The Holidays

I used to go days without remembering you're dead. Every few days, I'd remember and the feelings of helplessness, grief, anger, etc would bubble up for a little bit until the kids distracted me. But ever since Thanksgiving, the closer we get to Christmas the more I think of you. Every day, and for longer periods of time every day. I'm sure it's normal. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and it's a time of year where everyone is happy and warm and with family and friends. But you are in the cold ground all alone. I really hate that. I wish I lived closer to your grave so I could visit more often. So let's try to reason myself out of this. You're not alone. You're in heaven and you're not tormented any more, and now you can watch down on us and see us and know us in ways you couldn't while you were alive. Cheery thinking. And here I am, a professed Catholic, and I have serious trouble accepting that idea. Not that I don't think you went to heaven, it's just that I saw your beautiful blue casket lowered into the ground. My mind knows where you are. You're in the ground. I'm going to argue with myself again...Yes, your body is in the ground but your soul is in heaven. This isn't helping at all. I still feel like you're alone and cold.

Death sucks. Makes me think for a second that I wish I weren't alive so that I didn't feel this pain. But then I'd miss all the great feelings...which totally outnumber the bad ones. Now if I didn't have my family, it would be another story.

Moving on. I think you'd be really proud of us...we put an offer on a foreclosed home and it was accepted. It's A LOT for the money. A great investment!! I'm really excited and I know you would be too. There's some work to do to it, and tomorrow morning the home inspector and electrician is going to be there. Hopefully everything goes very smoothly and we're in our OWN home within the next month!

I'm going to end it here so that I can try to forget about you for tonight. I love you.

It's almost Thanksgiving!

I'm going to say this quick, as clearly as I can. Quickly, becaus eI don't want to mull over these feelings and end up crying and anxious, tossing and turning until past midnight and needing multiple ambiens to fall asleep. I will not cry.

All through my childhood, my mom was my best friend. She fulfilled all my needs. She supported me, encouraged me, taught me, laughed with me, loved me, punished me, fed me, groomed me...you get the picture. She was my sunshine. So anything or anyone that upset her upset me also. She never verbally expressed her negative feelings about my dad (at least not that I can remember), but children pick up on everything. Every little expression in your face when you think they're not looking, I promise! So I noticed that dad made her feel bad. Why? I don't know, and it really doesn't matter. Dad making mom upset = me not liking dad. In this way that she didn't know about, she formed my opinion about him without ever giving me a chance to decide that on my own. Her enemys were my enemies. I avoided my dad because even though I loved him and didn't want to avoid him, I had to show mom that I loved her. Showing love to my dad might upset my mom.

I came about this revelation in a recent meeting with my therapist (within the last 2 months). All by myself. Of course she asked the right questions and pointed me in the right direction while I talked myself from one thought to another. But when I said the words, completed the thought, and realized what I had said and what that meant, I was shocked. My, how simple actions shape our world.

I don't choose to dwell on these sad thoughts...but the newest Nicholas Sparks book (The Last Song) has an eerily similar story and it's bringing back a lot of feelings.

And damnit, I cried. But the tears are gone now, so hopefully the night will continue to unfold as happily as it was before I felt the urge to write this down.

On a side note Dad, you would get a KICK out of your grand-daughter. She's a riot. So funny, genuine and curious.

Salem Fair...

I forgot to add in a post back in July that Jeff and I got to go to the Salem Fair together - childless! I was soooooooo excited. But that was very emotional for me too because we always went and I had so many memories of you there. I cried on almost every ride. I closed my eyes on every ride and tried to let you experience it through me just one more time. I know you loved coasters :) And Jeff was a sweetie. You remember the zipper?? I rode on it with you once or twice, and Jeff was starting to get sick by the time we got around to it, but I couldn't right alone, so he rode anyways and ended up throwing up half the way home.

OOOh, and remember when Daniel and I bugged the SHIT out of you and mom to let us get those "devil dan's dancing devil sticks"???.......and we got them. :) Thanks.

Adrianna will be 1 in 2 days. I wish you could see how beautiful she is and how much she and Jeffrey love eachother. It's heart breaking. I really wish you could be here.

Can you believe it?

Can anyone believe it? If you know me?

Something is wrong with my mom. She needs medication, therapy, a white straight-coat. All of the above? She used to sing "They're coming to take me away...haha, hehe, ho ho, to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all day long, and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white shirts, and they're coming to take me away!"

They need to come take her away now. I don't know what she's thinking. We used to be best friends, I used to think I knew her inside and out (and that's what she's thinking of me now), but I don't understand what's happening to her.

I got a disgusting letter in the mail from her today, telling me to get a tattoo for her on the bottom of my foot. It should be a tattoo of shit with "MOM" written on it so I could step on her daily without her actually feeling it like she does now. And she's disappointed with her birthday presents I got her. I had planned on having a portrait made of Daniel and I, framed for her for her birthday, but the appointment was a week after Daniel went back to TX so that great idea failed. Apparently it's been bothering her that I told her I had a great gift in mind (it would've been great...) and then got her something not-so-great.

