Thursday, July 06, 2006

I don't often post anything pithy......

Jill-bear, one of my parents dogs, went quietly to sleep last night. At age 12, she was one of the best hunting dogs ever. The vet came over at 8:00 and dad made the decision to put her to sleep. She went with her head in my dad's arms, with the vet, a family friend and I all petting her and telling her how good a girl she was. She was a faithful companion and friend. She's already hunting in the afterlife. We buried her under the cedar tree on the side of my parent's land. She had lymphoma.

I'm not all broken up about it or anything. The thing that has me all messed up inside is that I had to be the adult again. The wise woman. To my parents.

Dad called at 7:15 and said in a voice I've rarely heard (the quiet and resigned one) that mom was on his ass and he really couldn't take it just now, and the vet was coming after a while. Could I please (yes, he said please) come out and give him some peace?I went. When I got there he asked in that same voice if I would please not tell mom he called. I told mom that I needed to get out of the house after all (mom and I had a little spat about me not wanting to come out this week to see her before we leave town Friday after work). I think she had been drinking. Don't know for sure.

She was some pissed that dad didn't come get her when he decided to put her to sleep. She was locked in her room. I explained that I really think once he made the decision he just couldn't wait on it - had to do it before he changed his mind.I had to tell her before I left that dad was grieving in his own way and that mom needed to understand that. She needed to let him find his peace in his own way and not hurt him further with her words or actions. I had to tell her that knowing when to let go of something or someone is a lesson that has to be learned by him alone. As is the knowledge that he can't run away from reality. But that she has to encourage him to learn, not hassle him about not knowing. She did come out and take some of the notes (passive aggressive mom leaves notes everywhere instead of saying what is on her mind) off his placemat, which is a real first.

Still, I'm tired of being the adult. I am so tired of having to be the crone. I am the crone now, and I think I always was. It's not an easy job.


Blogger Jenny said...

Don't ya have to wonder how they ever got along before you were born? I so relate to your story though - my parents are divorced so I don't have to navigate their relationship problems, but my mom is much like yours - always needing me to be the adult and bring her round back to reality and smooth things out between her and my sisters or whoever she is feeling "wounded" by this time. ((hugs)) to you from someone whose been there!

12:18 PM  
Blogger Suz said...

{{hugs}} to you for having to deal with your parents. I'm sorry that you have to play the jockey between those two, you shouldn't have to.

and {{hugs}} to your dad for Jill.

9:28 AM  
Blogger Karoline said...


2:25 PM  
Blogger ~Harsha~ said...

I don't know what to say... I will just send you tons of hugs. . ..

1:19 AM  

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