The days after Christmas is such a letdown for me, after all the hype of shopping, mostly online for me; decorating, what little I did and already have taken down and put away; being with and visiting my boys, now at their own home; listening to Christmas music or watching the Christmas movies, knowing that they will abruptly end within days, if not already. Over and done! Christmas 2020 is all wrapped up, pictures taken and memories we hold dearly as we go into a new year.
I tend to go through this withdrawal mode and a sense of depression hits, as the month of January is boring to me. The weather is too cold, it gets dark way too early and nothing is happening. With this Covid19 mess, things are even more at a standstill. Yes, Valentine’s Day is to follow but that is just another day for me. At least it pushes us all into spring, better weather, longer daylight hours to enjoy outside and upcoming Easter, etc.
The country song by Merle Haggard, “If we make it through December, everything’s gonna to be all right I know,” fits except December replaced with January. One day turns into the next and soon adjustment of it all falls into place. Just like that, January will come and go, just like it does each year. Slowly I will and we all will adapt, and we will do it all over again next year for Christmas 2021. I will still struggle with the withdrawals of it all, yet again.
Do you keep your Christmas decorations and tree up until after the New Year? My parents did, but I could never do that. To have time off work, I put it all away. Maybe I do need to leave it all up through January. Nope. I don’t think I could handle it. Let’s just get the new year started and hope for the best, better than this past year.
Let’s keep moving forward, hope and pray that the 2021 New Year will bring back the hugs we have all missed, the social settings and get togethers with family and friends. I miss all of those moments and I would say that you do, too. Stay safe and healthy!
Psalm 3:3But you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head high.
No doubt you have heard, ‘Driving Miss Daisy’ or have seen the cute movie. Yesterday, I was Miss Daisy and have been in the past. My husband of thirty-one years is my Uber driver for medical procedures only when required, otherwise I am on my own.
I have had my share of procedures and surgeries in my life. The medical side of it all does not phase me, I find it interesting. To know what to expect, I usually Google or YouTube to watch prior to the actual procedures. I know some are reading this and thinking, Oh No! I do. If I mention or ask questions, which I do, the doctor or dentist will look shocked. I want to know. I found myself yesterday sitting up and looking over at the instruments going to be used on me, while waiting on the team to finalize their stuff. The nurse asked if I was okay, which made me realize what I was doing. Part of me wanted to be awake to watch and learn. Although, I knew I’d rather be knocked out and I was.
As with all medical procedures, as such, no driving, no making legal decisions and recommended that someone should be home or near the day of surgery or procedure, especially. Normal stuff, right?
No matter and all through the years, I have found that my husband stinks at this requirement. The driving to and from is fine. It is the aftercare that he has no sense of what to do, even when told. It’s free time off work and off he goes to play disc golf or whatever. Yesterday was no exception. Of course, I am resting and laying low but to not even ask if I was okay, needed anything, etc., did not happen. I see him drive off into the wild blue yonder. Part of me perturbed yet again, but I’ve learned to just throw up my hands and give up. I have to be strong and push through. Don’t mess with his routine of playing disc golf, the same time, every day. I could be dead and he’d never know. The routine business of his day for him is typical of having Aspergers.
I just don’t understand him and odds are he does not understand me. Opposites attract is correct, I guess. After this length of time, neither of us care. Just drive me to and from for required circumstances and we both can go on our own way thereafter. It would just be nice to have been doted on more in my life instead of just expecting me to pick up and go, even after major surgery, of which I have done numerous times. I am woman, I am strong, I can do it all. I have had to. It gets old and I am getting old.
