No matter what is going on in your life, whether it be tragedy or excitement, Friday is a universal day of relief….for me anyway. I guess it’s because for the next two days I can choose whether or not I’m going to get out of bed or wash my hair or leave the house or watch movies all day. Those two days I can be alive or not… However, this weekend I will choose to be alive!!! I will choose to be alive and enjoy what I can because I feel inspired…… I knew someone who stared death straight in the face because of breast cancer – and survived. She chose to live life to the fullest from that point on. When she was needlessly taken in a random car accident, her friends and family could say she definitely lived her life. I want my friends and family to be able to say that. I want to live my life to the fullest and I’m going to begin with this weekend. I have a family wedding and then a date with some awesome friends for a fireworks party at Carnegie – hip hip hooray!!!! The grief I am carrying around for sweet Bonnie is like the Titanic and it’s getting a bit heavy. Just as it would take time to turn the Titanic around, it will take time to turn my grief around. However, it can be done and this weekend is when I’m going to start. Little by little as I have moments of clarity I am going to focus on exactly what my best friend would have focused on. I’m going to be positive and live my life to its best. Dare I do a cheer??? She used to kid me about being so “cheer-like” sometimes. She also used to kid me about talking too much!!! Haaaaaaaaaaa! If she were only around to see that I have found a new outlet for my words!
So today begins a new chapter….. I’m sure you’re excited to read about something besides my grief. I promise to try!! For example – take this morning – I didn’t even lose my cool when my loving sweet caring daughter looked at me like I had three horns on my head just because I told her that in order to go to school she actually had to get out of bed because I was certain I couldn’t load the bed and deliver it to her classes in a timely fashion. So when she stopped by my bedroom to hug me goodbye I politely told her that in the future, please don’t act like your mother is a scary version of the lochness monster because she asks that you get out of bed. Please only address me that way during episodes where I do become lochness like. I’m sure they will occur but you must reserve the attitude for those moments only. She literally grabbed my face between her hands and said – you have GOT to be the craziest mother than any girl can ask for. Then she kissed my nose and said goodbye. Teenagers. WHY in the world would she think that I am crazy???? Dear Reader, please note that right at this moment and probably many times in the future I will ask you questions that I do not want an answer to. Thank you.
DANCING WITH THE STARS.....
Friday, September 3, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
She's Here....
Dear Reader: If you think today’s blog is a little weird, that’s okay. You wouldn’t be the first one to think that something I do is weird or that I am just a bit weird in general. It makes me who I am and I’m okay with it. Now if you feel the need to walk up to me and tell me face to face that I am weird then it might be a different story. I might assault you with words that children shouldn’t hear or simply slap you across the face. Either way, it would be an awkward moment I’m sure. Please choose to keep your thoughts to yourself although I am obviously incapable of such discreet behavior.
Last night on the drive home I began to feel her with me. We chatted. Not in a horror film type conversation where the ghosts start talking and lights start flickering. I’m not hearing any voices and certainly haven’t seen her sitting next to me. But I felt her there with me. So I just started talking out loud. I told her how much I missed her. I told her how lonely I felt. I told her how many times I’ve started typing an email with her name in the “to” box before I realized I couldn’t do that and had to erase it. I told her that I’ve listened to that stupid radio station she loved in order to try and hear her favorite song. I told her I’ve kicked myself 100 times for not saving her last two voicemails – one where she tells me a story until the voicemail is full; the other where she plays the entire Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun song while telling me she’s driving her vette with the top down and wanted to share the moment with me. I told her that Todd, Samantha and Clay were doing okay but she probably already knew that. I told her that Samantha had emailed me and we were planning a weekend trip to visit her and see her dorm where she’s hung the frame we bought her. I talked to her like I had so many times before on the way home from work.
It felt good. Awesome, in fact. I still feel like she’s with me today. I cannot describe the peace it gives me to know that she’s watching over me. Of course there will still be tears and still be moments when I scream at no one about how unfair this is. But I can say that this is the first time since August 7th that I have felt even the slightest bit of peace inside. So I’ll take this small offering and keep it close. The rest of the world continues to move forward while I watch. I participate when necessary and then sleep to forget the rest. But now I know that eventually this small bit of peace will grow – because she is still with me.
