Wicked October - by Cara Potapshyn Meyers

Unfortunate occurrences seem to haunt me during the latter part of October. I had a bad car accident on October 21st sixteen years ago. I ended up with chronic pain for four years straight (one of the reasons I’m a Later Mom). I continue to have intermittent pain as a result from that accident, although I am thankful that I have quality of life today.

My father was hit by a truck walking down the street on October 25th and suffered a subdural hematoma (bleeding in the brain) ten years ago and required months and months of intensive medical treatment.

Yesterday, October 26th, at her bi-annual check-up, my female dog was diagnosed with metastatic cancer of the spleen. She is not a candidate for surgery as she is 17 1/2 years old (120 years old in human years), and is too anemic to perform surgery on. The best we can do is give her quality of life for as long as possible.

Although she is 17, she has been a part of our family for roughly 13 years. We rescued her from a shelter at age 4. She instantly bonded with my husband and considers him the sun, moon and stars above. Her second favorite family member is my son. She has been his Nanny Dog since the day he came home from the hospital. When she would hear him crying over the monitor, she would pace back and forth, desperate to comfort him. As my son became older, she let our son do absolutely anything to her, as if my son was her “puppy”. When my son was a toddler and learned to brush his teeth, we had to buy a second toddler toothbrush so that our son could brush our female dog's teeth also. He would stack toys on her, ride her, roll on her, pull her whiskers...she never flinched. He was her "puppy."

Since she has gotten older and more frail, my son started bonding more with our far bigger and younger male dog, Maxi. Maxi and my son are "buddies." Maxi waits for my son to come home at the end of the day and smiles when he sees his "buddy" home! My son, much bigger now, does to Maxi what he used to do to our female dog. He rides Maxi, helps walk Maxi, rolls on the floor, hugging Maxi and receives "kisses" from Maxi in return. The bonds have switched. In a way I am glad. Our female now has a limited life span. Maxi, according to our Vet, has a "healthy, happy full life ahead of him," even at age 13. 

I have books put aside to read with my son as our female dog's days are numbered. One book is called "Saying Goodbye to LuLu." Our female dog is named Lama, but we refer to her as LuLu at times. It is a perfect book to read with him about a boy who is losing his own dog. I hope it will help my son cope with the process of losing Lama.

I am secretly glad that my son is establishing a stronger and stronger bond with Maxi. After our never ending divorce, Lama would have lived with my husband. Maxi will stay with us. As Lama will be approaching her demise, I am relieved to know that my son with be living with and already have established a solid bond with Maxi. It hopefully will lessen the pain and grief for him.

Presently, our son is assisting us in cooking ground beef for Lama...her appetite is fair. We are buying her favorite foods and offering them to her in between her naps. With every bite, my son is elated. At the same time, it is hurtful to watch. My son thinks he is helping her to get better and be the dog he has always known. He doesn't comprehend that her life may have to end very soon.

I am also thankful that Lama didn't die on Halloween...my son's favorite time of year, despite the fact that he hates sweets. He just loves getting dressed up and parading around in his costume. Had Lama died, his adoration of Halloween would diminish significantly. He already will be losing too much in his young life. He doesn't need to add his favorite time of year to the list.

Wicked October. Thank goodness November is here.

Perspective -- by Gina

Today is a gorgeous day; blue skies, sunny, 61 degrees – quite a welcome departure from the snow and storms we’ve had so recently. You wouldn’t think that just this past weekend was a storm that took down power lines and trees every few blocks in the northeast. I can even hear the sound of spring - kids happily playing outside after a long winter indoors.

But despite the bright weather, today is also a dark day. Today I heard the news that a friend’s child is losing his battle with cancer.

My eyes teared up as chills ran down my spine. I wondered how the parents are going to get through it, and how frightened and utterly devastated they all must be. I said a silent prayer for them. But what can you really say or do at a time like this – when someone’s world is crashing down around them, when their heart is surely breaking into a million pieces?

For me, this is one of those moments that “puts it all in perspective”… in a big way.

I’d been having a rough week with my daughter, Gianna. Between racing around to get to my full time job on time, nursing her through her most recent cold, chasing her around the house with Tylenol and nose spray, dealing with her tantrums and the worst part, hardly getting any sleep all week. She has been scared of sleeping alone in her room, and has been finding her way out of bed and downstairs asking for.. well.. you name it -another cup of water, some company, the option to sleep with me and my husband in our bed. This week, my patience has been worn thin and my energy even thinner. While I was at work one day, Gianna discovered my permanent markers and decided to decorate her arms, hands and knees with them. A trying week, that is, until you are reminded of what a trying week truly is... and someone helps you to put your own trivial complaints into perspective.

So tonight I will give my daughter a big hug, and probably kiss her so much she wipes her face, sneering, “Ugh! I don’t like kisses!”

Today, my heart goes out to all the parents out there facing the truly unfaceable. It is not until I became a mom that I understood what my sister, herself a mother, meant when she told me, “Congratulations. Now your heart exists outside your body.” I have never felt such incredible emotions in my life until having a child… the highs and lows of pure love, true joy, fierce strength, and utter sorrow. Your heart is literally out of your control. No wonder we parents are always exhausted. It is not just the physical and the day-to-day errands, school, etc. – I’m convinced it is the emotional exhaustion that wears us out. Loving someone so totally and completely with all your heart is a risky business, despite all we get in return.

“Later moms” face the unique challenge of dealing with the fear that we may not be around for our kids due to our advanced age, and hand in hand with that fear comes regret for not having become parents earlier in our lives. Again, for me, hearing today’s sad news puts the “later mom remorse” smack into its rightful place. The back of my mind, way far back so I can focus on the important stuff: loving and caring for my child today, not worrying so much about what in our lives is “not right”, living in the present, and being incredibly grateful for the messy playroom, the runny nose I’ve wiped what seems like fifty times today, and yes, even the misdirected permanent marker.