Monique

10/10/18

Added 2018-10-10 16:36:35 +0000 UTC

Good morning.

I hope all of you are enjoying your October. Here, on the Jersey Shore, we are being blessed with 80 degrees and sunshine, after having had two months of non-stop rain. Thanks, mama nature.

Firstly, I'd like to ask you all to keep Photosensualis in your thoughts. What could be the largest storm of the century is bearing down on their town today. They are two very dear friends to me, and I owe much of my success in this industry to them. I'm hoping they and their animals survive the storm with minimal damage.

I have been spending the majority of my days with my grandfather. My work right now has been to provide him with the comfort of being insulated with love and support. Unfortunately, that's about all I can do. We treated his stage 1 cancer in January. In the following months, we were worried about the infection that has taken residency in his heart and his spine. Meanwhile, his cancer has been really wearing him down. It originated in his lung, and now it has spread to his throat, stomach, liver, and rectum. He has lost 50 lbs in the last few months. He has not had any appetite at all. He has good days and bad days. His good days, he has very minimal pain, minimal symptoms, and is in great spirits. His bad days, he becomes very depressed, and has a lot of pain and discomfort. He has trouble breathing, and gets winded easily.

Mentally, he is still very much the same man he has always been; Stubborn and steadfast. This has fortified a resilience in his physical body. He is still as verbal as ever. He still walks (runs, if he has to go!) and climbs in and out of my truck like a champion.

On one hand, I am so grateful for his refusal to forfeit to his disease. It has given me, and continues to give me, more active quality time with him. On the other hand, that same refusal is a refusal to accept reality, which has been incredibly emotionally exhausting for both my grandfather and me.

Every day, we have the same conversation regarding his terminal condition. He asks about his options. He wants second, third, fourth opinions... When met with the fact that there are no more options, he shuts down. He changes the subject, mid conversation. Then, he asks his social workers or his nurses if they can help him with finding treatment. The conversation gets forwarded to me, and I have to explain to him again that there is no treatment. His response has been, at times, anger towards me, as if he was never made aware of what's going on, as if he was not given a choice in the matter, and/or as if I am forcing him to live this fate. He refuses to understand that it isn't that he's unaware, it's that he is unwilling to accept his mortality. He wants someone to validate the irrational notion of immortality for him. Sometimes, I wish that I could do that for him. But, while I can be very supportive and understanding, I cannot lie to him.

My grandmother treated her death much differently. To be frank, she knew it was inevitable, and she gave NO fucks. She continued enjoying the vices that she knew would kill her, and did not let the paranoia of the imminent stress her out. Instead, she stressed the rest of us out, by disappearing (many times without pants on) on a regular basis, getting on the wrong bus, and other general demented debauchery.

My grandfather's resilience would give him so much more freedom if it was not fueled by an absolute terror in the face of his dying. Every day, he asks me how he can get better, but I cannot lie to him. I tell him that as long as he keeps moving, eating, and believing, he will persist (as he has) longer than the average man, but that there is no cure to cancer, and that we do not get to decide when he leaves this body. He is determined to defy this. He has not eaten more than a few bites in several weeks. Yesterday, after having another cyclical conversation about mortality, he ate every single bite on his plate, and then asked me for apple pie. Apple pie is his favorite, but he hasn't had any desire to eat it in weeks. Then at dinner, he ate everything on his plate again. He keeps reminding me that he is eating, so he is going to get better. I told him that I would want nothing more than for him to get better, but that my only goal is to make sure that he doesn't feel any pain.

I understand that my grandfather is simply cycling through the stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. He has yet to achieve acceptance. As much as I understand this, it has been tremendously difficult for me not to take things personally; Especially as I cycle through these stages myself, and dedicate every second of my time to a man who has been so important to me.

Per Eva Luna's father's suggestion, I am reading The Tibetan Book of Living & Dying. I finally made it to Section 2; Dying. Sometimes I fear that I am running out of time to absorb the guidance. It's important to continually remind myself that the present mindfulness begins with practicing it NOW, whether than worrying about later. This is precisely what I have been trying to explain to my grandfather; is that if we can liberate ourselves from this fear, we can live our last time with gratitude and happiness. Easier said than done.

A sweet photographer friend of mine sent me three additional books in the mail: The Tibetan Book of the Dead, The Egyptian Book of the Dead, and The Five Invitations. I have been reading during our television shows, and in bed at night.

I cannot express enough times how grateful I am for your friendship and support. It means so much to me that you respect my work beyond the nudity, that you respect me as an artist, that you respect me as a human, and that you appreciate my love for my family. That my grandfather occupies the thoughts of so many people is so wonderfully gratifying.

That being said, so many of you have reached out to me; have written long, heartfelt letters to me. Please do not be discouraged by my silence. If you ever feel inclined to reach out, please do. I love hearing from you, and reading your sweet notes. I am happy to hear about the struggles in your life as well. Do know that I will absolutely respond, even if not in a timely fashion. I am overwhelmed, but the supportive gestures really boost me when I'm feeling low. Thank you SO much. Truly.

My grandfather, for the time being, does not feel comfortable making a significant move. He has never adapted well to change, especially now that he is sick. He is used to having round-the-clock attention, his pain well managed, and he does receive a lot of affection from his nurses. So he is still in his nursing facility. It is 40 minutes from my house, one way. So every day, I am driving back and forth twice, so that he can spend his days with me, out of the facility. While it does give me a little down time to sleep, it has been hard on my gas tank.

To stay afloat, I am taking all the local work I can get. I am also really focusing my attention on my Patreon, and book sales. Now that I am on hiatus from touring, you can expect a more regular flow of posting on my blog. Again, thanks to all of you for supporting me through the constant and turbulent transitions.