Monday, May 26, 2014

I Lost My “Gibbs” This Weekend.

Norm1

This weekend my Grandpa Eschbach died.  The funny thing is, I don’t believe that I ever, not even once, called him grandpa…just Norm, good ol’ Norm.  You see, biologically speaking, he wasn’t my grandpa, he was my step-grandfather.  He became my grandfather when I was 16 and my dad married his daughter Judy, almost precisely 26 years prior to his passing.  He had actually been in my life for much longer, I just didn’t know who he was.  My entire childhood I constantly saw him uptown at restaurant, the gas station and at church, but I really only knew him as that “short, funny guy”.  I can hear his distinctive laugh in my head as I type this, I’m really going to miss that laugh.

I believe that he understood exactly what a handful his daughter was facing when she decided to take me on as a son, and he operated behind the scenes to do his best to try to keep me in line.  On a regular basis his technique of choice was a slap upside the back of my head that varied in force depending on my transgression.  That’s right, long before Gibbs was delivering “DiNozzo slaps” on NCIS, I was catching them from Norm.  He wouldn’t deliver them around other people and he would always catch me when I wasn’t expecting them and then follow it up with a talk about what I did to bring it upon myself.

I’d like to share a quick story from my life for those of you who may not have been lucky enough to have known Norm or maybe witnessed his incredible paternal side. 

When I was still only 15, Norm helped me get my first job.  He knew that I was looking, and told me that he would put in a good word for me at the gas station uptown.  He and the owner were good friends so having him behind me was good enough to get me a few hours a week to prove myself.  I worked up there for a little less than two years and it was where I got the majority of my early slaps.  Usually, he would just stop in to talk and pass the time, but he would regularly stop in to give me a slap and discuss one of my issues that he had heard about.  Several that I don’t even think my parents knew about that he had heard through the grapevine.  For lack of a better way of saying it, my tenure at the gas station ended in a very unceremonious manner, and left many in my family embarrassed and in a very uncomfortable position with the owner (Norm and my dad, in particular).  I avoided Norm to the best of my ability for weeks afterward.  One day at the grocery store I was stunned by an unexpected and rather forceful slap to the back of my head.  Sure enough, it was Norm.  He gave me a look that set me back another couple of steps, and then he very gently led me into an empty aisle.  This is all that was said:

Norm:  Are you sorry?

Me: Yes.

Norm: Are you making this right?

Me: Yes.

Norm: Good.

…And he just walked off.  The topic was never brought up again, and he treated me just as he always had before the incident.  I caught many more slaps over the years, but they became fewer and farther between over the years.  Somewhere in my early 30’s they stopped completely.  I guess he finally though that I had my crap together enough not to need them anymore.  In all honesty, I missed them.

I was initially looking for pictures Norm by himself to put at the top of this, but what I discovered should have been obvious all along.  There are no pictures of Norm by himself.  Norm never alone.  He was always surrounded by friends and family.  He loved to talk, to listen, and most importantly, to laugh.  The only thing more difficult to find than a picture of Norm alone would be one of him not smiling.

Norm was 97 and lived an incredibly full life.  While he will be missed by everyone, I hope that this week will be much more about celebrating his incredible life than about our individual mourning for our loss. 

Due to my illness, I will not be able to attend the celebration of his life this week, and it pains me deeply to have to miss it.  My hope is that those who knew him will read this and smile understanding the love that Norm had for everyone and that those who did not know him will wish that you had.

I love ya Norm…Grandpa.  Though you’ve physically left, your example, love and laughter will be with me forever, and if I ever feel a sudden gust of air at the back of my head after I’ve done something stupid, I’ll know that it’s you giving me my slap.

---Michael

Sunday, May 4, 2014

What Not to Say



Lately I've had a few people say one thing or the other in regards to Mike that have rubbed me the wrong way.  Now...  I totally get that they mean well and I admit that I'm a bit over protective and over sensitive.  But, the words still sting.  After hearing one today...  "at least it's not cancer"...  I decided to make a list of things not to say and came across a few good articles and other blogs on the subject.  I compiled them and these are the ones that stick out to me.

1.  Just think positive and you'll feel better!

This is like saying that he's not doing enough or trying hard enough to get better.  Believe me....  if he could feel well, he would!  He has tried everything from medication, exercises, biofeedback, prayer, positive feedback, and pretending he feels 100%.  Sadly...  it doesn't work.  If it did... he wouldn't be sick.

2.  You don't look sick.

Why not just say "what you have isn't real, it's just in your head".  Chronic illness is often hidden.  Unless you live with the person and see it day to day, it's not obvious that taking a shower fatigues them for several hours making it difficult to even get dressed.  With Mike, after a shower and morning routine he feels like he's ran the Boston Marathon!!

3.  God only gives you what you can handle. 

Telling someone that God picked them to suffer does not help at all.  Period.  One blog I read said that a better option is to just say you'll pray for calm and peace.

4.  You look terrible.

You're right.  They often do look terrible.  Sometimes they have to pick and choose what they spend their energy on.  For Mike...  one of those thing is not shaving on a regular basis or taking the time to press his clothes before he gets dressed.  And honestly...  I'm ok with that!

6.  I know how you feel, I had a bad migraine for 2 days last week.

OK...  Guilty!  Not going to lie!  I have tried very hard NOT to complain to Mike when I have a headache.  But the truth is, I have no idea how he feels because I've not had a headache every day for the last 9 months straight with little relief.  And, my headache hasn't impacted my social life, professional life, emotional life, sex life, etc.

7.  Well...  at least it's not cancer.

Someone said this to me today about Mike.  It was HARD to bite my tongue and not lash out!  Yes, I am glad he doesn't have cancer!  But he is struggling with many of the same things cancer patients struggle with.  Nausea, sever fatigue, weakness, depression, anxiety, fear, frustration, pain, etc.  AND...  this comment also sounds like he should feel guilty for feeling sick when there are others who are "more sick" than he is.  Illness should not be ranked.

8.  At least you get to stay home and relax all day.

I guarantee if you say this to Mike...  you might want to duck!  There are a million things he'd rather be doing and work is at the top of that list.  Followed closely by attending social functions, playing volleyball with his daughter, playing basketball with his son, hiking the mountains with our friends, going out on a date with his wife...  the list goes on and on.

9.  I'm sorry.

Chronic illness is not a funeral.  This condolence just seems a bit out of place.


Now that I've given you the "thall shall not" list...  here's a few things you CAN do or say.
  • I'm not sure what to say, but I want you to know I care.
  • How can I learn more about....?
  • How can I help support you and your family?
  • What is important for me to know about your illness?
  • Is there anything you want to talk about?  I'm here to listen.
  • How can I help you be more comfortable?
  • How can I help your day go smoother?
  • How can I pray for you?
If you've already said something that may have stung someone, simply apologize and try again.  They'll understand and be grateful you cared enough to apologize.