Diary of a Mad Chick

HELP!!!

2012-03-19T17:13:00.000-07:00

Of course I need help. I scream for help, I post quotes about it and songs about it. No one comes. I don't have the time or the state of mind to call people individually and ask. It is known that my Dad died, that I am an only child, that Mom isn't well and she doesn't drive. It is known that I am doing everything by myself. EVERYTHING.

People say that I'm not alone, that they are "here" for me. Well, I need people to bring or send food (not sweets) so Mom has things to eat during the week while I'm at work. I need people to show up on Monday nights when I am cleaning out the garage and lend me a hand. There are things to heavy for me to carry alone. Maybe someone could offer to take some of the old paint and chemicals to the trash dump for me.

Why are people waiting to be asked? Haven't I been upfront and clear about what I'm doing and what's needed here?

Maybe someone could offer to spend some time with Mom on the weekends so I can out go out for a bit...or just come visit so we have some life around here.

I wrote a post a few days ago speaking of past events which caused me to feel resentment. I am working through all of my demons, but make no mistake, I LOVE MY MOM, and I will do what it takes to help her though this.

I realize now, that the way I deal with painful things, is that I don't. I push it deep inside, so that I can get on with "getting on and taking care of things." Dad taught me to just "keep moving." Mom is dealing with this the only way she can...sadness, tears and depression. She is also in a lot of physical pain.

Sometimes it seems that the people closest to me have let me down the most, while people I don't expect to even give me a second thought, do.

I feel very close to the edge of losing it, and I don't know how much more I can take. But I won't go down without a fight.

I would give everything up if Dad could come back. And I would give up my own life if need be, for Dad to be back here with Mom. I prayed EVERY day that Dad would get better, and he didn't. I feel no connection to God now. And if he does exist, and is the loving God I always thought, then He would understand that.

I used to see magic and beauty in everything. I don't now. The stars are just balls of gas, clouds don't make images, the moon is just a ball of rock. When I paint, it's from a memory of thoughts and feelings that once where. I can't even write poetry anymore.

Not asking anyone to give me all their time and attention. Just a little help.

Feeling guilty....

2012-03-17T19:01:00.001-07:00

I'm feeling guilty about writing the post below. I shared too much. Should have kept it private, but it's out there now. I love Mom and Dad deeply. I wouldn't be who I am today without them. And they loved me. But they are human and had their own issues. My Mom suffers from anxiety and depression, and it's been that way most of my life. Mom misses Dad so much that she wishes she died with him. She told me that today. I have to find a way to work through all of this. Find a way to help her and myself and lose this resentment. Mom looks so frail and weak, and I want to protect her and make things better for her, but I don't know how.

The past resurfaced

2012-03-17T05:14:00.001-07:00

All the old resentment is coming back. I thought I had gotten past it, pushed it down deep enough, but it's working its way back up.

As she lays in bed, empty pill bottles beside her, I can feel the scream in my throat. I don't let it out. Still fighting a natural reaction after all these years.

My early childhood was wonderful, amazing. I was surrounded with love and loved everyone and everything. Dad was a huge part of that. Even though he worked a few jobs trying to save up for a house for us, he always found time for me. To spend with me, teach me, show me the world.

Then in my pre-pubescent years, things changed. I started to realize that Mom was "different". I didn't know then about all the medications and doctors, it was well hidden from me. But my relationship with her became strained. I had to start caring for her. Would come home from school and she would be in bed. I would make her a pot of tea, and heat up some beans for myself, or eat bits of lunch meat. Then Dad would come home. There would be fights, loud and angry. I would hide in my room but many times I got caught in the middle.

Because of Mom's "condition", I wasn't allowed to do much outside of the house, and friends weren't allowed over.

I tried to kill myself a few days before 8th grade graduation. Swallowed an entire bottle of pills. They saved me in the emergency room.

My parents drinking became very heavy as I started high school. Mom was drunk most of the time and Dad would join her at night. More fighting, falling, injuries. I tried to kill myself again in Freshman year, but Dad stopped me before I cut myself deeply enough.

I was smacked around, and degraded a lot of the time. I barely fought back because I didn't want to hurt her.

