One of the recurrent themes in the story of my mom’s life is the presence of empathy warriors – beautiful humans who stepped out of their comfort zones to provide support, despite the potential of triggering Sue’s wrath. In “Surviving Sue” I pay homage to the individuals who made a difference by extending loving kindnesses to Lisa and me when we needed them the most.
Do I wish some interventions occurred years before – enough to potentially forestall or prevent Sue’s continuing decline? Absolutely, but Sue’s ability to navigate and twist unseemly events into comedic or sympathy-inducing scenarios was a super skill. Sue knew how to shape shift details and like a magician, she could wave a wand to distract onlookers in a mesmerizing way. But as time passed, Sue became less functional, overall, and less adept at reconstituting facts for her benefit.
No matter how much or how little support I received from friends, neighbors – even strangers – I was grateful. As Sue began to spiral, no one wanted to be near her because she’d unleash an onslaught of anger if her “truths” were trampled on. Questioning or incredulous looks were not tolerated and would enrage Sue, whipping her into a destructive tirade. It was easier for most folks to simply step out of Sue’s orbit. Walk away slowly, without fanfare in order to avoid a blow-up.
In the unraveling of it all, Sue became increasingly fixated on her medications and Lisa’s, resulting in an episode of hospitalization for Sue. Attempted overdose? Confusion brought on by drinking and dementia? It was unclear – at first.
I’ll be forever grateful for the outreach and support of Sue’s neighbor, Karen who stepped into the fray one summer day as she responded to Sue’s desperate phone call, asking for help when she fell on the kitchen floor as she sorted her medications and Lisa’s, resulting in a chaotic mess.
Karen could’ve ignored Sue but instead she called me and the paramedics. Karen was horrified by Sue’s incoherence and the pill-strewn mayhem in the kitchen, but she stayed in place until I arrived. I share more details about the incident in the book, but the point of this ‘Peek Inside’ is gratitude for dear hearts like Karen who stepped in, even when her overriding compulsion was to run – or look the other way.
I still ache thinking about Karen and her sincerity. Over the years, I bonded with so many strangers through shared trauma with Sue. I had never met Karen before that day, and I’d never see her again, but her hug was a whole-heart embrace – she was trying to give me as much love and strength as possible. For her own mental health, she needed to distance herself from Sue. She closed that door – but she did so with deep empathy for me. Karen had the stamina for one fiasco only: one and done.
Even though she continued to live next door after the incident, Karen became reclusive – at least where Sue and Lisa were concerned. Sue was puzzled and often said, “Karen must be traveling again; I never see her anymore.” No, not traveling, exactly, I thought, just unwilling to ride the crazy train, Sue.
“Surviving Sue”, p. 189
It’s true – I never saw Karen again even though she continued to live next door to Sue and Lisa after the incident. Her empathy and warmth that day gave me a lift that I sorely needed and set off a string of positive events as other angels and heroes began to appear.
Vicki ❤
Learn more about “Surviving Sue” here or stop by to leave a review or comment. Thank you so much for reading the book, the blog posts and/or listening to the podcast. My greatest hope is that my mom’s story will help others.
Victoria Ponders 
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