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|Tuesday, May 5th, 2015|
My youngest brother called me back this morning and he spoke of Mom. He gets it, I hate the financial with her. I fall apart inside. It takes me back to chronic worry about money-----hers. It paralyzed me in my 20's and it feels like it could again.
So my brother says, "she has money"
With his handing the money I can easily handle the care part so she can stay independent. I live in an amazing town of Shullsburg when I am not in Madison. They have really come through.
Anyway I updated some siblings on some positive news regarding her and my brother, Tom, wrote "Good info. Good Job! Thanks."
I wrote back, I love it when you compliment me. Notice his underuse of the exclamation point. From him that is a big deal.
For years, I sent him my poetry. Imagine having a brother to whom you can send your poetry. And on the poem I wrote for his son who turned one (18 years ago) I said, 'I am a poet."
For the first time I said it.
Then I saw Tom and he said, "That was a sophisticated poem you wrote."
I said, "Thanks."
He said, 'I took it to school to show one of the English teachers and she cried."
I am free.
Having my youngest brother handle the worst part of it for me makes me free.
Hey, I read Mom the headlines of the Wisconsin State Journal, "FBI followed Texas Gunman for years."
Then, I said, "They've followed me, too."
We started laughing !
Yeah, they have used the Patriot ACT and it all started when I consciously displaced their stalking me at the Unemployment job by yelling at Ken Starr on the tv that's when they said I was a national threat.
hahaha no, I just annoy controlling people because i know my mind but I love ideas from other people and I am supportive.
Dear Brenda Konkel if your friends are telling you anything about their stalking me they are doing it to see if you are the one telling me when the FBI has told me since 1997.
Quite a game !
I don't know you. I like your work. It's that simple.
|Sunday, May 3rd, 2015|
| I think I am smothering my mother with concern !
I arrived home to find a dry mouth Mom. I said, 'You have not eaten or drunk anything" She finds it hard to move.
I want her to go to the hospital.
So I told siblings and my brother, Tom, who is one of the smartest people I know, truly, asked, 'Do you think they would take her?"
He asked, "Can't you make a chicken broth or a facsimile?"
except I thought he wrote "fake smile" or a fake smile so I reread it.
and he continued "to entice her"
She ate and she drank and I made her coffee, her humor is amazing in the midst of this pain.
My cousin from Canada wrote about going to see our mutual Aunt in Montreal (the one who taught at McGill) and Felice called from Aunt Anne's room and Felice wrote:
Hey Cousins! I called Aunt Ethel while I was visiting with Aunt Annie. They had a good chat. Wow, we laughed so much. Aunty Ethel is a riot. Grand Dames indeed. Love you all! xo
OMG we laughed so hard. I told your Mom to take her show on the road. She is so quick witted. My son Noah was with us and he was just in tears. "
My Aunt Anne speaks of my mother like this: "She drives a thousand miles to see you and she simply says, 'hi.'"
My Aunt Mary was Felice's mother and Aunt Mary smuggled girls out of Greece with the help of Queen Isabella because their brothers and/or fathers were going to stone them.
My Aunt Mary went to Greenland to be with the Inuit and then she came back and she fell ill with cancer.
She believed it was the lack of fresh vegetables in Greenland that did it.
|Saturday, May 2nd, 2015|
A Jewish family endured a fire in New York recently and 7 of the 8 kids were killed in the fire and the father said that he asks his kids for their forgiveness adn the only way to handle something like this is acceptance.
I was moved by all of it.
I have found acceptance to be a way to peace when there is nothing else you can do.
Like I accept that this is not going ot end. I notice that you now have the poem I wrote on Soglin come up when I sign in. Oh, he presented himself well when he slept in the Capital like a homeless person. I believed he would reach redemption on his return to mayor to be able to do good and to be a good human being.
When his friend the great patriarch Moses attacked me and could not take a stand but makes a practice of attacking anyone else who at least has the courage to take a stand I thought well it's time we let all of you stew in your juices to know what I know.
I don't see hope for Soglin's character development any more like I did when he presented himself as a bum leading the parade of humanity.