Last night on the drive home I began to feel her with me. We chatted. Not in a horror film type conversation where the ghosts start talking and lights start flickering. I’m not hearing any voices and certainly haven’t seen her sitting next to me. But I felt her there with me. So I just started talking out loud. I told her how much I missed her. I told her how lonely I felt. I told her how many times I’ve started typing an email with her name in the “to” box before I realized I couldn’t do that and had to erase it. I told her that I’ve listened to that stupid radio station she loved in order to try and hear her favorite song. I told her I’ve kicked myself 100 times for not saving her last two voicemails – one where she tells me a story until the voicemail is full; the other where she plays the entire Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun song while telling me she’s driving her vette with the top down and wanted to share the moment with me. I told her that Todd, Samantha and Clay were doing okay but she probably already knew that. I told her that Samantha had emailed me and we were planning a weekend trip to visit her and see her dorm where she’s hung the frame we bought her. I talked to her like I had so many times before on the way home from work.
It felt good. Awesome, in fact. I still feel like she’s with me today. I cannot describe the peace it gives me to know that she’s watching over me. Of course there will still be tears and still be moments when I scream at no one about how unfair this is. But I can say that this is the first time since August 7th that I have felt even the slightest bit of peace inside. So I’ll take this small offering and keep it close. The rest of the world continues to move forward while I watch. I participate when necessary and then sleep to forget the rest. But now I know that eventually this small bit of peace will grow – because she is still with me.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
August.....
It’s Wednesday – hump day – mid-way day – Wednesday. Last night was absolutely wonderful. I will only share with you the incredibly ridiculous scene during my pedicure where the Vietnamese man began taking off the polish I had put on with my BFF before she passed away so I cried – he mistook my tears for pain – I told him no it’s just my heart – he asked if I was sick – I told him I was in “mourning” – he said he could reschedule me for the “morning”…..I’m waiting for it to appear on Candid Camera or America’s funniest home videos. Seriously – I wasn’t crying for long because of the idiocy of it all.
Today I was able to spend a few short minutes with the B club at lunch. Such a small piece of time with people who I know can truly relate to what appears is going to be a long solid feeling of funky for the unforeseeable future. I realized yesterday that I do not want to EVER live through the month of August again. It is a cursed month in my life. Something ridiculous happens to me in the month of August year after year. Do you think I’m dramatic?? Let me give you some insight about the month of August in my life. One August 6 years ago my grandfather, sweetest most wonderful, hero of my life, was at my home and collapsed, requiring an ambulance, and passing away thereafter. It was heartbreaking for me at the time. Then there was another August later. This is when I received the phone call from my stepmother who proceeded to tell me that my father was in serious condition in the hospital and I should come right away. From that point for the next 2 months I spent every weekend with my dad who lived in another state, and who passed away two months later. It continues. Later in yet another August my husband and I were going through an extremely rough time and decided to separate. I bought another home, my best friends helped me move out. It took one of our sons being in a motorcycle accident to shake us out of that mess and clear our heads. Thankfully – our son is okay but it did end his career in the Airforce. Now here we are in yet another August. My best friend is killed in a car accident. Fuck the month of August. Fuck every August from here on out because I’m going to be in hiding. Screw anyone who tries to make me participate in the month of August. I’m sure if I researched the month of August I would find that it was the birth month of Satan or something just as grievous that would make this disgusting month make sense.
On another note – today my friend Heather called me a Stupid Fucking Whore. Seriously? I gave that up YEARS ago!!! However, reader, she did this because I won a contest at work. So the sun can peek in at any given moment during an otherwise gray period of life. Just another piece of information to ponder and absorb. And so it continues….
Today I was able to spend a few short minutes with the B club at lunch. Such a small piece of time with people who I know can truly relate to what appears is going to be a long solid feeling of funky for the unforeseeable future. I realized yesterday that I do not want to EVER live through the month of August again. It is a cursed month in my life. Something ridiculous happens to me in the month of August year after year. Do you think I’m dramatic?? Let me give you some insight about the month of August in my life. One August 6 years ago my grandfather, sweetest most wonderful, hero of my life, was at my home and collapsed, requiring an ambulance, and passing away thereafter. It was heartbreaking for me at the time. Then there was another August later. This is when I received the phone call from my stepmother who proceeded to tell me that my father was in serious condition in the hospital and I should come right away. From that point for the next 2 months I spent every weekend with my dad who lived in another state, and who passed away two months later. It continues. Later in yet another August my husband and I were going through an extremely rough time and decided to separate. I bought another home, my best friends helped me move out. It took one of our sons being in a motorcycle accident to shake us out of that mess and clear our heads. Thankfully – our son is okay but it did end his career in the Airforce. Now here we are in yet another August. My best friend is killed in a car accident. Fuck the month of August. Fuck every August from here on out because I’m going to be in hiding. Screw anyone who tries to make me participate in the month of August. I’m sure if I researched the month of August I would find that it was the birth month of Satan or something just as grievous that would make this disgusting month make sense.