Man, I am SO GLAD I'm not a man.

I don't have many words, but yet I could go on and on about it. Mostly because I'm just confused as to how I'm hurting her, how I'm "looking down my nose" at her. What's changed in my behavior? Let's see...I'm a mother of a 2 and 1 year old, my dad died in a field of a drug overdose in January, and my mom (no matter how much she denies this) made a big deal about his life insurance money. That creeped me out. It made me uncomfortable, especially when she was doing it AT HIS FUNERAL. Yes, that made me uncomfortable. So if I looked at her differently, it's because I started to see her differetly. All those comments about "Well your dad is still alive, I checked the obits and he's not in there..." over the past 7 or so years. I was hurt so bad by his death that to hear her talk about the money so freely, so expectantly, had she been waiting impatiently all along?

I thought this woman taught me to be a mother. Where did she go?

Dad, please. Can I talk to you one more time? I swear I'll tell you I love you and I'll hug you like I mean it. I wanna smell you and hold your rough hands and look at your tan, almost red, skin. I want to hear that condenscending laugh that used to make me feel like shit.

I feel like more of an adult today, because I realize I don't have parents anymore.

Ugh.

Got the tattoo, and I love it. I'm not sure of all the reasons that I got it. But I do know some....1)I'm not sure that you knew how much I loved you, well...there it is and it's not going anywhere. 2)I was grieving too hard and I needed it to stop. The tattoo helped that, a lot. 3)I am proud that you were my dad.

I'm sure there are more reasons, but I figured those were enough. I don't cry hard anymore. I might shed a tear here and there, and I get really sad, and when I see things that remind me of you it hurts a lot. The guys that look like you are the worst. Almost balding, glasses, beard, hard-working-looking. They make my heart skip, like maybe its you. Maybe you're not dead, maybe you're clean, and maybe you're looking for me.

Thanks for the life insurance money. I know you didn't pay the premiums, mom did. As I'm sure you know, there's a nasty mess concerning the money right now.I feel like I am doing what you would want me to do with the money - taking care of my family.Granted, my husband and children aren't my ONLY family that needs taking care of, but they are my first priority. Because of this money, we don't have to worry about unexpected this and that, and it's put us in a really good position to make a better future for our family. But what would you say? I can't exactly ask you...it's your life insurance money we're talking about. The only way you ever told me what you wanted done with the money was by making Daniel and I the beneficiaries. So when I say that I can't ask you - it's true, but not entirely because you made Daniel and I the beneficiaries.

So I can't talk to you, and mom doesn't want to talk to me. Hm. Just when you think it can't get any worse, huh? I can't talk to you because you're dead, and I can't talk to mom because she's upset that I'm not giving her half of my life insurance money.

I know you would want mom taken care of - I do to. I wish I had enough money to take care of us like I have now AND take care of mom, but I feel like she's trying to make me choose between her and my family. I'm giving her money, is it how much you would want me to give?




SILENCE




God please don't let me lose my father and my mother in the same year.

Tattoo for You

So I'm wondering what you would say about a tattoo. Probably "AAhh Sis, why you wanna go and do that?" with a half-smile. You had 2 yourself, unfortunately I can't find any good pictures of them to replicate them.

So I decided on wildflowers. Colorful, and I have an art consult with the tattoo artist tonight, so we'll see. I made a sketch of the style I'm thinking about. We'll see...I'm excited.

Iris (my therapist) wants me to make a few lists in my big book that I'm writing down my days in.
1 - questions that I have about you and your life
2 - good memories
3 - bad memories

that's pretty tough. i'm already grieving, HARD, still 4 months later, and I'm supposed to relive all those moments that are hurting me so much right now. I'm not sure how that's supposed to help. And when to write them down..."hmm, do I feel like fucking up my day now or later...?"

God I wonder if Mom or Daniel are feeling this way.

This song ruins me for hours.



I found god
On the corner of first and Amistad
Where the west was all but won
All alone, smoking his last cigarette
I Said where you been, he said ask anything
Where were you?
When everything was falling apart
All my days were spent by the telephone
It never rang
And all I needed was a call
That never came
To the corner of first and Amistad

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

In the end everyone ends up alone
Losing her, the only one who’s ever known
Who I am, who I’m not, who I want to be
No way to know how long she will be next to me

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait?
Where were you, where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

Early morning, City breaks
I’ve been calling for years and years and years and years
And you never left me no messages
You never send me no letters
You got some kind of nerve, taking all I want

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Where were you where were you

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait?
Where were you, where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

Why’d you have to wait?
To find me, to find me

Ugh, this is so hard. Breathing feels so hard. Living seems so hard. I just can't do everything I'm trying to do, I get that, I give up. Please, anything, take me somewhere EASY. Jeff just called for my dinner order from Quiznos...hearing his voice reminds me that it's OK, that everything is alright and he'll take care of me and always love me. But it also makes me feel horrible because I want to be the best for him and these problems I have are not the best. I know I can't help it, but he deserves better. I feel like I'm burdening him. Please take me somewhere easy, I just want to live life.