I started to get out more with friends, drinking, getting high, having sex with any guy. It seemed fun at the time, but I know now it was a reaction to my home life. Started working when I was 16, and I was still getting good grades, although I didn't really care about school or my future. I fell through the cracks. I didn't really have any support at home.

Then Mom went into a private treatment facility, and I learned the truth about a lot of things. When she got out of there, things did get better. I had a Mom again, even though it was a shock because she was trying to be "super Mom" to make up for lost time.

I had to keep all of this from the outside because it was drilled into me at a young age that things were to be kept private. My friends knew things weren't right, but they didn't know the extent of it.

My late teens I became involved in a serious relationship, I stopped partying, was working full time, then went to college. My parents relationship was better. Things were good.

I had opportunities to leave the area, go to NY or LA to work in publishing and promotions, but the sense of responsibility to my family had been drilled into me from such a young age, it was easy for them to convince me not to go.

My parents drinking started again in my 20s although then it was more a Saturday night party type event. And I would stay at my boyfriend's house for the weekend. One night when I wasn't home, Mom fell down the steps and broke her ribs. I still feel guilty that I wasn't there to help.

Eventually that stopped too, and life settled into a better routine. My parents moved into a new house and I lived alone for five years. Life started to feel good. But after a terrible breakup, I moved in with my parents. Shortly after that my Gram died, and I had to care for my Pop, all the while dealing with my alcoholic uncle that lived with them. During this time, I was also going through some really tough medical issues, eventually resulting in a hysterectomy to save my life. Thne Pop died in 2002.

A large chunk of Mom died when her parents did. She hasn't been the same since. And now with Dad gone too, she really is just a shell. A shell that I have to take care of.

I love my Mom, and she isn't a monster. I don't want it to sound that way. Just a very troubled and weak person who needs chemicals to cope. But I resent it. I resent that I have had to give up so much, do so much that should never have been my responsibility, walk away from opportunities, and now, when I am trying to deal with my own loss and grief and find my own way forward, I am once again pulled back into this situation where her needs trump mine. And Dad, who was always my buffer, isn't here to help.

So another weekend, where I clean and go to the food store and take care of things, while Mom lays in bed. I can't, and won't, leave her. I'll paint and write and dream of that little bungalow in California...

I just needed to write some of this today, to get it out of my head. It's not a complete description, and it's not to condemn my Mom. Just trying to work though it all, and maybe give you a more complete picture of who I am and what's going on.

Today is the 12th anniversary of my Gram's death, and tomorrow it will be three months since Dad died. I am missing a friend's wedding today, and another friend's band's show. Going to be a long, sad weekend.

Alone in a sea of people...

2012-03-15T16:36:00.000-07:00

I think I've always felt that way. Considered myself a misfit...didn't belong to any group. Probably because my parents were young and I was an only child, always around adults. So while I had no problem making friends because I'm outgoing, I never really fit. My parents were "free thinkers" and that's how they raised me. So I didn't quite see the world the same way as my peers. And it's always been that way.

The one person who really understood me, as much as anyone could, is gone. When I re-read that note he wrote about me....even as a child he saw my spirit, and saw that it was bent. Pretty amazing.

My friends, even my close ones, don't really know me, or what my life has been like. They know bits and pieces. I on the other hand, have always been an observant sponge...I suck up all the information about people. What they say, and don't say. Their patterns and behaviors. Guess that's part of my weirdness.

And I've always been giving. Too much I've been told. But lately, yes, I've been selfish. It's just that I don't have much to give outside of this grief, and things to take care of, and Mom. It's not that I don't care about people...I do, deeply. I'm just not showing it, or doing things like I always did.

Mom has been in bed for three days now. And that affects me. When Mom is okay, I function better. Sometimes I feel manic-depressive. There's no middle ground. I'm either laughing like a madman, or crying.

And I want out of here. To run. Not away...because really, away from what? No, I want to run to. Start over somewhere far away. A chance maybe for some happiness. Maybe meet some like minded people, or learn new things. I've settled on California. Even if I wind up alone, at least it will be in a better climate. Of course, it will take awhile for that to happen, but right now, I wish it could be tomorrow.

Another note from Dad

2012-03-12T17:13:00.000-07:00

Tonight while continuing my garage cleaning...cleaning out all the accumulated junk that my "pack rat" Dad had kept, in a random bag in a random box...I found this note sticking out.