On another note – today my friend Heather called me a Stupid Fucking Whore. Seriously? I gave that up YEARS ago!!! However, reader, she did this because I won a contest at work. So the sun can peek in at any given moment during an otherwise gray period of life. Just another piece of information to ponder and absorb. And so it continues….
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
A New Day....
Today I can smile and not feel like a liar. Today I can laugh and not feel like I'm cheating on the rest of my soul. There's no explanation really. One day you're overwhelmed by life and grief and the next day you're feeling like you can take it on and be in control of it, instead of it controlling you. I admire people who are strong enough to take control from the beginning. Who don't have to remind themselves to breathe and never have to apologize for having a break down. How do they do it? Or do they just have enough control to show emotions only when they are in private? Do they have emotions at all?
Today is a "ME" day. My husband has been encouraging me to do this since her passing but I haven't been up to it. He will take care of all the responsibilities tonight - Kennedy's sports and homework and household chores. I on the other hand will be visiting the salon for hair, nails and pedicure - sprinkled with a tanning visit. A nice surprise. RELAXATION. De-stressing. Or just distractions. Either way, I woke up stronger today and am looking forward to it.
Dear Reader - don't mistake this for a sudden healing and release of grief. If you've ever dealt with a tragedy you'll understand that there are good days and there are bad ones. This just happens to be a good one for me. I'm hoping it stays a good one because you will also find that your days can intermingle and suddenly a good turns bad or the bad turns good. You won't have any warning as to whether this emotional rollercoaster you're riding is going uphill or down. You learn to just lift your hands, close your eyes, and let the waves hit you. You deal with them as best you can and then face the next wave when it chooses to come. Right now my wave is low and I'm able to stay above water.
Interesting - I've been reminded twice this week already that I am not the only one who grieves. It's everywhere. Turn to your left or turn to your right - you will find someone grieving. There's no need for the power of 6 - power of 2 will suffice I'm sure. Whether it's an illness, a poor choice, or something totally out of their control, people are grieving everywhere. Perspective. Comes in small doses and is to be pondered and absorbed. I have a friend who's son was married 2 years ago. This young man is 26 years old and his wife gave birth to their first born a few months ago. Her name is Ava. Pretty. His wife's name is Libby. They're the kind of couple that belongs in the pages of Good Housekeeping or Woman's Day. So young, so loving, and already living a life of dedication to helping others. After college he chose a job of sacrifice rather than pay. He is employed by Young Life and spends his days helping youth in every way possible. After giving birth, sweet Libby had some aches and pains that she thought were part of the deal. However, when they did not go away she decided a doctor's visit was necessary. 3 weeks later, after many tests and sleepless nights, Libby received the news that she has Stage 4 Hodgekin's Lymphoma. She is choosing to keep faith in the fact that there is still hope for survival. She is choosing to not waste this moment in her life and keeps a blog at http://libbyryder.blogspot.com if you want to read her amazing thoughts. I read them every day. Perspective. It's what keeps me and many more from drowning in self-pity. I want to be strong and amazing like Libby.
This is me and Bonnie - one of our many trips. We were smashed - someone was playing loud dance music - we made the most of the opportunity :)
These are my thoughts today on this good day. And I will continue to think these thoughts as today turns into tomorrow. Eventually, the grief will become smaller than the strength I am building. Eventually I will learn to laugh at my memories with Bonnie. Yes. This is a good day.
Today is a "ME" day. My husband has been encouraging me to do this since her passing but I haven't been up to it. He will take care of all the responsibilities tonight - Kennedy's sports and homework and household chores. I on the other hand will be visiting the salon for hair, nails and pedicure - sprinkled with a tanning visit. A nice surprise. RELAXATION. De-stressing. Or just distractions. Either way, I woke up stronger today and am looking forward to it.
