Mercy, compassion and grace

one of my first blog friends is Tenous at Best. her mom called her and told her it is time for the hospice. send them all love and hugs. she says she doesnt deal with this stuff well and worries about herself falling apart when the time comes (to fall apart and yet be stoic). i know, i understand. also, please stop by Barbz and send her some love and support. she's been a diligent advocate for her son and his care after a brain cancer has left him in permanent need of care, and now, sadly she has been diagnosed with an untreatable illness.

i also want to thank everyone here who has left me comments and who read and follow the story with my daughter in recent weeks. thanks to Noe Noe Girl and to Bore Patch for sending out some requests to their readers to keep my daughter in their thoughts. i am touched by the gesture, thank you.

Addendum:
I would also like to thank Furious Season's author, Philip Dawdy for supporting my daughter via linking to a 'round up news' post.
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somehow, i feel this world is not as big as it seems at times, when we as strangers send out love and good thoughts to someone from around the world, there must be some part of the Universe listening, and lifting up our weary souls as a result, who seek joy and freedom from pain and suffering.
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in the psych hospital yesterday

i approached the weekend receptionist and asked him if they collect items for the patients for christmas gifts who are there on christmas day. remember no other visitors usually cross my path in that lobby and there weren't any there then either, just building maintenance crew, not a holiday decoration, or bouquet of flowers set out. this is not a place where anyone receives comfort, not even a visitor, they could use a chapel, anything, but, you see these places are not medical hospitals, so they don't have those things. the refuge of minds filled with angst, lonely and pacing on the floor above where i stand, a wall of sort between 2 worlds.

he and 2 other men talked and discussed if they have a box to collect toys etc around somewhere, and i interrupted them and said, "no, i mean for the patients that will be here on christmas day".

silence....then "oh you mean the patients?" (YES)

it never occurred to them that i meant the people upstairs. i told/asked them to get a box in the lobby and request socks or magazines, things that are generic and allowed on the unit.
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thanksgiving day

i was with my daughter there for 2 hours, brought her eggnog and homemade food and sat at a table with her; there were no other visitors, and no special meal.

it was the usual brown bag lunch with a sandwich and a carton of milk---i was so shocked there was no acknowledgement of the patients on such a day.

i wonder how christmas day there will be.
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it's starting to crystallize, isn't it? the image portrayed here, of the tiled hallways, the tv's on for something to do, and the pacing of the patients to pass time...the lack of reading materials, the lack of dignity, the lack of feeling.

these people are you and me, human beings deserving of much more than they receive, after all, if they are the most vulnerable members of society, why are they treated in a way that makes them appear as throw aways?


these are the people, that deserve so much more than this.

how my daughter ended up this way often has my mind spinning, because it is the adult psychiatric system that gripped its talons into her and ruined her life.

all i can do, is try and remedy what happened, and then this summer after having such wonderful days it all changed with a blink of an eye, out of my control.

i will go again today and hope to get upstairs to hug her and give her cookies.


God, mercy, compassion and grace.