I started sobbing as soon as I read it. Tears of love, joy and loss. I was so lucky to have this man as my father, and I was so loved by him. I know that he left it there for me to find, to remind me of that love and how he saw me, and to never stop being me.

If you click on the letter, you can see a larger version.

So Lori, what do you want to be now that you have to grow up?

2012-03-11T16:29:00.002-07:00

Mom asked me today what my "dream" is, what do I want to do with the rest of my life...

I've had a few aspirations in my life. When I was very young I wanted to be a rock star. Three years of piano, assorted voice lessons, school choir....I could have gone further, but gave it up in high school. In my 20s, I wanted to found my own magazine...fashion, beauty, etc. The publishing market went downhill, so let that dream go.

I never wanted to be rich. Didn't want fancy things and a big house. Never had the "wedding" dream. In fact, I never cared about getting married. I did want to have a child, but that dream was taken from me.

Lately, over the last few years, a new aspiration has developed. So the answer to Mom's question...

I want to have a little boutique, just one, where I sell a few fabulous frocks, some beautiful pots of makeup, some books, a few trinkets, and my paintings. I want it to be a bit of assorted things, just like the boutiques I remember Mom taking me to and working in during the 70s. Would be even better if there was a small apartment upstairs where I could live.

People could drift in and out, we'd make small talk on little and big subjects. And I would have time to paint and write.

I have a background in promotion, been around fashion my whole life. I spent ten years in property management and nothing trains you how to deal with people better than when you are handling where they live. And I was good at it. I also worked in retail, and grew up in a boutique that my parents friend's owned and where Mom worked.

Thinking about all of that, and the events of the last few years...it's almost as though I'm on the path I should be on leading to where I'm supposed to be. Now how about that!

Another Lonely Night

2012-03-09T17:53:00.001-08:00

Sometimes the loneliness is so difficult to fight. Like tonight. I made it through the work week, only to come home and find Mom is such a down and confused state. Her grief is more than I can handle alone, but she's an adult, and I can't force her to do anything. She says she's trying, that she wants to try so all this burden isn't on me, but I just see her sliding down a deep hole and I can't bring her up.

I know having people around would at least lift her spirits for awhile. If I could find some activity for her to involve herself in...if she felt well enough to get out of the house...there might be some improvement.

As for me, I try to push forward...mostly by swallowing all my feelings about Dad's death and this new way of life that I never wanted. It's what works for me, always has. "Sweep it under the rug and go on", and eventually you wake up one morning, and things seems easier.

I can't leave her alone like this, so I still stick close to home most of the time. I wish my friends would visit more. Two of them have, and it's welcome relief.

I guess the fact that I'm not in a relationship is my own fault. Made some wrong choices but also don't want to be with someone just to be with someone. But it's lonely. I wish there was someone to hold me, to laugh with, to help ease my mind.

Just rambling tonight. A bunch of disconnected thoughts. A lonely heart and a troubled mind.

A now for something completely different

2012-03-09T04:25:00.000-08:00

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Today's rebel leader becomes tomorrow's tyrant. Hitler, Castro and Hussein came to power with the support of the people to overthrow the corrupt regime that was in power. Osmam bin Laden was trained and supported by the US Government because they wanted to use him to get Russia out of Afghanistan.

Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. That is the story of human exitence since the beginning of time.

The truth is out there is you really want to find it. It's not even that difficult with all the new technology.

If we as humans really wanted peace, we would have it. But we want "things". We want power. We want what someone else has. (I am paraphrasing John Lennon here.)

All politicians are corrupt or will become so. Even those that start out with high ideals. It happens because the system is corrupt, and they get sucked into it.

The best that caring, thinking people can do is take care of their own. Not just their own family and friends, but the others that they come in contact with each day. Be kind. Be helpful. Do not sit idly by when wrongs are done in front of you that you CAN do something about.

If we all did that, throughout the world, it would be a better place.

Tired

2012-03-07T16:48:00.003-08:00

My sleep pattern has changed. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, and I sleep so deeply that it concerns me. Would I wake up if I heard a noise? Would I be able to protect my Mom? When the alarm goes off, I have trouble rousing myself and find out that I've hit the snooze button without realizing it.