Dear Reader - don't mistake this for a sudden healing and release of grief. If you've ever dealt with a tragedy you'll understand that there are good days and there are bad ones. This just happens to be a good one for me. I'm hoping it stays a good one because you will also find that your days can intermingle and suddenly a good turns bad or the bad turns good. You won't have any warning as to whether this emotional rollercoaster you're riding is going uphill or down. You learn to just lift your hands, close your eyes, and let the waves hit you. You deal with them as best you can and then face the next wave when it chooses to come. Right now my wave is low and I'm able to stay above water.
Interesting - I've been reminded twice this week already that I am not the only one who grieves. It's everywhere. Turn to your left or turn to your right - you will find someone grieving. There's no need for the power of 6 - power of 2 will suffice I'm sure. Whether it's an illness, a poor choice, or something totally out of their control, people are grieving everywhere. Perspective. Comes in small doses and is to be pondered and absorbed. I have a friend who's son was married 2 years ago. This young man is 26 years old and his wife gave birth to their first born a few months ago. Her name is Ava. Pretty. His wife's name is Libby. They're the kind of couple that belongs in the pages of Good Housekeeping or Woman's Day. So young, so loving, and already living a life of dedication to helping others. After college he chose a job of sacrifice rather than pay. He is employed by Young Life and spends his days helping youth in every way possible. After giving birth, sweet Libby had some aches and pains that she thought were part of the deal. However, when they did not go away she decided a doctor's visit was necessary. 3 weeks later, after many tests and sleepless nights, Libby received the news that she has Stage 4 Hodgekin's Lymphoma. She is choosing to keep faith in the fact that there is still hope for survival. She is choosing to not waste this moment in her life and keeps a blog at http://libbyryder.blogspot.com if you want to read her amazing thoughts. I read them every day. Perspective. It's what keeps me and many more from drowning in self-pity. I want to be strong and amazing like Libby.
This is me and Bonnie - one of our many trips. We were smashed - someone was playing loud dance music - we made the most of the opportunity :)
Monday, August 30, 2010
The Bag...
Today I cannot concentrate on ANYTHING. THIS WEEKEND SUCKED!!! My husband was sick. REALLY sick. So I had to attend the first Bitch Club outing alone. When I say "first" I don't mean first as in the very first time I got together with this awesome group of friends. I mean first as in "first outing since our dear friend Bonnie aka Vette Bitch was killed". It was wonderful and it was awful. Two of the girls that work with her were there and they had helped clean out her desk with another member of our little club. I was so thankful to hear that they had brought me some things they thought I might want to have. So thankful to receive something that I could keep with me that belonged to my dear sweet Bonnie. Here comes the awful - Aside from a couple of random items that had special meaning and were very sweet, the bag was filled with things that I had given Bonnie. It was like a punch in the gut. I started to cry and then started to feel nauseated. I hugged them all tightly and said thank you. Then set the bag by my purse until I left at which time I put it safely in my trunk. And left it there. On the way home I was trying not to sob as I was driving alone. This actually helped me stay in control and I was able to breathe and think beyond the bag. When I got home I did not retrieve it. I don't want to look at the bag. I don't want to think about the bag. Turns out that wasn't too hard because Saturday I woke up sick. Thanks hubby. I stayed in bed most of the day and couldn't think beyond trying to drink water and find something I felt would stay down if I ate it. On Saturday there was no bag. There was only sickness. Sunday came and I felt extremely exhausted but really wanted to see the sunlight. Brian helped me to the car and we went a few places, did a tiny bit of grocery shopping, and I knew it needed to get home. Brian always puts me in the car and then loads up the trunk. When we get home, he always tells me to go inside and he'll unload everything. Even when I'm well. But especially when I'm sic. For me - on Sunday there still is no bag. Yet.
I'm feeling very weak so I lay on the couch for 20 minutes and then get up to make a small dinner for me and Brian. Though I screw part of it up, it eventually turns out pretty good and we eat mustard crusted fish with parmesan broccoli and roasted dill potatoes. Sounds fancy - very easy. I eat while on the couch because I am so tired. Brian takes my plate and I snuggle up. Maybe I'll nap. No bag. No conscious thoughts. I have been successful in forgetting it.
