Don’t you hate it when your child is sick? They whine and complain, they ‘hurt’ but cannot explain exactly where or how, they cry, wanting more ‘mom’ time but refuse to do as you plead with them to do. They cannot understand the meds they dislike. They don’t want to be ordered about. They are not quite honest about what is at stake and how they really are dealing with the day-to-day.

You want to scream. You want to run away. You want them to grow up or let you parent. Either side would work better than what you have in the here and now.

I just visited such a household. It was difficult. Who raised this jerk? I’m sorry. I know he cannot help it. I know his mom is almost ashamed, as is the sister who had to take on the task of raising this child. However, if he will not admit something is wrong when the TV show comes on, he should not be allowed to suddenly be at death’s door when it’s time to help with the dishes or the laundry. You cannot have it both ways. Neither can a sick kid, but that’s just my opinion.

What I know is I spent a horribly frustrating time with family, some overindulgent and some just plain angry and frustrated with the attention needed by one member being under the weather. What is the solution?

The obvious one is that you wait until the illness is past. That always helps. Everyone can relax. But, what if your child is brain-injured? That child will never really ‘recover’ from this illness. Those parents don’t get the opportunity to ‘wait it out’. They live this 24×7, and have no outlet unless they are fortunate enough to have a huge support group. A huge support group. Huge.

I am seeing commercials about health care. Morgan Freeman is a spokesperson for ‘something’. I get the message. We need to help each other more often than we do. I understand that volunteers are needed. I know we should be doing more for our own. What I do not have the answer to is: how?

How does the normal family get the much-needed help when someone in their household is not going to improve but takes a majority of your time and energy? We are all so busy now. We have so many needs to fulfill.

I came home a crying fool. Afraid I had not done enough for my family unit. Sleep-deprived, angry, upset, scared. What I left behind is the mom who still has to deal with this while I fly away. I did laundry, cooked meals, cleaned the house, made beds, pushed meds on a kid who refused to take them, ran errands, and did medical appointments so that she could finally get a break. It completely wore me out. I am spent. Finally, home, I have no energy left. I have a full week ahead of me and don’t know how I’ll manage it. Tomorrow she starts with more doctor appointments, meal prep, housework, and laundry. Taking the medicine we need is not easy. He needs medicine. She needs rest, medicine, and they both refuse it because they are not capable. He needs to be fed and clothed, not simple. He wants things his way; she wants him to wear his underwear UNDER his clothes, not on top. She wants him to eat and is exhausted with the work that entails. He will not drink his juice, wants specific foods and because he is not well, she wants to provide but is close to illness herself as a result.

When I left, we all cried. I promised to come back soon. I always make that fruitless promise. I cannot afford to keep flying there but these people are so important to me. My family is so scattered. Travel is expensive and of course. I have to pay someone to care for my pet, my home, my routine, in my absence. Money. Medical. Misery. What in the world is happening in our lives? Who should be taking care of this, of us, of lives in illness when something has prevented us from having family members to do it? Moreover, with those family members, where do you draw the line? They cannot do everything. We cannot expect anyone to do anything. What is the solution?

Forgive my soapbox here, but why is our country continually working on a new health care program instead of making the program that our elected officials have, the national norm? Shouldn’t everyone have the same option at the same price? It certainly makes sense to me.

So, my stepmother will continue. I know she is exhausted. And the recalcitrant sick boy is my father. How does something like this happen? Until we find solutions for our family members whose mind has eroded, we are all sick.

I had a great visit with a wonderful woman over the weekend. she is my stepdaughter.

we have been through so much together. when I met her, she was in 3rd grade, now a sophomore in college. the years have been amazing, the changes incredible.

we laughed about her different ‘phases’, the extreme shyness, the necessity of goth, the girly-girl times, the dates and the heartaches. she is slated to be more a friend now than a daughter and I’m fine with any circumstance. I love her dearly.

when we met she was going through the demise of her family unit. her parents had divorced but in her mind hope was always intact. when her dad and I married, she was not pleased. it was very difficult for both of us. I had worked with children all of my life, as a volunteer in various areas. a single professional woman, I had never married so had no children of my own but really loved kids. I was always the favorite aunt, the neat ‘mom’s best friend’, the fun next-door neighbor to kids but never a mom. I proceeded slowly, getting into her life. her dad wanted to rush us but I knew better. still, she was rushed and it hurt her. I was unwelcome. for the first time in my adult life, a child did not want a thing to do with me. I was so surprised,  hurt, and confused. I tried everything,  I thought.

what I finally had to relent to was the unvarnished truth. after a particularly bad visit I was finished. I had no thoughts of trying further. by this time she was a freshman in high school. she had done some unforgivable thing and I was shattered by the memory.

when she came back, I invited her to have a talk. I laid my cards on the table. I loved her. I had worked very hard to love her. it was not something that just happened because I married her dad. it was a conscious decision and I had to be certain it took. I loved her. I would do anything in the world for her. I was so sorry about her parents’ divorce and her upheaval but I had nothing to do with any of it. I was also a child of divorce and knew the pain. I simply married a man I had fallen in love with. a divorced man. and she came along with the package.

I asked her to please tell me 3 or 4 things I had done to cause her pain, to hurt her, to make her angry. I wanted to know so that I could try to improve but I was fatigued with being treated badly and being unwelcome in my own home and life. I did not intend to allow any more ill treatment. she cried. she explained that it was nothing I had done. she said I had always been wonderful to her. she knew I loved her. then she said it was not me, it was what I represented: that her parents were really over.

what a huge statement for a young girl. what a truth.

we both cried, held each other for the loss each of us had suffered and for the mending we were needing .

after that day, we went into sync. our relationship began to flourish. we had both learned huge lessons. I believed I had known just what to do with my new kids, to help them like me and then maybe love me. yet, I could not have really understood their feelings. I wasn’t them, they weren’t me. we all had to navigate this together and mostly, we had to be willing. one person in a relationship cannot maintain without the other being engaged.

she is a young woman and I am an older lady. we have 13 years’ history. we have a relationship that will continue in some version even though we will never again live near each other and even though she is now watching her father move out of my life. she is something of a niece to me now. a friend. a daughter of a friend. my daughter. she is important to my life. she needs no label. neither do I.

we have love, respect and enough history to understand each other. we have continuity. how lucky is that?