Catastrophe!

My wedding is scheduled for January 10th. Yesterday the hostess of my reception told me, she was too anxious to throw the party. She didn't think she could handle it. She fucking flaked! She flaked because she's too fucking delicate to handle the anxiety. So here I am with 11 days left to schedule a wedding reception.

She is fairly introverted.  She talks to people but she doesn't have a lot of friends. I didn't understand why because I really enjoyed being her friend. I liked talking to her because she was funny and supportive and friendly. I tried to offer her the same. She really suffers from anxiety. I referred her to an excellent psychiatrist a few months ago.  

I am an unapologetic extrovert. I suffer from anxiety too. I was super nervous.  I thrive around people though. I get my energy from being around people. 

Let me back it up a bit. I told her in August I was getting married. I wanted a small ceremony and a larger reception. She offered to have the reception at her house. She knew that this was outside her comfort zone but she wanted to do it because we were friends. I told her I would be with her every step of the way. 

Six weeks ago I confirmed with her, "Before I purchase invitations and mail them out, you're sure this is OK?" She assured me everything would go as planned. I mailed out the invitations to our friends.

Last week I was supposed to deliver some chairs and tables to her house. She cancelled. Then on Friday I received an email. It was from another friend she talked to about it.  She was freaking out about the whole thing.

I responded positively. I would help move her stuff, bring things on specific schedule, didn't want her to spend a dime and would do anything else she asked me to help her through this. I would even come back to her house the day after my wedding when I'm supposed to be celebrating with my sweetheart and help her clean up.  I texted her, "Let me help you. I can do everything if you will simply let people in the door."

I talked to her on Friday and offered to come by on the weekend and she was too busy. She was concerned that it would take me two trips to deliver the stuff.  It wasn't because I would drive that far twice.  She was concerned I would be in her house twice.  Her exact wording was, "You can't bring it in two cars to make it one trip? Oh and I do everything early. It'll have to be around 5 o'clock."  So Charles and I would both have to take off work early to get there on her schedule.  I put up a little resistance.  

On Sunday we agreed on Monday I would bring things she could load into her car. Then I would bring more things the next day, go to her house and unload both our cars to save a trip. She has back problems. I don't. I can do some heavy lifting.

Then on Monday she emailed me at 4:56 AM and said she wouldn't be at work because she was sick.  I decided to confront her and very specifically stated, "Every time I try to do these tasks you insist on completing you cancel. If you're trying to get out of this let me know now." 

Her response was, "I don't want to let you down but I think I'm going to have to back out." 

I said that was fine and hung up the phone.  I had nothing else to say.  I wasn't going to beg or argue or accuse her of being a chicken shit.  I wasn't going to say, "You should put on your big girl panties and follow through with your fucking commitment."  It's her house. It's her anxiety. It's her refusal to commit. She's the one willing to sacrifice a relationship. 

At least it wasn't the day before or the day of the wedding. At least I wouldn't have to spend my wedding day calling my friends to cancel and be left with a cake that could serve 36 people. At least I had 12 days to come up with an alternative.

I talked to Charles and he said, "A friend is someone who's willing to help you move. You were willing to help her move. She isn't. We'll be fine." 

I reminded myself the most important thing that will happen on January 10th is at 3:45 PM I will marry Charles. That's why we're in the middle of this commotion in the first place. Sure, we're in a pickle, but really, all I care about is that his sweet face will be there waiting to announce his intention to love me forever in front of our families, close friends and a judge with the power to make it so.  That was the one thing I had inside my control and for the love of kittens that is going to happen come hell or high water.  I love him. He loves me. We're going to make it a forever deal.

So, back to the story.  I have this friend who jumped into action. I was floundering with a "WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?!" attitude about the situation. Out of the blue she was ready to fix the situation. She totally rescued me.

She recommended this great little wine bar in East Austin.  You buy a bottle of wine.  They uncork it and you sit on a patio with a food trailer in the back and have yourself a nice bottle of wine and eat at the food trailer. The one issue was that you have to sit outside and it's January and the weather that night suggested we'd all be freezing.  We went to check it out anyway.  They have an attic where we could invite 15 people, buy wine, bring snacks, eat at the food trailer and have some good quality human connection. It will be perfect.

So it's fixed, sort of... This will work out better because I won't have to hold someone's hand.  If we made it to the party she would have fizzed out. Last night I had a series of thoughts about worst case scenarios. She would throw everyone out half an hour after they got there or she wouldn't open the door in the first place.  At least she gave me a bit of notice so I don't have my own fizz-out.