Brian puts in a movie and tells me to fall asleep - it'll be good for me to get the rest. However, the movie is good. I'm awake. It's called "The Joneses" and actually is pretty interesting though I had never heard of it. I'll try to be discreet now but there's no avoiding the next course of events: Due to my weekend illness, I suddenly needed to use the bathroom in an urgent manner. Great. I get up - run to the guest bath on the 1st floor. I'm good. Relief. Of course I'm anal about hand washing so after I wash up I walk slowly from the bath through the kitchen back to the family room as I'm still feeling blah. I glance in the dining room and stop so suddenly it's like I ran into a clear glass wall that no one could see. There is the bag. Brian had lovingly brought it in and sat it in our formal dining room. I have to breathe even as I type this reader because I cannot express appropriately how it feels to try so very hard to forget something and then have it thrown in your face again at some random moment without any opportunity to prepare. I turn away. I start to panic and tell myself to breath. I go to the living room. I climb back under the cover on the couch and say nothing to Brian.
Fast Forward. It's time for bed. After the movie I have numbed my mind adequately with mindless television. The bag won't leave. It stays with me. Along with the knowledge that Bonnie's work voicemail is turned off. I cannot call at random moments during the day to hear her anymore. Sick as it may sound - when you lose someone so suddenly it truly is helpful to be able to hear them for a while longer. So now I cannot call to hear her anymore and there is the DAMN BAG on my dining table that I want nothing to do with. How can I feel this way? These are things that she touched, used, loved. I feel myself getting pissed. The kind of angry you feel when you want to scream and tell your family and those you love most to go to hell and leave you alone because you need a moment. I go upstairs. I lay in bed. I don't share with Brian because I don't want to cry again. I'm angry. I want to scream, not cry. As we snuggle in for the night Brian asks what I want him to set out in the morning for dinner. I absent-mindedly ask him if there was leftover fish? He says no. I say, what? NONE? He says, well I packed the leftovers for lunch. I go ballistic. Why didn't you just say that in the beginning??? What?? Are you lying to me because you're afraid I'm going to want your precious lunch for myself???? This part, reader, I am completely embarrassed about. I don't know how to explain my actions to myself much less to Brian or even to you. I lost it. I told him he was a deusch bag. I told him I didn't understand why he would "Lie to me over stupid leftovers". It got worse from there. An hour goes by and I'm literally still fighting with my husband over nothing at all. He even explains to me that he just thought I knew he would pack for his lunch like he does every day and that's all he meant. Not good enough for me. I go sit on my deck. Suddenly a light goes off. What the hell am I doing fighting with Brian when I'm angry at God.
The literal damn that has been building since Friday night breaks. I'm sobbing. I go inside and find Brian in the family room. I beg his forgiveness as I'm sobbing the truth of what's going on. I can't hardly spit out the words because I'm wailing. He grabs me and holds me and lets me sob and then sobs with me. For some reason this is comforting. I feel like because he is also crying he is understanding my pain. I tell him how angry I am. I tell him how I HATE that bag of things I gave to my friend. He says he will put it away. He says he will keep it put away until some time when I'm ready. He says he will give it back to the girls to keep if I don't ever want to see it again. He continues to hold me and we cry for a while.
Then I realize that it's now going on midnight and poor Brian has a 5:30 am wake up. I tell him to go to bed. I go sit back on the deck and sob some more. I say bad things to God then I take them all back. I know it's a pity party. I know that at some point this will ease. I keep crying. It's after midnight when suddenly Brian's by my side again holding me. "Go To Bed!!" I say. He says, "Don't want to without you. I need to make sure you're okay." After a few minutes I convince him I'm okay and tell him to please go to bed and I will be up shortly. He says okay. I think of Bonnie and all the crazy things we have done together. This is a picture of her posing in the hot tub on one of our cabin trips after a large bottle of wine drank through a straw..... that night we were soooooo sexy......
