Happy Thanksgiving

In spite of a mind that is not at rest and a heart that is broken still...for the love that I've lost, for the friend stepping on stars, for my son that is out of reach and family that is so far away. For all the injustices in the world, for all the hatred and destruction and too for the fear in their eyes.

In spite of it all and because of it all I am thankful.

I'm thankful for this roof over my head and the heat rising up from the radiators.

I am thankful for the clothes on my back and the running water that keeps them clean.

I am thankful for my pets who I love and love me in return.

I am thankful for my daughter who I worry about relentlessly and I'm thankful she is here to worry about. I'm thankful for the smile on her face that wipes the worry away if only for a moment.

I'm thankful for the friends I call family and the moments they choose to spend with me. And I'm thankful for the friends that I don't see or hear from often, I still hold them dear.

I'm thankful for the food inside of my fridge when so many go without.

I am thankful too for who I am, I'm good and kind and giving when so many are not and there but for the grace of God...

So you see, in spite of the pain and sadness inside my heart I am so very thankful for all that I have been given.

Happy Thanksgiving my David.  Happy Thanksgiving dear Evelyn.  And Happy Thanksgiving Mrs. C, I hope you are safe and sound and in good company.

Peace

Would Be 51

Happy Birthday my love.

Is that how you say it anymore?  After someone has died...Happy Birthday?!?  Should it be 'Happy Almost Birthday'?  or 'Happy Birthday that Wasn't'? or...oh who the fuck knows, truthfully I think all protocol was flushed down the commode when you took your last breath, the one that whispered loudly 'get out now'.

Your first 'after' birthday I cooked a meal you loved with drinks and dessert included.  Two of the kids were here with me and they just looked at me with pity written all over their faces and pretended it was just another meal and that I hadn't plunged off the deep end. I celebrated alone.

The second 'after' birthday I, along with all your friends and family, was invited to join your mom and sisters at a favorite restaurant of yours. To celebrate with dinner and drinks and shared memories. Boy this was a tough one to face, since you left I don't do well with being in public.  However, I arrived early to find no one else had come except the invitees and they had already finished eating.  Awkward. The smile I had pasted on my face before leaving the house remained as I ordered Margaritas and laughed and cried with your family. The women of your life were in so much pain yet trying to be brave and fake our way through.  Doing what appears to be normal yet felt anything but...

So this third 'after' birthday.  Well, it's just me.  The kids have made themselves scarce in my life.  And your family is no longer mine, we tried, for a good while anyway, but without you we just couldn't keep it up. I am sorry about that and I hope you understand. If they said I need you I would drop everything and run to them, always, for you.  But the rest we let go.

So, yeah, just me here and really, all I can do is talk to you in my head like I do every day and say Happy Day to you. Tell you I love you (again) and that I miss you (still) and wonder where the hell you are.

Happy Birthday my love...I miss you and I love you <3

49

I had a birthday.

Another one you were not here for. The third one actually.

I am 49.  An age you never saw for yourself. One age before the big one...50.

You were dreading getting older, you spoke of it often in the months before you died. I could tell you were going to be one of those people who got depressed over the progression of time. You were a sensitive and troubled soul.

You told me often you were going to die young. It wasn't until after the third or so time that I started to take notice for real. For me it was hurtful. Why would you keep telling me such a thing after I just found you again and committed the rest of my life to you. It's not like you were gently trying to warn me of what to expect in the near future.  It was more like 'woe is me...I'm not long for this world'.  Once I yelled at you about it.  Remember?

I had finally had enough of hearing it.  "Would you please stop saying that?  You say it all the time, too much actually. Are you trying to hurt my feelings?  Because that is what you are doing every time you say that.  It would kill me if it happened okay?  So just stop saying it".  Then I left the room and stood at the sink and washed a few glasses.  You came up behind me and hugged me for dear life and said "I'm sorry".  That was it. End of conversation.

And then you did. You freaking fracking frocking did. Just wow.

So now I am 49, which you never were, and I have been dreaming for a week of everyone dying. I never dream but now I am and it's only of death.

Happy Birthday to me!

How Interesting Is That

I wonder what it means when I sit down to write and there are no words in my head to write.  I've got nothing! I'm staring out the window waiting for words to just pour out. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting

Oh, there are words. It's not like there's dust and cobwebs taking up space in my brain, at least I don't think there is.  It's just that if I wrote what comes to mind it would look like this.

David. David. David. Evelyn. Evelyn. David. Dead. Gone. Cry. Cry. Pain. Cry. Tired. Broken. Cry. Tired. David. Evelyn etc. etc. etc.

So you see, how interesting is that?  Not very.  In fact it is kind of pathetic and sad.  Welcome to my world.

It's been 2 1/2 years today.  I don't know how that is even possible...it just happened. Didn't it? It is the most indescribable phenomenon. If I stop and think and count it adds up to what I just said, 2 1/2 years. But just in general, every day time, it was only last month. AT THE VERY MOST.  And each day is just a replay of that one day. It used to overwhelm me and stop me in my tracks. I spent the first year and a half learning how to breathe again because from the moment I climbed out of that 'well' it was different.  My body no longer did it automatically.  I still struggle with that, the breathing thing, from time to time, but I would say I've gotten back to 85/90 percent. 

I still cry just about every time I am in the car.  No idea why, it comes on so suddenly and my heart breaks all over again. There is no escape. Ever.

My scars are real. I see them when I look in a mirror, It's like a road map is looking back at me. I wonder ALL THE TIME what David would think of this me. He used to love me so much and think I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I look at my reflection and think he wouldn't know me or want me. It's okay, it is what it is.

Anyway...that's all I've got.