Ties That Bind

Written and saved, January 2011

Shared for a very short time.

Pulled, closed, too soon.

Years have passed.

Feelings remain.

Someone reading

will understand

how time cannot erase

. . . the ties that bind.

Those first few years 

my husband's death 

was like walking

in a fog.

I remember 

the first year 

without my husband.

 

How did I move 

through that time, 

those days 

after the early morning 

of his passing? 

Back then

I couldn't write

about those times. 

Now I find words 

come to the surface 

wanting to be seen and heard. 

I still get a lump in my throat,

tears that form deep inside. 

I've not found it easy 

to cry since we parted. 

For me, 

it's taken 

going through 

the total change.

 

It's what happens 

when the cycle of 

your living/dying experience 

has moved past a point

each individual life marks. 

For me, 

it was his death, 

Mom's death,

and the death 

of our long time 

family pet, our cat. 

Mom always said,

the "good" and the "bad"

often come in threes.

She had many interesting

ideas from her culture.

Time of beginning, 

different perspectives, 

moving into 

another phase of life -- 

a change 

as significant 

as night into day.

When my husband passed, 

I went through a few of his things 

while our sons & families 

were in town for the funeral.

Ties. 

Easily shared. 

Value is perceived.

Memories of providing for family.

Enjoying celebrations through decades.

 

They were a part of who he was.

I enjoyed finding them for him.

Proud he chose to wear them

Loving him even more.

Brought enough 

for each Son to choose a few.

Never thinking they'd try to

split all between them.

Guess neither thought

their Sister would cherish.

Caught in the web

of loss this was a small "gain".

Thankfully one held back

taking all or she and I would

have none to touch.

Remembering, 

recalling,

our amazing life

shared 

with family & friends.

Now pictures, papers

Cards and memories.

Made to enjoy and recall.

Focusing on our lives together.

Be grateful. 

Cherish the moments.

Recognize the end

comes too soon.

Measure not by time.

Hold close the moments.

When they pass 

Only the memories remain.

Parents Do The Best We Can

Darkness falls

When light fails

So far in

No longer a sin?

Rampant today

Fixed, not remedy.

What do you do when

your son or daughter 

"turns" on you? 

They mis-remember 

or choose to "twist" truth?

Rewriting their lives 

and those of other 

family members.

 

To conform to what 

they believe "now".

You honor their request 

even when it hurts.

When the mandate is 

"NO CONTACT"

The choice is not yours.

Five years and counting. 

A new grandchild arrives; 

no announcement; no contact.

Wait! Intercession. 

Wife of other son 

asks "them" 

to come to her home 

while you're visiting. 

It's a long trip, 

you're only able to make it 

once a year. 

Concerned about meeting 

the youngest 

who was born after 

the "dictate" of their father 

regarding "no contact".

Concerned about 

the younger two 

and the older two -- 

they've been "raised"

with prejudice and with lies.

Allmost speechless 

when the time arrives.

They walk through the door, 

Mother puts them in a line

She makes sure they move along

A quick hug and it's "Next!" in line.

 

Mother parades them through

Quickly moving one after another.   

                 

The day will come. They'll see the light.

Darkness can envelope

Moving away as children develop.

You're just holding on,

Holding back years of tears.

Recalling abuse,

Mental, emotional & physical.

 

Concerned about 

being "watched", "

measured" 

and "evaluated" 

not just by "him", 

also by "her".

All you can say 

to each grandchild is 

"Any time", "Any time".

You wanted to talk 

with each one

but fear if you do 

they'll be removed.

You hold back tears, 

joy and sorrow, 

simply say "Any time" 

Some day will be tomorrow.

 

Whenever they're able, 

they can connect with you.

Once they leave, on their own.

You understand. 

None are "of an age" 

when they're not dependent 

on their parents. 

They don't understand 

this isn't the first time 

their father and mother

"removed" connectivity.

Always screaming how

"He" and "She" were abused

when he was the abuser

to three adult family members

and a very young sister.

It isn't me. 

It wasn't his father 

or his grandmother 

or his sister. 

We were his

"family of the past".