I sit on the deck alone and suddenly Ben comes home. Ben is my 20 year old son. He sees me and comes to the deck and instantly knows I'm crying and why. He hugs me tight - sits next to me and holds my hand. Listens for a while and just keeps telling me how sorry he is. I realize I'm surrounded by good men who love me. I'm so sorry I took it out on Brian. I'm fortunate in friends and in family. I'm blessed beyond measure in life and this begins to calm me. I remember to breathe. I will make it through this terrible sadness. Maybe today will be a better day. Maybe tomorrow will be worse. I will make it through. And maybe some day - and it doesn't have to be this week or next, this month or 6 from now, this year or 2012 - but some day, I'll be thankful for the bag. But today, for right now, I want to forget there is a bag. I want to forget that Bonnie isn't enjoying my silly presents from over the years. I want to forget that I am now the only Bitch in the club who likes V8 in the morning because she is gone. I want to forget the f'ing bag exists. I hate the bag.
I'm feeling very weak so I lay on the couch for 20 minutes and then get up to make a small dinner for me and Brian. Though I screw part of it up, it eventually turns out pretty good and we eat mustard crusted fish with parmesan broccoli and roasted dill potatoes. Sounds fancy - very easy. I eat while on the couch because I am so tired. Brian takes my plate and I snuggle up. Maybe I'll nap. No bag. No conscious thoughts. I have been successful in forgetting it.
Brian puts in a movie and tells me to fall asleep - it'll be good for me to get the rest. However, the movie is good. I'm awake. It's called "The Joneses" and actually is pretty interesting though I had never heard of it. I'll try to be discreet now but there's no avoiding the next course of events: Due to my weekend illness, I suddenly needed to use the bathroom in an urgent manner. Great. I get up - run to the guest bath on the 1st floor. I'm good. Relief. Of course I'm anal about hand washing so after I wash up I walk slowly from the bath through the kitchen back to the family room as I'm still feeling blah. I glance in the dining room and stop so suddenly it's like I ran into a clear glass wall that no one could see. There is the bag. Brian had lovingly brought it in and sat it in our formal dining room. I have to breathe even as I type this reader because I cannot express appropriately how it feels to try so very hard to forget something and then have it thrown in your face again at some random moment without any opportunity to prepare. I turn away. I start to panic and tell myself to breath. I go to the living room. I climb back under the cover on the couch and say nothing to Brian.
Fast Forward. It's time for bed. After the movie I have numbed my mind adequately with mindless television. The bag won't leave. It stays with me. Along with the knowledge that Bonnie's work voicemail is turned off. I cannot call at random moments during the day to hear her anymore. Sick as it may sound - when you lose someone so suddenly it truly is helpful to be able to hear them for a while longer. So now I cannot call to hear her anymore and there is the DAMN BAG on my dining table that I want nothing to do with. How can I feel this way? These are things that she touched, used, loved. I feel myself getting pissed. The kind of angry you feel when you want to scream and tell your family and those you love most to go to hell and leave you alone because you need a moment. I go upstairs. I lay in bed. I don't share with Brian because I don't want to cry again. I'm angry. I want to scream, not cry. As we snuggle in for the night Brian asks what I want him to set out in the morning for dinner. I absent-mindedly ask him if there was leftover fish? He says no. I say, what? NONE? He says, well I packed the leftovers for lunch. I go ballistic. Why didn't you just say that in the beginning??? What?? Are you lying to me because you're afraid I'm going to want your precious lunch for myself???? This part, reader, I am completely embarrassed about. I don't know how to explain my actions to myself much less to Brian or even to you. I lost it. I told him he was a deusch bag. I told him I didn't understand why he would "Lie to me over stupid leftovers". It got worse from there. An hour goes by and I'm literally still fighting with my husband over nothing at all. He even explains to me that he just thought I knew he would pack for his lunch like he does every day and that's all he meant. Not good enough for me. I go sit on my deck. Suddenly a light goes off. What the hell am I doing fighting with Brian when I'm angry at God.
The literal damn that has been building since Friday night breaks. I'm sobbing. I go inside and find Brian in the family room. I beg his forgiveness as I'm sobbing the truth of what's going on. I can't hardly spit out the words because I'm wailing. He grabs me and holds me and lets me sob and then sobs with me. For some reason this is comforting. I feel like because he is also crying he is understanding my pain. I tell him how angry I am. I tell him how I HATE that bag of things I gave to my friend. He says he will put it away. He says he will keep it put away until some time when I'm ready. He says he will give it back to the girls to keep if I don't ever want to see it again. He continues to hold me and we cry for a while.