The poem has truth and now given his actions it has been re appropriated as a memory of what he could have been.
I told my mother how the homeless are being treated and she shot back, "What do they want to do, shoot them?"
I accept that Soglin is stuck in his development.
I accepted that what happened with my mother was now out of my hands and I put up my right hand in prayer in my car on Hwy 151 and I prayed to Jesus, "Please help my mother and brother."
The next thing I know my brother simply wants her to heal in a facility and then come back home.
She told him, "I want to die in this house." (Her stating what she wanted was empowerment on her part. She was like me, we will stick up for others but disregard what we want, and she said it ! )
He heard. But she does need healing time.
And my wonderful nephew, Andy, whom she loves is taking her to her appointment on Friday so I can tend to a family who on the day she fell did not receive great services from me. I told the woman and said, keep your money. She didnt want to do so. I insisted.
I get to be around wonderful educated people. I get to try to take stress out of their lives.
and now my brother is taking stress out of my life.
I asked a dear friend if she would stop in to see Mom on certain days and she will be paid and she said yes. and this friend told me "Your mother is too independent to go to a nursing home. I worked in one for years and it would kill her spirit. I've seen it happen."
She is loved. Her spirit is wonderful.
She makes me laugh. She needs a serotonin increase because what was coming off as old age was depression related.
I know the signs and I don't believe in medication as an answer but I know our genes and I know it's necessary at times.
My brother and I are closer than ever. I love him. He makes me laugh. He's home to me.
He told me on the phone after their meeting, "I told her, terri is going to be fine we aren't going to leave her out there stranded we will be there for her."
He knows me. First of all he comes off as a conservative type A and you would never nkow that he can read people; oh he can read people.
So he knows when I just need quiet time and time to be alone.
He knows I love to have fun and laugh.
He knows celebrity type people and yet he says working class people's names with the same respect as he does the famous people.
I have so much respect for him.
An African American kid rode his bike to their house in Mlwaukee ten plus years ago and stole jewelry and things and my brother said, "They don't have any money for things......"
he's not soft but he's kind. it's just a beautiful mixture.
He's home to me.
|Friday, May 1st, 2015|
|Going to the doctor
My eye is so swollen that I am going to urgent care.
Mom's spirit is so good lately. The med helped with her mood and I told her that she had become so down that it would take me a week to recover.
Tonight we were laughing.
I love her.
We have always had discussions.
Today in the doctor's office she quoted Milton's poetry to me.
She constantly comes up with lines that she has never told me before.
I consider it a gift to my life.
That doctor was the worst mistake I made for her life. I should have gone to this male D.O. not this one.
So now I am powerless to help her.
I would sooner see her die from a fall in her home than to ve institutionalized. That's how I feel.
What are we trying to do? hold on to more life? Why?
|My dad asked, that we keep her traveling and I tried
I have a swollen eye. It started last week when I was crying about Mom and it has gotten bad again.
I am not over eating and I go up on the scale; I am inflamed; and I know it's a result of caring about Mom.
I suggested to a sibling that we build on a bathroom and he said, "No, she needs to go to a nursing home."
I think of her spirit. Tonight we laughed about her spirit.
She told me one time, "You get that toughness from the French; you don't get from the Irish."
The toughness is about justice issues.
Monica said at Clarke, "Terri, you have an incredible sense of justice."
I just feel sad for her. That's all.
So I cry. And my eye swells up.
This happens. One time I was supposed to drive her to an appointment ten years ago because she was having eye surgery. And I ended up with a sore knee and she had to dirve with me in the passenger seat. And we stayed at the hotel and she had to take the cot. These are the kinds of things we laugh about.
She drove me into Madison on a run away from harassment in Milwaukee and she said as we faced the Capitol and she drove the U'Haul Truck, "Now, you will be able to be yourself here, people might not be religious here but they are deeply spiritual."
When I was at Marquette, a professor of the department said, "There are many who think well of you in this, Teresa."
Tonight she said, "You can sing at my funeral."
I said, 'I don't want to sing at your funeral."
She asked, "Why?"
I said, "Because I will cry."