A high price to pay.

He'll see clearly some day.

He has a "master" to serve.

One who never will swerve.

He doesn't NEED OR WANT 

connectivity.....with reality....

with reminders...with truth. 

And so he strikes out  

with the only weapon 

he believes 

will do the most harm, 

be the most hurtful, 

as others don't seem to work.

Negating everything I've ever done.

Verbally abusing each and everyone.

Except of course for where 

Real responsibility sits in a chair.

When you learn of this 

"plan" for "re-meeting", 

you feel sick to your stomach 

worrying about how it will affect 

"the children" 

after so long a time 

without "talking with" 

their Nana and their Aunt.

How does your son

who mandated and enforced

this "no contact" ruling 

from his position of power

to control the minor children 

approach this meeting?

No way to know. 

Only to experience. 

To see how he and his wife 

"handle" the "meeting".

The hardest challenge 

was the "first" meeting 

of the youngest, 

now almost five, 

being told by his mother, 

"I want you to meet someone. 

This is your Grandmother."

What did his little mind think; 

how will he remember this meeting...

will he remember...

it's been many months 

and, of course, no other contact.

What brought on this "separation".... 

it started a few months after 

my husband, son's father's death.

I failed to exactly know

how many people would attend

A luncheon to honor

My husband, his Dad.

The other times it was striking out 

at all the adults in the household: 

his father, myself and his grandmother.

The son, of course, points a finger

only at me now 

because I'm the only 

one still living of the three adults.

Writing about these family challenges 

is draining and brings up more 

than I can cope with in one sharing session.

It's a dark story. 

It's a sad tale of how a family 

that was so close for so long, 

started and continues a journey 

where deception, 

abuse & control are prominent.

There's so much I don't understand

How people can put on a "face" 

to the world while being 

so very different in who they are 

and how they treat others.

Enough for now. 

I will not bow down 

To evil in any form.

I will take my life's journey 

where it should go 

rather than where 

it's been directed 

by other forces.             

Spoiler In The Deck

Parents are  given one chance, 

one lifetime, to do "our job". 

Raising those helpless, 

amazing infants 

who arrive in our lives.

Over whom we have 

little to less control 

as the years pass.

I really thought, 

given the same parents, 

lifestyle, advantages,

the "mold" would shape 

each offspring similarly.

People are individuals. 

What they experience, 

how they interpret life, 

decisions they make -- 

are variables.

We tried to "equalize" 

to ensure no child was 

"left behind".

One always pushed the 

"envelope of life"

Believing they were 

Always in control.

There were no "perks" 

for one over another.

Each was encouraged 

in their unique or similar 

interests and abilities.

Then they were "grown"; 

developed with support

into the ongoing 

process of each life step.

But how, some parents ask, 

can one be so "different" 

towards them from the"others". 

How can they twist truth 

about daily life -- 

as "they" experienced it?

Enter other influencers. 

Especially those 

with ability & capacity 

in bed and out.

 

A lifelong "soul mate"

with non-removable straps.

A manipulator

Never changes

It adapts, adopts,

Survives using deceit.

I'm happy, they say.

I love being used.

It helps me provide.

What I'm told to do.

Animals know their own smell

They bury it well.

Then covers what it produces

As the smell repels.

The closer you are 

The less you want to know.

Not wanting to be caught

In the growing web of 

Manipulation & Control.

Found! Other LBD Writers

Time Travel Entry 

written Aril 29, 2013

published August, 2025

Deep in the time 

of living with LBD

I wrote 

to try to understand

To continue 

going forward.

It's like finding a map 

or at least 

a table of contents 

to a complex textbook.

Have been talking 

with my daughter, 

sharing the 

many changes 

I've noticed 

in My Mom's/Grandma's 

abilities to communicate.

 

Words substituted 

with no relationship.

 

Loss of ability 

to find words,

make or write

complete sentences.

 

Moving from one idea 

to another 

as though 

they tie together 

but with no bearing 

on one another.

Talking, talking, talking. 

Laughing &  laughing,

or angry, angry, angry.

Never quite sure 

which emotion 

will surface 

or present itself.