Then I realize that it's now going on midnight and poor Brian has a 5:30 am wake up. I tell him to go to bed. I go sit back on the deck and sob some more. I say bad things to God then I take them all back. I know it's a pity party. I know that at some point this will ease. I keep crying. It's after midnight when suddenly Brian's by my side again holding me. "Go To Bed!!" I say. He says, "Don't want to without you. I need to make sure you're okay." After a few minutes I convince him I'm okay and tell him to please go to bed and I will be up shortly. He says okay. I think of Bonnie and all the crazy things we have done together. This is a picture of her posing in the hot tub on one of our cabin trips after a large bottle of wine drank through a straw..... that night we were soooooo sexy......
Friday, August 27, 2010
ENDINGS....
First: So my fear of blood work has ended for another year.....even though when I went last night to get it drawn they were open (thank God) but the phlebotomist had left already...WTH???? So I slept fitfully all night and got up this morning heading directly there. The lady smiled and chatted like I was 10 (for which I was very appreciative) and then stuck the needle clear through my vein. I yelled. Words that were not nice. She deserved it. She actually said to me...and I quote....for real....this is a direct quote....."When they said VEINS you thought they said TRAINS and passed up the offer". Seriously? Wasn't there a similar saying in the 2nd grade about BRAINS???? How about you take your 50 year old @ss back to school and re-learn how to stick somebody because apparently your 30 years of experience hasn't taught you how to WATCH WHAT YOUR DOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Second: So tonight I am getting together with the group of girls called the Bitch Club. The group that Bonnie was so very much an integral part of. We are going to go through all of our photos collectively and share extra copies and begin organizing them for albums. Personally, I am going to make a book. I cannot wait to have it finished. However, I am beginning to realize that the ending of her life is going to be a much longer grieving periods than a few weeks. It's exhausting.
Third: IT'S FRIDAY!!!! I need this week to end. What do I have going on tomorrow and Sunday. NOT ONE THING!!!!! Maybe I'll clean. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll cook or maybe I'll get takeout. Maybe I'll go shopping or maybe I'll sit my fat ass in bed all day watching movies! The possibilities are endless!!!!! One thing that you can be sure of - I will have adult beverages a plenty :)
Second: So tonight I am getting together with the group of girls called the Bitch Club. The group that Bonnie was so very much an integral part of. We are going to go through all of our photos collectively and share extra copies and begin organizing them for albums. Personally, I am going to make a book. I cannot wait to have it finished. However, I am beginning to realize that the ending of her life is going to be a much longer grieving periods than a few weeks. It's exhausting.
Third: IT'S FRIDAY!!!! I need this week to end. What do I have going on tomorrow and Sunday. NOT ONE THING!!!!! Maybe I'll clean. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll cook or maybe I'll get takeout. Maybe I'll go shopping or maybe I'll sit my fat ass in bed all day watching movies! The possibilities are endless!!!!! One thing that you can be sure of - I will have adult beverages a plenty :)
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Another day of fear.....
So yesterday I waited through the entire day full of fear with regards to my blood work. I know that everyone is waiting anxiously to hear what happened. I'll tell you. I drive all the way to Mt. Zion Rd (because the lab is conveniently located 2 miles from my house) and as I'm getting closer my heart starts pounding. Kinda like I just ran four miles...HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! Dear Reader - certainly you don't believe I know what it's like to run four miles do you??? I don't. Anyway, my heart is pounding like I'm the only one home and I heard a door creak somewhere in the dark - yeah - that's better - I know how that feels. I make it to the parking lot and pull in but something looks funny - there's only 2 cars here. Hmmm....must be a slow day. My doctor told me she was "sure" they were open until 6:30 in the evening. I walk up to the front door on legs that are wobbling just like a weeble - you know - weebles wobble but they don't fall down? - I make it. What do I see? Etched carefully in the glass door are the business hours. Alas - they ARE opened until 6:30 pm every day. Every day except TO-F'N-DAY!!!! So I pretended to be totally pissed off all the way down the 2 miles to my house because I had driven soooooooooooo far out of my way on the ONE day they close early. Secretly, my heart rejoiced. I felt like a young girl again dancing and skipping across an open field of daisies.....because I know what that feels like too......yeah.... Anyway, I wake up this morning at 5:45am. What is the first thing I think of??? CRAP! Today I have to get blood work done. The trembling has already begun.
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