Playing Hide and Not Go Seek

Gosh, I haven’t crawled into this space in a long time. It's like my hide and never seek spot. A place to lay the tears of my weeping heart and never look back.  It's a comfort zone I have avoided because it is filled with deep pain. Pain secured here, so that I may continue life's journey with a lightened since of grief.  I have a huge load to get rid of right now.

I was thinking of Mom yesterday morning, as if I don't think of her about a million times a minute, and the many new memories I have of her.
 
Mom and Pinoch, the oldest and the youngest. The two who were so much alike in attitude and ways and the way they interacted. The way they accepted and rejected each other. The constant "I'm not playing with you," followed by the shouts of pretend battle. The way Mom would poke him with her cane when he sat quiet (finally), and the game would continue.

I'm going to miss him gathering his "books to read to Granny," Kindle (to play games) and baby to lay on the bed while he kept Granny company as she watched TV in her room.

I sit in admiration at the way the three year old took it on as his duty, to stop whatever he was doing when he'd hear the tap of her cane coming from the other side of the house, and run to turn on the bathroom light. Then run back to grab her hand and walk with her to the bathroom. Or if she ventured out of her room without it,  he would run to get it for her.
I laugh at the memory of the occasions he would run ahead to hide inside claiming he had to go first.  Their verbal battle would always end in laughter and a poke from the cane when he gave in and let her go first.

I think sadly of the few times he would be napping and she would be peeking around the corner looking for his swiftness and asking "where is he?" Only for her face to fall at our answer. I'm going to miss that and so many other interactions between those two. As I'm sure he will, now I watch his face fall when he says, "I only want to talk to her. "

I'm not going to miss how her waning memory had bothered her so much she was beginning to call herself,  stupid.

I'm not going to miss the way she would bemoan the absence of her children.  Those, who she often told me, "Were busy with their jobs and life." I understand that mindset of self comfort. It's life,  people are busy, some can only deal with situations by keeping their minds full, and others are simply pure unadulterated, thieving, best forgotten, lying-assed, pieces of shit, who will not be thought of again. And yes, I do have a few anger issues. At least it's directed at one person.

I'm not going to miss watching her crumble when a Sunday has ended and the meal she cooked wasn't eaten by those she expected to visit or the phone didn’t ring because she didn't receive a call. I'm going to let that crap go, put it here and forget about it.

I'm also going to place the hurt, crushed part of my heart here. The part killed by words aimed to destroy a relationship. When a parent dies, siblings need to handle their own guilt without trying to hurt others.  Nothing will repair it and I don't want that memory.
I want to remember things like, how I was born to rise with the birds and would often go sit on the porch as a child and Mom would chew me out. Worried about me sitting out early in the morning without company and possibly being abducted or hurt. I love how she chose it as her time to leave. Now she will forever be, in my sunrise. Life never ends.

I'm going to miss my mom. Even though she could drive me crazy over who was the boss of whom,  what she could still accomplish,  whether or not she took her meds, and repeating childhood incidents better forgotten. I wouldn't trade the last seven months of being her companion,  whipping girl, and confidant, for anything.

Throwing Rocks at Time

The year is almost over. Thank God. This has been a year from the freakin' pits of hell. Hard and dark.
I can't even tell you how I have hated 2013. A year, in my opinion, that God sat back, nodded at whomever is in charge of bullcrap and sh#% days and said "have at it, do your damnedest ,cause as much havoc and mayhem as you can in her life and then let's see where she stands."

I have to stand on this rock or I will either fall and drown or grab a hammer and shatter it pebble by pebble and start throwing it at that wall standing between me and happiness.

All This Fellow Sees is the Happy

This fellow holds the brochure in his hand, and smiles. I wonder if I should even say anything about it or her to him. There it sat quietly for days. Exactly where I carefully tucked it in the pocket behind the paraphenilia behind the driver's seat, reluctant to bring it in the house. Too afraid of the memories each tiny slice of life would bring, I rarely look at it..well not for too long. Too afraid of the tears, I push it down to suppress memories , he pulls it out and smiles. Where I touch it gingerly and linger wistfully over each picture, this fellow grabs it with both hands , twisting and turning as he recognizes faces and speaks jibberish. I see the past and all he sees is the happiness.. I pray for that mindset.