Finding others in

the LBD community --

their writings help.

I believe 

there's a commonality

From man to woman, 

From State to State,

From Country to Country.

For us it's

complicated 

by visits from JH, 

the woman who 

befriended Mom. 

She works 

to cause

more confusion 

and to try 

to get Mom 

to do things 

and say things 

that will cause 

friction between us 

& problems for Mom.

Reading, reading reading.

  

No one. 

Not a single person 

mentions the complex 

and ever changing 

"soap opera" 

of the delusions,

halucinations 

their loved ones relate.

There are strange things:

seeing a zebra on the lawn, 

mistaking a spouse (female) 

for a secretary of many years, 

remembering her as pregnant 

(a laugh the spouse said 

she'd been dieting 

& lost thirty pounds).

Perhaps someone visiting 

mentioned the weight loss 

and the LBD husband 

rearranged the information 

recollecting weight loss 

after pregnancy.

This stimulated 

recalling the memory 

of the pregnant secretary -- 

mixing all together.

We found Mom's delusions 

have some source

in a "real world" experience.

The loss of accurate language

can make LBD people 

unable to communicate 

a simple thought accurately.

LBD is like a mixer 

with random ingredients 

added in and never knowing 

what the end results will be.

 

There are mental "drains" 

where some fall through. 

Other parts 

never get mixed in, 

some stay in large clumps,

others fall away.

This disease, 

if you aren't suffering 

from it as the person 

or the caregiver, 

can be fascinating. 

It can also 

be frightening

when you witness 

the temperment

of the person 

go from friendly

to furious 

and back again 

in what can be 

split seconds.

Why aren't we 

associating 

other 

"mental illnesses" 

with LBD 

and using research 

in those areas -- 

like schizoprehenia 

or brain damage? 

Linking together 

these areas of study 

might provide clues 

to discovering 

cures & ways to manage.

Talk about Dementia.

Read about LBD. 

Spread the word.

Work towards a better future 

for our aging population:

Volunteer at a Senior Center.

Advocate with State Legislatures.

Follow writers who dig deep.

Looking to share. 

Showing they care.

When Will They Ever Learn?

In America, parents "Push".                                                                                               Kids "Pull" life like it's Taffy.                                                                                               

Both believing their "Recipe" is best.                                                           Focusing on leaving "The Nest".

The more distance, even in AI times,                                                                               The more possibilities for personal harm.

Even when you're close and share,                                                                             There are secrets placed here and there.

We're taught self sufficiency.                                                                                           To know how to survive many inequities.

The human heart, though, wants to believe                                                                     That man or woman would NEVER deceive.

Flying far from the nest                                                                                                     They believe they'll rise from the rest.

Life builds, life breaks.                                                                                                  Life gives, life takes. 

So set on the journey.                                                                                               No ties bind so tight.

They believe they rise faster                                                                                           When "you" are not in sight.                      

Once takers, now makers,                                                                                             Soon creators becoming fakers.

They learn to expound                                                                                                     on what they do "right".                                                                 

Overlooking the vast extent                                                                                             of dark, unfriendly night.

Parents are set aside.                                                                                                         Influencers become their guide.

The "Pot of Gold" just out of sight                                                             Focus away from "the light".

Like Carnival Barkers of ages past.                                                                               They tempt and cajole until the very last.                                                                                                                                                         

Retrofiting, Retraining, Replacing

Fingers placed, keyboard spaced.                                                                                Humans needed, easily replaced.

Family and friends redefined.                                                                                             New relationships formed and signed.

We encourage "play".                                                                                                       "Trained" along the way.

Fulfill your wants.                                                                                                             Your needs can wait.

Sounds of praise                                                                                                                 Cradle to grave.  

We accept, we believe.                                                                                                       An unknown "expert" often deceives.

We're told to accept,                                                                                                           To believe what we're told.                                                                                             Especially applied to those getting Old.

Youth is worshiped. Age is FUN.                                                                                   We shortly bask in the Rising Sun.

The Pot of Gold, Rainbow and all,                                                                                   We feel so big and look so small.