Going back "home" for the 4th of July was harder than I thought it would be, I figured it wouldn't be a problem at all. Tell that to Jeff, who listened to me sob for a good 45 min on the way down the highway.

I feel different, in that I just can't put up that front/face that I want people to see any more. I am the same person, just sad, and I can't be all peppy for everyone all the time now. That doesn't mean I'm not happy - everyone knows I'm BLESSED. But I am grieving still, and it shows on my face every once in a while.

Iris (my therapist) said that I should set aside a specific time to think about you, to let the feelings come. She said I shouldn't let them just come and go all day, that isn't productive grieving. She wants me to write down everything I can remember - the good and the bad - on seperate pages, of course.

I knew I had problems before your death, but I thought I could handle them now, but since then, it's obvious I can't handle them and that it really weird. I hate grieving. I hate death, and I hope no one else that I love dies before me. And I feel sorry for those that love me, after I die. I guess not all death is the same - yours is definitely one of a kind. So I guess I shouldn't worry about future deaths so much, because they won't be like yours (hopefully).

Iris told me that something from your childhood/early adulthood troubled you and I believe it. She wants me to figure it out. I'd love to figure it out. Will it relieve this sadness? Why should I put the effort into it? Would it do you justice? Would it bring me peace? I dunno.

I visited your grave on July 4th. Took me only a minute to find it. The headstone still isn't correct, but I'm sure granny is working on it. I still can't stand to walk on a grave, so instead of laying on top of you, I laid next to you - and only because I knew that ground was empty. If someone was on that side of you, I would've chose the other. I took in your view. You see a lot of clouds lol. It was pretty nice actually, but not something I'd care to do permanently.

I wish I could remember what we said to each other on my wedding day. I'm assuming it went something like this..."You look beautiful Sis", "Thank you, you look good.", "Thanks", **insert uncomfortable hug**"Ok I've gotta be going", "You can't stay?", "Nah, Granny's waiting for me in the car.", "OK, I love you.", "Love you too Sis, Bye.", "Bye Dad."

When did I see you before that?? God I can't remember. Was it the time when you took Robbie and I to Myrtle Beach and then left us there in the middle of the night? You came knocking on my door after we arrived home, having been "saved" by mom, to give me my CD I left in the car you ran off with. I was so angry. You said you are sorry and I just nodded and closed the door in your face.

It's been 3 months and it seems like it should be plenty time to move on but I am still just as sensitive as when I first found out, if not, more. I try to avoid watching movies with death and drugs because of the places it leads my mind to. And everyone is right, what was ailing you is no longer ailing you. You're resting finally, and it's come to ail me. Well, it will not lead me in the same direction, but instead it is helping me understand you better (I think).

I've started the REAL meds - lorazepam. The wimpy zoloft wasn't doing anything for me, and I needed quick relief before I just shut down. Hopefully this will be the only medicine I need. Still taking the zoloft, and the ambien. But it's the therapy that I find tough...thinking about things that bring back those uncomfortable feelings and having to face them in order to push through them. So that one day I don't need medication

Enough for tonight - ambien is taking over. I'll close with the fact that I have an AWESOME Husband and I love him so much and I am so thankful for him supporting me through my tough times.

I don't know what to write, of if I should write anything. But I'll start somewhere. I often wonder what your "lasts" were. What did you have to drink...a coke? What did you eat last?...and did you ever imagine that it was your last bite of food? What were you really doing? And what really happened? Were you scared? Did it happen quickly, or did you have moments to reflect on your life. If you had moments, did you think about me?

It's really hard to wrap my mind around that you're dead because for several years before your actual death, you were already "dead" to me. I only saw you maybe once a year, never knew where you were or if you were OK. So, you almost didn't exist, and that was painful enough. But now knowing that you really don't exist anymore, that you're not breathing, and that your body is in the cold ground - that hurts A LOT MORE.

It doesn't feel right that you're in the ground. It's weird. You're my dad, and it's not like I'm middle-aged or anything. I've never had a "problem" with burying dead people before, and I'm certainly not a fan of cremation, so I'm not sure why it bothers me so much. Maybe because I watched them lower you. Maybe because it was a chilly, and very rainy day. Thinking about you puts a sad damper on my mood.

I've started to see a therapist and we're trying to figure out what's "wrong" with me. All those things I inherited from you that I always despised...the way sometimes my condescending laugh sounds just like yours, worrying about money, being a perfectionist, having anxiety...I HATED those things because I wanted to be nothing like you. Nothing. You hurt my feelings and I didn't understand why you were the way you were. But now that you're gone, I appreciate those things because they're almost all I have left of you. I have an old ring of yours, and a pair of gym shorts that belonged to you, but those are the only physical items. Talking to the therapist is making me start to realize how hard I am on myself, and making me understand maybe why you made the decisions you did. Would I ever touch drugs now? No. But give me 20 more years of living like I do now, and my answer might be different. What a nasty thing to pass to your children. I really hope that I don't.