She said, "Okay, I'll sing at yours" and she started making these annoying sounds and I said, "That sounds like a better deal."
I worry about her spirit. I don't want it broken.
|My mom thinks nurses are nice
Mom keeps saying "that nurse" I said, "Mom, she wasn't a nurse; she was a doctor and I am not pleased with her. She didn't even have you stand up to assess your pain and X said that the doctor increased her mom's pain killer."
Mom said, 'Oh well, today was her first day."
I said, "No it wasn't."
Mom said, "She's nice."
Yes, she is nice.
I said after I told her what X of Shullsburg told me, "I wrote about it because I am worried."
She said< "That's okay."
I went upstairs and I found her at the top of my steps. I asked, "What are you doing there?"
She said, "I sat down and scooted over here to get up."
I said, 'You fell."
She said, 'I did not. It's easier to scoot over here then to walk over here"
She is mightier than ever. Her spirit was what I was worried about but fighting to stay independent is working.
I am the one who taught her to scoot over to the basement steps to get up because I can't lift her.
I love her.
A Shullsburg native wrote that maybe Mom's pain medicine could be changed to give her relief.
This doctor didn't even renew it.
She said, "Older people process meds differently?"
Oh really? Gee, are we hoping she lives to be a 120. What about quality of life ?
|Once Upon a Time there was such a nice doctor
I have mentioned that I don't necessarily trust "nice". It doesn't necessarily make me trust someone.
Today I took my mother to a new primary physician and the physician was so nice. The receptionist told me when I called to make an appt. "She's so nice."
Screw nice. She's consumed with her own image of niceness that she did not help my mom.
At issue is that Mom was rolled in there by me in a wheel chair. She can't walk without screaming. Did the nice doctor have mom stand up so she could hear and assess the pain, no.
I asked, "Can she be put in rehab?"
The nice doctor said, "It would have to be a nursing home."
Do you think the nice doctor would say, they can do rehab in the nursing home.
The nice doctor said that it will take weeks or months to heal the knees.
My mother said that she would not go to a nursing home.
I left the appointment leaving my mom there with Dr. Nice and I said, "I don't know how you are going to be able to climb the steps to the bathroom."
The nice doctor did not even up the meds that increase serotonin.
The only thing they did was have a bubble gum chewing medical assistant make sure that mom is signed up for a shingles shot.
I left the appointment to go call my younger brother who answered and he is very busy. I said, it's not going well.
There was a time when I pulled my mother back to life a few years back. I brought in healthy foods for her and did other things. This is beyond my capabilities.
I asked, "Can she go into physical rehab?"
The nice doctor said, 'It would have to be a nursing home."
And the nice doctor ordered x rays and we will hear the results on Wednesday and mom goes back next Friday to see the nice doctor.
I explained that Mom ate so much bread before she was put on a pain killer after falling last week so I knew Mom was looking for serotonin relief. I said that the pain killer lifted her mood.
The nice doctor said that the med Mom was on raises serotonin levels and she said the pain killer can make one unsteady on their feet.
Lady she fell twice in two days before she was put on the pain killer, it's why she was put on it; she fell and had stiches which you saw but did not question as to when they were coming out.
Did you ever think about taking a NICE xray to see if she had a mini stroke or something?
Tonight the nice doctor will go home and look in the mirror and say, "Boy I am nice and that is all that matters"
My mother just collapsed on the couch and can not move. She screams in pain and she had to sit on a chair before she was able to collapse on the couch.
I have been her advocate. I have cleaned up things that I don't speak of to the family or anyone and I know her. I think that nice doctor sucks so nicely.
|Preparing the way
A weeping leaves my body when I think of Mom. My brother called me outside of Verona. He knows I take her to the dr. today for an assessment.
He said that he wanted me to know that I will not be out there in the world alone that I have them.
I said, "I am strong."
He said, 'I know you are strong."
Part of it is the leaving of Shullsburg. I love the town with my whole heart. I have always loved this town.
Mat Gleason told me at Clarke that he road to Milwaukee via Hwy 11 with the Tyson's Jesuit uncle and he said to them, "Oh, Shullsburg, Terri Doyle is from there."