To write and read this and to believe he does such, just trust me. I just don’t understand and find it sad. Once, I had written down what to do and how this day of surgery was to take place for me. I thought he understood, as we discussed. It was in black and white, numbered and all he had to do was follow the steps and be at the hospital at the time of my surgery. He was not there. The surgeon allowed extra time to wait on him and then talked to me as I am there in the surgery waiting area to go through the doors of the operating room. He did not want to continue with surgery because of his absence. He was mad. I was mad but what was I to do? I told him to continue on, I was fine with going forward. I was alone before, I was alone at this point and I will always be alone. There you go. Thankfully, I always wake from anesthesia quick, and I really think the Lord knows I need to do so in order to keep things moving forward at home.
Thinking back of such incidents, telling my counselor of what I have dealt with, it seems unreal. Like my thoughts and telling my stories are lies. Unbelievable, but they are all real. Whether it be Aspergers or just a lack of common sense, I don’t know but it is what it is. Knowing where I am now, my health has and is taking a beating from the pressure. This makes me angry and to see him drive off to go play while I could use a bottle of water and a snack perhaps. I’ll go get it myself.
One thing about it, I had a ride to and a ride from the procedure, as he drove Miss Daisy.
So in all of this, not meaning to whine and have a poor me, pity party, perhaps it will wake someone up that is reading this or knows of someone similar, as to how not to treat your loved one. They are out there, whether man or woman, and clueless of what is required and needed for such medical or just day-to-day existence.
We are wired to be loved and cared for in life, especially in a relationship. Otherwise, it is very lonely and after awhile you learn to let go and not need the other so much. Sad.
“Do not be afraid or discouraged, forthe LORD will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.” (Deuteronomy 31:8 NLT)
Tonight, I relived yet again the sound of a flat, monotone man, reminding me of all the years with him, yes with a roll of the eyes and a cringe. It is past his bedtime and we have a cat outside, in the freezing temps, as he calls for it. When I ask a question or see of any luck, I get the dreaded sound. Like a pout, boo boo, I want my bed, I need my sleep, it is past my bedtime. Life ends at 10:00 pm in our household, that has been since from day one. The cats even have to be in and quiet. Yes, and strangely enough they are, like he has programmed them. Well, so am I programmed basically.
Many women, wives, that I have had the opportunity to share a group for wives of Aspergers spouses, I hear this so often. The look, the voice, nothing but a stare. We are left to manage or figure out things and take care of matters. Knowing I am not alone in this endeavor feels good, as this has only been available to me the past six years. The previous twenty-nine years, I dealt with it, learn to despise and finally to the point of it all making me feel completely crazy. Thank God I had a counselor that pinpointed what was happening and what I was dealing with.
Many do not know about Aspergers or understand. I did not until 2014, which turned on a light in my dark, lonely tunnel I was living in. There is so much to this and the routine of it all, is amazing, especially with mine. Meeting or socializing can only be maintained in short periods and then a shutdown, which is typical in most. Whether it be with me, kids, his parents, company or whoever and I am left holding the conversation or visit, if it is bedtime or a ritual that is set.
So much. So much flooded my mind as I opened the door. Why did I even do that? Closing it, on the grouchy pants outside, he is just that, especially after his bedtime.
Thinking back of when we had kids and those teenage years when boys are just being boys, that did not go over well. Many times, I am sitting with them as their dad appears at the door to remind them to be quiet. I, too, as his wife and their mother was in trouble. I understand respect of being quiet at bedtime but not putting the fear of him on our kids, and me. No.
Try having a newborn and keeping it quiet after 10:00 pm. Not possible. The only thing was to go in the other room and tend to this beautiful child by holding him close to nurse and both of us falling asleep on the couch night after night, for months, if not a year. He did not care. He needed his sleep uninterrupted, just as he is today.
I wonder how he will be when he is older. Actually, I do not want to know. Jokingly, I have told him that if he even gets like his dad, I will put his butt in a nursing home. He thinks I am kidding.
So the grouchy pants of him has now made me grouchy thinking back of all the years I have dealt with this. Oh the stories I could tell. This story is yet to be continued but it repeats itself, day after day.
Here is some information that you or another may find helpful.
Just Pondering... 