The Phenominal Mind

There is a phenom of the unconscious mind that triggers a reaction in the human body, the conscious mind struggles to understand. 'It' is the rememberance of time. The time, hour, minute of a loved one's passing. It is that restless feeling that over comes you each month as that certain day looms nearer. It sneaks on you with an overflow of memories and urges to call and/or visit. It brings unexpected sadness and rushes of tears. Makes you wonder why you're suddenly so miserable when you were "fine, okay, and doing so well"...as you like to tell the world. I find this phenom intriguing. I marvel at the working of time on the human mind. The way that cord of relationship and recognition throbs with each of our heartbeats and pulls us a little closer to those going through the same cycle of longing and regret. The way that chord, that sour note of that unwanted, imagined alarm wakes us with the shrill cry, TODAY IS THE DAY!! There is not a day that goes by that I wish a mistake has been made. That I am in a bad dream and none of this is real. Grief takes time to adjust to, time I wish I could snooze through. If only there were a button.

For Want of a Flower

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever. "-Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Feeling of Laughter

So I had this dream the other night , well not really a dream because I don't remember anything specific except the laughter. It was as if the room was full of laughter. I was surrounded and embraced in it. I don't know if I was a part of the joke or the joke. I never saw anyone, I just heard the laughter. And it felt joyous, light, wonderful and I literally felt myself chuckle. The way infants do in their sleep. And then I heard her laugh. It was so clear, so near, as if she were in the room and it woke me. ~~~~~~
The funny thing is, earlier in the night I was telling a very comforting friend how truly sad I was. My every thought of Angela was making me want to cry. My every thought in life and sleep was cocooning me in the urge to cry. I was beginning to feel as if I were smothering...drowning. All I could see was tears. All I could dream were tears and I was crying so hard in my dreams to where my body shook, uncontrollably. Like a toddler who couldn't catch his breath after his wish wasn't met and his little heart was breaking. It was beginning to get worse with each passing moment. And then I felt the laughter. All day.

*On a humerous note: After Angela's passing, our baby sister Pansy found Angela had placed the pictures of herself on her camera.

Days Crawl, Time Flies.

 I can't believe how many days have passed. And yet it feels like yesterday.  Tomorrow it will be a month and yet it feels like one day. The days have crawled along slowly, each as horrifically sad as the other. Time has flown by. All willy nilly without a moment of empathy or sympathy for those of us stuck in a rut of some form or other.
Everyday you remember, feel, relive conversations and interactions and in doing so, you look at the clock and the minutes have gone as if in a whirlwind.  People say, 'time heals' and that's really meant to be comforting, but I don't think its true. I think time teaches you how to bury your emotions. It teaches you how to adjust your mask so no one sees exactly how you feel. Time, gives you the moments to prepare for your Oscar winning performance.  Where you're able to pretend all is well and life goes on a usual. And it does. In those slow dragging days it is best to find something to occupy your mind while your soul and spirit heals. Time won't let you forget, but it will help the remembering not be as painful.

The Sun Will Rise, Soon.

So, I lay here at five in the morning and think of Angela and I'm not even gonna cry.
All of my life I was the early riser and in recent years, she had also become a sun chasers. Calling in the wee hours and starting the conversation with' I know I'm not waking you' or 'I should've called you an hour ago'. We never talked about anything specific...our grandsons, the kids, siblings, Mom. But you know when people have a little anxiety. It's so much easier to talk about other things.
I'm not even gonna cry. 

God and I Will Box for Sure

I rarely come here to write. This is a page for those times nothing in life works and I have to rant and whine. This is one of those times. I have a bit of anger going on that I need to work through.

 I will forever think of January as the darkest month.
 For twenty years whenever the first day of the New Year rolled in I would remember my dad had died New Year's Eve of 1992, he didn't get to see the first day of '93.
This January of 2013 rolled in with extreme excitement . The past year had been awesome. The first year in years of waiting for dreaded phone calls, that none came. Many happy days of waking and not having any bad news concerning my sister's health. Great parties and celebrations. The happy news my children's books would finally 'be' in print . I texted my sister (the eldest one) immediately after midnight to wish her a happy new year, joyously proclaiming how I was seeing great things happening in 2013. She responded, in all caps- FOR ALL OF US....not even two weeks later, the phone call came.

As my sister (the youngest) and I rushed through the doors of the hospital towards the elevators for ICU I had my head down responding to well wishes from Facebook friends on my cell. Suddenly I could see my dad walk past and I quickly turned around to see if maybe I had walked too close to someone who resembled him and I would apologize. No one was there. This was one of those, 'oh, Damn moments' you never want to face. My unexpected movements caused my sister to stop,too. I explained what I thought I saw and we brushed it off and continued on our way. I kept that vision to myself, but I knew in that moment our life was going to change. Why else would he be there except to see his favorite daughter. Who else would God send, but the man who angered her the most. It gave me comfort to believe they had finally made up and Angela's soul would 'be' at rest. Needless to say, I really wanted to believe 'he' was there to comfort her and send her back to us. All the time I prayed for a miracle and wanted every twitch to 'be' a good sign, I knew better. I can't even explain the feelings of the days to come. Its as if life exploded into a million fragments in a wind tunnel made from a black plastic bag. You punch and fight to get out while trying to put your life back together. Trying to hurry and put the pieces back together and then get out of the bag before you smother in your sorrow. The only thing that will save you is acceptance . Once you go through that door, all else is easier. It doesn't get better, nothing really changes but it seems easier, the weight of grief is gone, the days feel brighter and the new normal seems promising. I still see great things happening this 2013 I just see them from a different angle.

