Saturday will be a year since we put you in the ground. A year since the worst day of my life, to date. I'm sure there will be worse days ahead, and that sucks. I'm upset that I am still so torn up over this. To which my therapist would say "That's ok, you're not supposed to get over it." Except that I don't like feeling like I do sometimes. The added stress from moving and buying the house just makes it a lot worse.

I went to church this morning...there's a Catholic church right across from OUR house. :) So we don't have to worry about leaving early and what-not. Just walk right across the street. I went alone, Jeff stayed home with the kids. I sat there in the pew looking down at my jeans and my black high-top shoes and thought how you would have never let me go to church in that when I was younger. If you were around now and saw me go to church like that you would shake your head and give me a disapproving "Sis...". I also thought about why you were so insistent on going to church. Did it keep your demons at bay? Either way, I am thankful that it was a ritual in my childhood.

I must think about what time of year it is at least 6 times a day now. Ever since January. Wait, ever since Thanksgiving. I guess it's a lot of "firsts" since you've been "gone". Even though you were always gone...

Next year should be easier, right?

Back to the original thought. So I'm sitting in church and started getting the urge to cry, so I got on my knees in the pew and gave into it. Everyone was singing, so I was sure no one would notice. And even if they did...they wouldn't bother me. That's what I like so much about the church. Boy the tears flowed. Church does that to me. Allllll my feelings come out. I thought I got it all out of me, and stood back up with everyone else. Then it was time for sacrament, so I got in the line to take it and about half way to the alter I started feeling like I was going to cry again I looked for the nearest exit from the line because I was sure that once I got to the alter I wouldn't be able to stay on my feet and I would drop to my knees again and this time, someone would say something. Great first impression. Long story short, I made it though the the rest of the mass without any more crying.

I dreamed about you a couple nights ago. It was the anniversary of your death and a party was going to be thrown. There was a small cake and 1 piece had been taken out of it. I just remember feeling like I had to protect Daniel and that you were laying on the floor near me with a horribly sad look in your eyes. It was obvious you were sorry.

I'll sign off before I ruin my mood. Love you Dad.

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.