He said it because I spoke of the town at College.
My Milwaukee friend listened to me talk about the town and he said, "What were you a bunch of Yeats?"
The number of writers out of this town would indicate that is the case.
I prayed on the way home, 'Jesus, help me."
And I received an idea. I will tell Mom that the apartment in Dubuque is temporary to heal and that she can come back here when the lease is up and she is healthy. She probably won't want to come back.
One time she and I were riding across the Julienne Dubuque Bridge and I said, "I love Dubuque."
She sighed with passion, "Oh, I love Dubuque, too.'
It's her home.
|Thursday, April 30th, 2015|
For my mother who schooled me with discussions
I fear you will be put in a box
with another box as your bedroom.
You will have one window where no
tree bends or lifts its arms to
God for all of our fears. All
your life you stood tall in the
battles of men. You stood to
glare the white male god in the
face in 1971 as he folded his
arms to refuse to speak when an
non aborted baby of an unwed
mother cried in the summer heat.
You told me, "Stay here." I sat
in the pew, the stained glass
windows with Mary, the Mother of
God, cracked open; you, Her
daughter, roared the engine of
your red Maverick, the car your
oldest son drove to the Jesuit
boarding school to bring home
friends who discussed ideas with
your mind. The engine stopped,
so did the baby's cry and you
walked back into the Church to
stand by my pew. I looked up as
a second grader to see you stand
and give God's representative a
stare. I wish I could bring back
your Maverick and you could roar
its engine one more time, to keep
you out of the box within a box
so you can leave this earth with
the birds and trees in your park.
|Woman tells Dylan "I am the song"
Dylan posted a photo with "Anna Lee" and I asked Patrick, "Who is Anna Lee? I know, I know, I don't know."
So Patrick wrote to tell me who she was. She was the childhood friend of Levon Helms (Will Bryant told me who Levon Helms was and about the Barn where his uncle plays the bass as a member of THE BAND and his uncle played with Levon Helmes) Will is a sweety.
Patrick told me who she is and what her role was in relation to Levon Helms (Oh, I do like THE BANDS song, "Weight" Dylan and his Band sing and play it. Patrick wrote me: terr, Anna Lee was a childhoold friend of Levon's and an iconic figure in the lyrics of the band, specificially The Weight. Take a load off, Fanny
Take a load for free
Take a load off, Fanny
And (and) (and) you put the load right on me
(You put the load right on me) "
Then, Patrick continued:
" this is one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard. I love you terr. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJMMUZOq3OU
Then, Patrick wrote: when dylan was introduced to her by the former manager of the band dylan said, "anna lee, like the song." she replied, "I am the song."
|Tired in many ways
I have fatigue. Last night I woke up every 2 hours with major leg cramps. I cleaned for a total of 7 hours yesterday. And something leaves my body. My sister told me in August that there is a certain calcium to take and I can't find the note she wrote on line.
I googled "cause of leg cramps" and links came up that said "calcium deficiency" is the cause. I guess the muscles need calcium as well. And interestingly I wanted milk this morning and I never drink milk alone.
Then, I take my mom to the doctor tomorrow. I want her meds changed and also rehab. Others want her in an apartment in Dubuque. She falls where it is flat. That's where she falls and if she can prevent the fall through physical rehab that would be beneficial.
She loves her back yard. I believe God sent her angry birds. It's the first year they have every tried to fly through her window pain. It's good for her.
Others don't know that she talks to be about the squirrels and the birds out there.
And she likes to have something to complain about so to take all the complaints away and fix every thing for her would be an act of disempowerment.
I will wait and see.
|Tuesday, April 28th, 2015|
|Here's the garbage
What a beautiful day.
I can say that my cousin, the male Terry Doyle, of Shullsburg is at the Supreme Courty rally for marriage equality.
I drove to see my mom. I cry at times when I am alone, but I don't cry in front of her.
A woman was here today to clean and mom really likes her and I said to mom, "I think we should have someone come in every day."
She didn't disagree.
And then, my Dad's cousin who is Joe Doyle (writer for Notre Dame Sports) arrived with the priest to offer Mom communion. The priest seems nice and Mom likes him so that's important.
