Am I a Bad Person (41)

July 25th
Feeling cleansed feels good, just like stepping out of a hot shower all shampooed and conditioned. The piano left yesterday and I cleaned the living room of piles of stuff. I rearranged the couch, the chair, the treasured old radios and Victrolas, and laid down a new rug. I feel like I have my living room back again. I like the antiques we collected over the years. Norman and I have a distinct home personality and we enjoy being surrounded by things of the past, the warmth of aged wood. Am I sad that we gave back the piano, even if it took up so much space and we were out of a living room for six years? Of course. My emotional turmoil over the loss of our Steinway and the feelings Sam was facing had me connected to FB like an addict yesterday, sharing my thoughts with the world and getting much anticipated support through comments, likes and loves. I just hope the post and its friendly support helped Sam get to a place of acceptance over the change. 

It took the better part of the day to rearrange the living room and bring in Sam's many other pretty instruments as decor. All said and done, I sat on the couch in the evening, now placed in front of the windows and in full view of my paintings, and really enjoyed the feeling of being cleansed. We were blessed to own a beautiful, old Steinway and I was filled with emotions giving it back to Dot when Sam loved it so, but then again, I was pleased to have my living room back. Does that make me a bad person?

Sam's feelings went through me yesterday the same way I struggled with my feelings the day we put Hannah down. She was an old girl with almost 17 years of a joyous life. Translated into human years, she made it to 119. Who wants to live that long if you can't see much of anything, you have to take medications every day just to feel somewhat okay, and you are scared and shake all day long? We put Hannah down the day she had some kind of vertigo attack and we could not have her face yet another illness and a stay at a vet hospital. It was enough. We gave her almost 17 years of love and she gave us back 119 years of pure, unconditional love. Was I sad the day we gave Hannah to Dr. Farber to be put to sleep? Of course. She was my little girl. My pick of the litter. My soft body to cuddle with. But I also felt cleansed with her loss and that is a terrible admission to accept. Does that make me a bad person? She was not suffering anymore. Sam was not suffering anymore living in a home with an old dog with issues who needed so much extra care. My rugs were not peed on anymore. I have my painting of Hannah as my special connection to her and Murray is happy as a dog in shit to have us to himself. I choose to keep my memories of the good Hannah close to my heart and cleansed my mind of the sick and suffering Hannah. Am I a bad person?

Teaching at Ranney was a dream come true. My mom always said I should be a teacher, a goal she had even for herself but never achieved. I used to pray to the stars at night, to my mom, to guide me to make that dream come true. I was going to be a teacher, an art teacher. Ranney hired me mid-year when they were desperate to replace an art teacher who left them in the dust. I always said that if they had the time to do a real search, they would have chosen one with experience, a Master's degree, something more than me. But they were desperate and I was eager. So starting in February of 2003, I took on the role of Art Teacher at a ridiculously low salary. I was so happy to have that income and so proud of my new status. Putting in extra hours or computer related non-teaching responsibilities that came with the job was a pleasure to do. I felt this way for most of my 15 years and gave the school the best art teacher possible. The last few years became a stressful pull on my emotions. Still proud of my title, still excited by the work of my students, still happy to have the income that grew nicely over the years, I was also not feeling well physically or emotionally. A teacher in the upper school had a cancer fear and was taking off one year for treatment. I was (and this is the most awful admission ever) jealous. Not of cancer, God forbid, but that she had a reason to take time off from school. That same year, they honored me with a Cum Laude award. Didn't they see I did not deserve to be honored with thoughts like that? Slowly I was pulling away from my enthusiasm. I was still excited about projects and young artists. I was still growing my program every year. But the excitement was fading and stress took over. Norman and I need my salary. With Ranney, we were in a good place. We could pay the bills and put money away for savings. Once September comes, that stops. Am I a bad and inconsiderate member of my family? I finally admitted to the world this year that I need to stop teaching. The stress of the Ranney day and the Ranney commute was killing me. I was not the person I wanted to be for myself or for anyone else in my life.

With Hannah, I took a stand and made a decision to put her to sleep. With the piano, I took a stand and told Dot to go ahead and sell it if she no longer wanted to keep it. Perhaps she needed the money? It was her piano. With my career, it was time to change or I would no longer recognize me. I took a stand on many hard decisions this year. With each one, I ended up feeling cleansed, oddly relieved, and perhaps not so regretful in the end. Could I be a good person to so easily gloss over the feelings of my son, the kids at school, or the still beating heart of my Hannah? I'd like to not be a judge for once. What would my therapist daughter say?