you can keep that shit, as I lay here after my care taker maneuvered me back and forth wiping and cleaning as I have become individually insufficient. There are individuals that really are amazing, guys like Christopher Reeves, and even my buddy Marc Stecker "kazmo" I call him. They seem to trudge along no matter how shitty things are, using their deficiencies as others admiration. I have also performed this way, but I didn't sign up for that and although I have fought like a crazy madman, I refuse to allow my condition to become to the point where my faculty is in a state of confusion or cognitive and physical deterioration has put me at that complete care of others.
       I am at my tipping point and as I write this from the bed I have slumped in the last 2.5 months days in my parents front room, I declare today the end of my journey. Call it what you would like, declare it as quitting or surrendering, but unless you personally have lived it then shut the hell up, because when you are done reading you will get up and go to the fridge, or jump in you car, neither of which I can do. Don't judge me, I said from day one I would give it hell, but I will be damned if I plan to be the poster boy. My choice. This has been a rough week. Failed baclofen pump relief attempt, staples fresh like spring flowers, no relief and instead two ugly slices in me and magnified weakness and paralysis. Life for me is about washing the truck, cutting the grass, shoveling the snow and at this stage none of these delights may I physically partake.
      Living away from my former bride of what would have been 19 years this week, and separated from living with my four beautiful children since December has been equally devastating, and something I thought my family would never be a product of. I am however, thankful of what a wonderful caring mother she is, and knowing the kids are in the best hands is an immense relief. However, life has taken some crazy turns, and instead of things gelling, they have become unglued. Imagine being in bed incapacitated and as your caretaker is care taking, you are on the phone answering questions from your divorce attorney. Imagine.
      The woman in my life who is the most amazing being is my mother. Through thick and thin, rain and shine, snow and ice she has lifted me both literally and figuratively for a long long time especially when I needed it most. Her love and support truly defines relationships between a mother and son, and I can picture her sitting beneath the maple tree, pretty hazel eyes, long gray hair that she is saving for some darn charity, and a smile at me that reminds me of love and love only, without prejudice. I love you so much.  You deserve piece and treasure from the heavens for what you have done for me.  For my parents I am truly ever so grateful.
     My sisters are both amazing , and as I know they'll be devastated, I want Dana to know I recognized her eight million times she has reached out to me, and usually receiving nothing back just because I'm too damn sick at the time to return the favor. I love you both.
     My boys Niko Charlie and Mikey,I love you more than the world, please respect and admire my good qualities, and show the world yours. Niko, the show must go on, please dedicate this one to me, give it your best ever, and use me as the catalyst that drives this one." Bye bye big "g". Charlie the
great debater will be the countries finest attorney, and Mikey you melt my heart with your authentic love so real and true. Im getting the ranch together.
      My daughter, the princess, Stacia, your face so gorgeous engrained in my brain, the coolest person I have ever known I have loved you since the second you arrived. Butterfly kisses tonight. Dad, fix the damn spinal stenosis, and contrary to what an other has precluded, you know how much I love you, from little league coach to council.
     To Uncle mike I send huge kudos for what you've taught and will continue to teach my son your nephew Mikey. What you have done for him is beyond what I ever dreamt and for this I am indebted to you.
     Once the Spartan Army had been exhausted, the country's reinforcements took over, as the soldiers finished the job so will my predecessors. Life goes on. People move on. They love, live, grieve, and so on. It's like the fall leaves on the ground raked and mulched, ready for next springs growth. Those old leaves will be forgotten about and next season so will the new ones. The fact is they all had their journey, flourished when they could, and fell when it was time. When they emerged they gave it all they had, soaking in the spring rains and the summer sun and taking their fall when they hit the tipping point
     . I have hit the tipping point and all I care to conclude is see ya on the other Side, washing my truck, cutting the grass, and shoveling the snow. This is who i really am and what contents and completes me. Excuse my pride and dignity as it is what defines me.  If I have to expose my anus to one more nurse for impact ion relief or have to go through another straight cath I will puke.  See this as a relief to a proud sufferer as opposed to a defeat...the tipping point!
      There is one gripe I would like to share.  For three weeks I spent post surgery and for the days and months suffering that seemed so endless, is it that difficult for friends  ├ánd love ones past to send a text, a call, a letter?  I don't want to be patronized and I know you can't make your heart feel something you dont but what are we robots?  Are we all just so caught up in our worlds we cannot fathom what spending 24 hrs in bed must be like enough to just say hello I am thinking of you? As far as I am concerned this world is filled with selfishness and hypcrocy.  As well as a whole lot of BULLHIT!