I have to say, when my time comes and if God sends the one person who irritated me so much in life that every time I saw or thought of him I wanted to spit, God and I will box for sure.

And, yet I Write

Nothing in life has changed, and yet I continue to write. Thoughts flow through my head like the waterfall over the Niagara and I must pen it.
YES, I said, pen. It is my mode of securing my thoughts. I wake at 2-3a in the morn fighting off sleep and the voices clambering to be heard. After all, I am a writer. In word and deed if not in finances.
So, I must go now and do some marketing. It is Manic Monday Marketing day.

Pounding Pavement

Okay, so school is out for summer. That means no more in home care giving I must find an outside job. I hate job searching.

living without power-day 10

So, today a little power returned. I breath cool refreshness. I am happy and yet sad. Another piece of me...my life had to be sacrificed. True it was only a thing, but everything is a piece of you. A tiny substance that holds you together. Today some power returned.

living without power-days 4-7

Learned a bowl of water resting on the removable grill burner of the stove above four candles can heat and cook. Amazing. Being without power is can be more than a pyhsical thing. It manifest into mental where in which you can lose yourself. If one is not careful the reign ofpower can easily be placed in the hands of another. Even without poweryou must control your own destiny. Don't sell yourself or your items short just so the light will shine for you again. Bad doesn't last forever. At least that's what they say.

living without power-day3

The power eludes me. I have none and am not the controller of anthing beyond my attitude. I will not be broken. Eventually God will remember us and come to our rescue. It is all resting in His hands. I just wish He would stop playing hand games so I can get back to the act of living in the real world.

living without power-day2

Okay, so this really sucks. Been here and done this before and it still sucks. Tried to get help before power diminished and was told since I worked from home I couldn't get any help. It is considered a business and they don't help businesses. What a crock.

Woke up very early and couldn't see the light. Both literally and figuratively. Where is my light?

living without power-day 1

In all heartfelt sanity I have to say God sucks. With all of the supposed power He possess He fails consistently when it comes to proving himself to me. It is said we are to 'test' Him. assiming this means to believe Him. I'm finding this extremely hard to do when I follow His word and yet everything keeps falling apart. What the shot in hell?
It always seems as if the nonbeliever walks around with his little bucket over flowing with treasure while stuck a hole in my bucket the size of Texas. What the shit in hell! Gotta go. Have to take the battery outta my cell before it dies.

The Gap is Small

Nothing that improves finances has changed. So many new ideas explored and implemented and yet things remain the same. And a little worse. I would cry, but then I would be really sad.

Blind Change

I don't know when it happened. Hadn't been aware of it happening and nearly missed it. Gradually and inexplicably my blinding belief has begun disappearing. I guess it started at the loss of the home I loved so much and not being able to afford another of my own. Hurricanes can be such a damper on one's lifestyle. Maybe it began when I stopped listening to my favorite christian bands on my Ipod. I blame the trauma of the big delete.

I only know that where I used to run to God's Words as comfort, I now feel doubt and I guess a bit of anger. Now when I read words of praise, or hear songs doing the same I change songs, close blogs....move on. Its like an unconscious knee jerk reaction. I don't even think about it. Sometimes I'm able to catch myself and I stand still.My faith is still there. I know deep in my heart God could change things in a minute. I know this because everything I had home, business, income is now gone. I wish something good would happen soon.

Lamenting

Lord, can I please have a break. Don't just shine your blessings of a sunny day just on the land of the Earth. Would you please, please give me a break and show me some favor. What good is life when nothing good happens in life? What good is life when all around me are falling ill and funds have been depleted and You are not helping to pull me out of the hole. You, better than I know I can't help myself. I feel as if I have stepped out of the boat in to neck high waters and You have forgotten my name. I am tired, Lord.

Will You please look my way and remember me because I am trying hard to hold on to Your hand and remember You are there. I need a break.

Ugh

I am so frustrated I just can't think. There are so many opportunities out there. I have a great idea to start an online business, but I don't have a dollar to get started.

I have a chance to print and sell a few history books at a meeting, but don't have the money for ink or paper. The same for an outdoor market in June.

I can't figure out what the....what God wants. I wish He wouldn't give me ideas without the ability to fulfill them. Its frustrating. Let alone depressing.