And then I came upstairs to tell her what I say to J.B. who stalks me; I say it in the privacy of my home. And she said, "Oh, Terri, I just had communion."
Yeah, I said, "Well, I just say I know your male part doesn't work but you should wear a bra."
He's transgendering which I think is great ! I am all for it.
I think it's going to be okay no matter what happens. I have met great people in what I do during the week. I like making people's lives easier and everyone including their children is interesting.
So here we are !
In spite of it all, their stalking me, I love my life. I am free.
And this is freedom when you are being stalked in the name of homophobia and you find peace and happiness and interesting people for whom to offer help to ease their lives.
I get to write.
I think we can help Mom's quality of life get better. I wrote her doctor with observations and I just hope it all gets better.
I said to my mom knowing she loves to talk about garbage, really the actual garbage.
She has been re purposing things since I was a child.
I said, 'Oh, I found the course description that the guy below teaches." I knew he taught a course on garbage because of what I read he wrote in the Wisconsin State Journal.
I said, "His class asks questions like, 'do we need all of this packaging?"
And she said, "I wondered that, too."
I said, 'It's too bad you can't know him, you two could talk garbage."
He's just so beautiful. I read the course description and he wrote: "Six billion of us on this planet and we all produce waste though not equaly"
(Can I add that from my spying on him from my window, he hardly has any garbage and he takes compost out to the compost site where we live)
THEN LOOK AT HOW HE WRITES; THIS IS WHY THINKING/FEELING WOMEN LIKE HIM; HE IS TRADITIONALLY MASCULINE AND YET HE USES THE PRONOUN "WE" AS IF HE IS NOT THE PATRIARCH IN THE CLASS BUT SOMEONE ON A JOURNEY WITH OTHERS IN THE CLASS
This course strives to make visible the by-products of our daily lives, helping us see their travels once we throw them out. Are there alternatives to non-thinking consumption? Is the landfill really the best home for plastic bags? Do we really need all this packaging? What will our trash tell future researchers? As researchers and citizens, we will attempt to answer these questions through shared experiences, reading, and individual exploration. Prerequisites: COR 1 or equivalent; open to second or third year students or sophomore and above transfers.
|Monday, April 27th, 2015|
My brother is a God send to my life right now in supporting the best options for Mom.
I don't have to feel alone in it.
He said, "You must have cried."
He meant when I told Cath about the stress of it all. Well we ended up laughing and I said, I love my mom.
Cath said, 'I know you do."
I looked up things that may be of use, but all I know is that this is a retest for me.
During the Reagan years the agriculture climate was changing he was supporting huge dairy farms and huge farms in California.
Hear of the drought that hit California, well this professor whose child I watch told me that part of the problem is that the big Almond farms are taking the water from up north and it's drying up the state's low water level as it is. This professor has Princeton and Stanford Degrees.
Reagan pushed the small farmer into destruction.
The result was that my mother had to struggle because my dad sold feed to farmers.
And so I basically ran to Marquette to get away from problems and if I hadn't done that I never would have met that Novice Master.
So this is a test to see how I handle life this time.
This time I am medicated.
This time I have resources to assure myself I can take care of myself and offer support.
This time my brother calls and he's up front and it just has helped me so much because I end up laughing.
He always can make me laugh just by how he tells a story with all seriousness.
He asked, "Did you tell Mom that I was going to have a heart attack?"
I said, "No, I said that I think Marc Marotta died because of stress and I didn't want you to be stressed?"
He said, "Well today she said, 'Terri, said that you are going to have a heart attack."
In fact at the time of Marotta's death I scoped photos and this physically fit man got unfit, I think he was doing too much and being unfit for the first time in your life can stress the body more than for someone who has been unfit.
So I told my brother that week of the death, avoid stress, I think Marc Marotta died from it...
My brother shot back, "I don't get stressed I stress out other people."
My doctor told me when I went to see him, "I have seen that university destroy professionals lives."
And I think that's why he hit his fist on the desk.
They dislike my mother because she out witted them.