We watch a loved one disappear                                                                             Seeing a stranger we sometimes fear

The person we love comes and goes.                                                            Where and when we never know.  

Family Ties Undone

Learn from my wanting, 

needing to trust.

A wolf in sheep's clothing

Can tear life apart. 

We lived together 

as a MultiGen Family 

for almost forty years.

Husband would pass 

January 2011.

Mom would pass January 2014

The year of her 100th Birthday.

I felt so lost.

Home from 100 days in Hospital 

Our Family Room became 

my husband's  bedroom.

A Visiting Nurse came twice.

Then it was up to me.

it's all about "deep pockets"

In our land of the brave

Home of the Free.

At first he could walk a little.

Soon he would be bedridden.

No Medical Insurance.

To cover major care.

Social Security?

Medicare?

Minimal coverage.

Savings, Assets?

One hundred hospital days

Reduces your assets and capabilities.

We'd had a small business.

Paid our own Insurance.

Think twice before you leave

That "cushy job" with benefits.

In today's world "perks"

Are astronomically priced.

Today's young believe

Life will provide.

They see dollar signs

Believing they'll be "rich".

The smart ones rise.

The hard workers sink.

It's not what you do

It's what you "think".

We tried. 

We rose. 

We survived.

Then we learned.

Those benefits

Are what working's

All about.

Self service is great

Self employment has holes.

Mourning Lets In The Light

Time can be so short or very long.                                                                              These past years moved ever so slowly.

When I stand and look backwards, 

they actually passed very quickly.

When I looked forward,

it seemed an endless chasm appeared. 

It truly seems like yesterday  

we took that walk 

down the church aisle 

to get married . . . 

Then I walked alongside

our daughter and behind

your coffin.

Our sons

Your Friends

carried you,

honoring your life, 

the man you were,

the memory you continue to be.

I forgot some things 

for your funeral

but I wasn't really expecting 

there to be one. 

You were getting better.

You were coming home. . . 

in a few days.

. 

Then it happened. 

The change. 

The turn around. 

The swift,

slow movement 

towards our separation.

Your never coming home, 

never returning here 

to be with me again.

No!

I don't need 

to "let go".

No! 

I do not need 

to give away, 

throw away 

EVERYTHING 

about you.

 

It's not a 

constant reminder .

It will always be 

a part of  MY life. 

As time moves forward, 

I take a little here, a little there

to shelters and other places,

 

I think some man will benefit 

from having "new" clothes 

even if there are 

some small signs

of wear and use.

We've always given to others.

It was a part of our life.

Part of who we were 

separately and together. 
This time would be no different. 

If there remains any visible signs

of everyday life as it used to be, 

what difference is that from 

living with family heirlooms 

generation to generation?

It is my life.

Was our life. 

Hurts no one.

Helps me.

And that has become 

a part of my mourning, 

as individual as I am, 

always have been. 

A long term widow?  

A long term individual, wife, 

mother and daughter.

(written 06/17/15 as one of many remembrances held close now shared) 

Connecting Life Dots

How long will my journey be? 

Will I start where I'm going                                                                                             forgetting where I've been?                

What, which, when, how                                                                                                   will I remain being able?                                                                  

Lives lived and living                                                                                                       can vary and change.                     

How we measure, apply and use                                                                               often are within our grasp.  

Times & places we did not see                                                                                   for what they were.                                                   

My life. Theirs. Ours.                                                                                                       For what time we do not know.  

The privilege I have and may lose                                                                               is to determine my paths.

Trust, belief, caring,                                                                                                       sharing times made to recall.                                               

Will this also be lost as we age;                                                                                     is it always the way?

Looking for answers,                                                                                                         finding riddles instead.

Memory holes replace clutter.                                                                                       Why THIS journey, not another? 

How do we end . . .                                                                                                       when we made no choice to begin?

How much can we handle,                                                                                               manage and accept?

Do Not Blow Out Candles.                                                                                         Light Them Instead. 

Search for your tomorrow                                                                                                   in each day that remains.

Become, grow and give to others.                                                                                   Be aware they watch & wait.

Your journey renews                                                                                                 each day you are given.