I used to be the "jump out of bed and get on with the day type"

Still manage to get things done, but there's no passion in anything I'm doing. Even if it's something I usually enjoy. There are things that give me a moments pleasure. Then the moment is over.

Today was a beauty...warm and sunny. While I was driving to the bank on my lunch break, I became very sad. Dad isn't here to enjoy this day. The sadness is still with me. And I am very tired.

Not from exertion, or not enough sleep. A deep, mental and spiritual tiredness.

I've been so supported throughout this journey, so many wonderful people. I hope that when the time comes, if they ever need me, I can be there for them. Right now, I know I can't. I'm barely there for myself. Mom and this house are the priority. Even though I can't give much of myself to those people now, they are in my heart. I hold them dear.

Decided to print my blog, and in the near future, edit it and publish a book on grief. Planning on using my art as illustrations. It's planned, in my head, but I don't know when I'll work on it.

Right now I'm waiting for a friend to stop over. I always enjoy seeing him, but again, the tiredness has me down.

I miss Dad so much.

Another Sunday

2012-03-04T06:04:00.000-08:00

Sundays are hard. It's always been sort of a sad day, but Dad died on a Sunday morning, so that makes it even sadder.

I burned my first "Dad" cd today. Took me awhile because just the thought of it brought me to tears. And there were tears this morning, but only when I downloaded Danny's Song by Kenny Loggins. Like I have always said, if there was one thing that bonded Dad and I, it was music. So it's a bittersweet thing.

Mom and I are going to lunch today with a couple of my aunts. Dad's sister and sister-in-law. Mom hasn't been out for anything social (if you can call it that) since Dad's service. She's very stressed out about it, but I keep telling her, it's only lunch!

I got the second part of my tattoo yesterday, my tribute to Dad and I

The flower is me...the "flower child product of a mod and a rocker" and the butterfly is change. It also means "Spring is a New Beginning" which is the title of a book and a doll that Dad bought for me when I was little.

So that's it for now. Another Sunday.

Just an update...

2012-03-01T16:59:00.000-08:00

Mom has been pretty good for the last few days, and that makes this all so much easier. She's been saying that when the weather gets nicer, she'd like to go for a walk with me. That seems small, but it's huge progress! We are going out to lunch with my aunts on Sunday, another huge step.

I got a new tattoo today. A shooting star. For me and Dad.

I've laughed a lot more in the past few days. I think my appetite for real food is coming back too. Which means I have to start stepping up the workouts again too.

Even had a sex dream the other night! Strange, because in my waking moments it isn't even a thought these days. But the dream was warm and pleasant, and I felt good when I woke up. The dream was about a good friend. I'll never tell him...but I almost want to thank him!

Davy Jones died yesterday. He was the same age as Dad. My thoughts are with his daughters. I always loved The Monkees, and never stopped listening to their music. I remember being in my playpen watching the show, while also watching out the window while Dad ran for the bus to go to work. Peter Tork was always my favorite. Probably because he reminded me of Dad.

I try to keep as busy as possible during the day but, in the quiet moments, I miss my Dad more than anything.

I think I miss Dad the most when I listen to music from the 60s, or see anything that reminds me of that time. That's where I come from, and Dad knew how much all that meant to me. I don't share that with anyone else but Mom now.

Still trying to accept the changes in me...figure this all out. I'm looking at the past few years of my life differently now, and seeing that I'm not that person. But there have been some really good moments, and some really good friendships as well. Unfortunately there was also a lot of heartache and drama that I never wanted or needed. Time to put that behind me.

I still can't really talk to Dad, although I know he's around. I've had lots of signs of that. And I don't really feel any relationship to God, or heaven or anything spiritual at all. I'm hoping that comes back. I also can't deal yet with the last 24 hours of Dad's life and the events that occurred. It's too painful, so I've blocked it out. I'll have to deal with it sometime, when I'm stronger.

A Good Day

2012-02-28T14:35:00.000-08:00

Today turned out to be a good day. Mom's doctor appointment went well. He gave her some new medicine to helpfully ease the flood of emotions that have incapacitated her. Everything went smoothly. When Mom is able to function, I'm much more capable of handling this.

I've always considered myself a person of peace and love, but because my emotions have been so raw, I've been quick to temper and to judge, and be very defensive. So I decided to make peace with a few issues and a few people. To reach out. I did, and it worked out well.