They actually don't like thinking women. Oh, they give the impression as long as the women smile.
Leahy was behind the Roach destruction then he went to Boston College to be president and that year it came out that a student was suing Mary Daly (the feminist theologian) for having an all girls class. He wanted in.
Soon she was gone from Boston College.
I figured Leahy did what he did to Roach, he put a student on the professor to get rid of who thought differently.
The women around Jesuits aren't free thinkers. You can't be.
Thank God, I love the arts.
That was the struggle.
Ken said it best, "Teresa, he's not interested in who you are, he's interested in shaping who you think he should be."
I went into Subway to get a veggie sub with mustard this morning. I wasn't focused and I said, "I am sorry...." I told her that living arrangements for my mom were probably going to change.
Then, I cried. Then, I said, "I am sorry."
She is kind and I tipped her what was left of the ten. She didn't want to take it and I said, "No, take it, I can't believe I cried to you."
I had just talked to my brother.
I am afraid to bring her here because the last time she fell out of bed twice and I had to call the ambulance twice.
I am sad for her.
She took on Marquette and got me out with a degree.
The administration wanted to get me out without a degree.
So I called a meeting with the Dean, the chair and my advisor. My advisor, Dr. Kipfmueller, was saying things about me to the department that were not true.
I said to him in the meeting, 'Your son is an attorney for this university and it is a conflict of interest."
His son was DiUlio's in house lawyer.
This was before internet and he went white as a ghost.
I said, "I don't want you as my advisor."
I got a new advisor.
So they had Kipfmueller grade my comprehensive and he flunked me.
So then I took it again and someone else was going to grade it.
I turned over Father Richard Roach's letters to me that further documented the scandal and the day I turned them over to Larry Hopwood is the day that they told me in a class that I passed.
And Kipfmueller came out looking like a fool.
Jesuit priests who became priests to hide their homosexuality and to please their mothers came after me (Grummer and the great novice master).
My mother took them on and we won.
The real victory is that I like who I am. I do.
I went into my psych appointment after I earned my graduate degree and I said to Dr. Ulrich, "Well, I graduated."
He hit the desk with his fist in a loud boom.
I was shocked because I didn't even know he cared.
So they came after us.
This is the great novice master's legacy.
He showed me when I was 19 that he wanted to strangle his mother. He put his hands around her imaginary neck and squeezed. I was not old enough to know I should have run.
He lost because I like who I am.
I am free.
I am a poet.
I am sad for my mom; that's all.
I knew early on that I had to allow people to think I was crazy as I exposed this using the techniques on feminism that I read up on from Harry W. Schwartz' Bookstore.
You did; until the FBI would come to gag you and then the gagger talked to others and well it all got out and you bit bait.
And you can stalk me all you want because I am done saying what I see or not.
You are pathetic posers.
Kipfmueller reportedly called Larry Hopwood to have Hopwood flunk my internship and Hopwood told him, "I will judge for myself."
So when I got out with a degree they put the FBI on me and here we are.
Oh, they used to think Hopwoood told me.
They like to say they are trying to find out who told me when in fact they always give it away on purpose.
|Sunday, April 26th, 2015|
I am renewed. I am going to do this more often, come here to see my friend and just hang. We have spent Christmas Eve's in this hotel so I have memories here.
One memory happened when my 2nd oldest brother asked out youngest third grade nephew, 'Is Santa coming?"
The third grader said, "It's complicated."
His mother had told her two rambunctious boys that their behavior may make Santa not show.
We laughed at the story.
I have a memory of staying here with my oldest sister and her husband.
So I like it here and it's in Dubuque and I get to be with Cath who is a stable home for me.
|Your Stilled Life
For two history professors, one who recently died, the other lives
You lived in an art scene, two
women slid into the sounds of
your life. No, words you ate
your lunch with the forks and
knives clinking on your plates.
The percussion of your love rose
into a crescendo when the fork
over took sound's monopoly to
bring out your music of together.
I think of that lunch where you
said nothing, I cleaned your home
and you ate your meal, I heard
your connection in the words you
did not speak, for your forks and
knives turned your plates into
drums for the living: words paused.