If she comes to me or calls me and begs for forgiveness I will say, "You are selfish and rude and I refuse to comfort you with my forgiveness. And furthermore I have no interest in pursuing our relationship." She'll cry and make excuses and I don't give a single shit. She's the one who has to cope with it.

On a lighter note, I had the following conversation with Charles last night: 

Me: So I handled this whole situation OK?

Him: Oh yeah. It reminded of me this kid when I lived in Marlin. We called him Mo-ped boy because he would ride this Mo-ped around town. He was mentally challenged though and never quite figured out how to turn on the brakes to stop it. He would just crash into the curb, get thrown off the bike, lay there for a minute, then pick himself up, brush himself off and go on about his business.

Me: I handled it like a retarded kid who was too retarded to operate the brakes on his Mo-ped?

Him: Well yeah, but he was a very determined individual. He was so determined to go about his business that he was willing to get thrown off the moped to do it.  You got thrown off your bike, laid there for a minute and then picked yourself up and brushed yourself off. There's no way to get out of this is there?

Me: Nope... 

And then I erupted in laughter.

And we're back

Mom's finally back home. She isn't completely mobile but she's got a walker and has taught herself to navigate through the house.  Her calves are in pathetic shape. She's got physical therapy though and they'll get her fixed up.

I watched a show on Netflix yesterday called "Exile". It has John Simm in it and I adore him so I enjoyed it because he was in it.  It also has Jim Broadbent who plays his father who has Alzheimer's. Oh for the love of kittens did it freak me out. I simply don't know what I would do if I had to watch that happen to my mother.

Not that Mom will get that. I just see her getting older and I see my responsibilities increasing.  I see Charles' mother getting older and further potential responsibility. I don't mind so much.  It doesn't even feel like an obligation but it is certainly intimidating.  I won't just dump mom off at the nearest nursing home and wish her luck. Charles won't do that to his mother either.

My mom told me things about the Nursing/Rehab facility where she stayed that really made me sad. She was so unhappy there but she put on a good face for me so I wouldn't feel guilty.  She added, "If you hadn't been there everyday like you were, I would be telling you a completely different story." 

One night she called me at 2:00AM because she wasn't able to get help to go to the bathroom and she'd wet the bed and no one would help her. I got in my car bleary-eyed, half dressed and pissed off. I charged into that building on a mission. The nurse was asked me, "Why didn't you call?" I simply said I didn't have the number. 

I knew my presence was a lot more formidable in person. I could intimidate them for the next six weeksby showing up on her second night at 2:00AM. I gave them a pass that night and didn't report them to the administration. They responded appropriately once I got there. 

The next time I called the administration. After that everyone loved my mom.  It may have been by force, but I do not care.  They had the choice to love my mom or lose their job. It was up to them.

Once she gained enough mobility to go to the bathroom herself she said she was fine, but the first 2 weeks were terrible.  It makes me sad to think she was up there faking it for me while she was suffering. I know they have limited staff.  I would have participated more. I just have to trust I did the best I could with the information I had.

She survived it with most of her dignity intact. She didn't complain while she was there and her complaints since she's been home were actually pretty mild. She respects that going up there every day was a chore for me and is thankful I did so they could see I gave a shit. 

Some of the patients had families who came to visit on a regular basis.  One woman's husband put a recliner in her room and stayed there with her. The woman across the hall from my mother who was suffering from dementia and horrible to her family had them coming with her laundry.  She was always dressed in matching outfits with matching shoes and socks. She was well cared for. There were others who sat in the middle of the room and begged to be talked to. 

I know I will need to do research on what happens next as she gets older. I know I will need to develop a plan to keep me and my relationships healthy. I will have to incorporate structure into her life that she would not create for herself. I will need to make sure she takes her medicine, eats enough, bathes and gets exercise. 

I will do with her like I do with my cats. I know she's far more complicated than my cats, but everyday I have morning and evening tasks for them. I will do the same for her.  I also have to fit in time to take care of myself in the mix. Thank goodness I participated in the training and volunteering with SafePlace. They taught me what to do and how to do it.

None of this is easy and some days it may be especially difficult but I hope I have the wisdom to know when I need to ask for help. I hope I have the ability to recognize when I need to change my routines. Mostly I hope I have the ability to take care of myself in the process.  

I have a crazy aunt who wasn't alright to begin with but chose to care for my grandmother.  She got that caretaker syndrome and it was really scary. The story in the end was really sad and weird and no one ended up okay. 

I love my mom too much for that to happen. I know next I will love Charles' mom too. I know we are a team in the fight against old age with our mothers but our love for them and each other is strong enough to do this as a team.