Last Note

2012-02-28T14:29:00.000-08:00

Dad left notes for me a lot. Usually I'd find them when I came into the kitchen to get my morning coffee. This is the last note he ever left for me. He wrote it a few weeks before he died. When I read it, I choked back tears. Something in me knew that he wanted to go out with me one last time. He was really weak from the infection, had lost a lot of weight. I hung the note on my bulletin board, where it stayed until today. I finally took it down and put it in my writing book.

We never made it out for the day.

Realness

2012-02-27T17:11:00.001-08:00

Started cleaing the gargage out tonight. Little by little, each night before trash collection. Junk to me, but things Dad wanted to keep. We argued about a lot of the stuff. Well, not argued...I nagged him a little, joked mostly. Always told him I knew he'd leave the mess for me to clean out after he died. And he did. Jokes on me, right? Piled some things by the curb, then watched the scrappers and trash pickers cart pieces of Dad away. Sadness.

Mom has been in bed most of the day. The pain, loss and separation from Dad is too much for her to bear. She called me at work today, and I asked if she needed anything. She asked if I could bring Dad home with me. So...tears.

My parents had each other, always. There wasn't need for anyone else. It's a beautiful love to see when both are there. But take one away, and the other is lost. Especially Mom. Not that their relationship was perfect. Each had their own issues. There were fights...lots of them. But love...always. A true connection.

I can't fill that space for her. Nothing can.

A lot of the time, I don't know what I'm doing. There's no guide book for this. And the one person who always guided me, is gone. Sometimes, it doesn't seem real, that he's gone. But he is, and he's never coming back. I can't fully accept that because...I just can't. It's too devastating and I have to hold on for Mom. She needs me.

Still hurting from what so-called friends have done to me. Hard to shake. But then at moments like this, when I feel so very alone in this house...all I want to say to them is 'Fuck you, I don't need you anyway. I was fine before you walked into my life. You're not here helping me anyway."

And that was my day.

A Little Explaining...

2012-02-26T05:14:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I just need to blurt out the way I'm feeling at a particular moment. I don't want to call anyone and get into a conversation, and I might not be near my computer to write something here. So I just post a status on Facebook. Something is in me and I need to get it out, and that's all it is.

This situation I am in is incredibly difficult. I am grieving the sudden loss of the most important person in my life who was far too young to die. I am now responsible for a house and all of my parent's financial obligations. I am also responsible for Mom...helping her, driving her places. All while trying to maintain some normalcy in my own life...work, my own financial responsibilities...basic grooming and health.

Some people have suggested grief counseling, and I want to address that. My grief doesn't need counseling. It's a natural reaction to what I have lost. And honestly, considering the circumstances, I am functioning pretty damn well. I don't need medication either. I have been through counseling before, and have used medications before too, briefly. I have been through deep grief before as well. Psychology was my minor in college and I considered it for a career at one time. I have always been a reader, and have read countless volumes on all sorts of 'self-help" and psychological issues.

A counselor told me once, "you don't need to be here, you know all the answers, you just need to put them into practice."

Most people who see what I am going through now, my reactions and feelings, don't know what else I have gone through and come through in my life. I'm too tired to explain all that. But I assure you, I have come through many rough circumstances, and I will with this. I won't be the person I was before, things change, but I will get to the other side...eventually.

As for Mom, I'm on top of it, every moment. Her loss is so all-consuming. It will take her a very long time. It's only been two months. Again, grief counseling isn't going to touch this, or help it. She has me, her doctor is treating her, and time is the most important element. I can't, won't, just walk away from her and "go on."

People want to help. And if there was some tangible thing that I needed help with, I would, and have, asked. The prayers and positive energy...the fact that people "think" of me and Mom...that is more than enough.

Lunch and dinner invitations pour in, but I don't really have much of an appetite, or a lot of time. And I don't think it's fair to Mom to just skip out on her. Eventually I will start going out again, but not yet.

I am not strong enough emotionally yet to attend most social occasions...weddings, parties, etc. I went to my friend's band's show for 2 hours. Yes, I did enjoy it to a point, but I also cried. At the last minute I almost didn't go, but pushed myself. I need to get a thicker skin when people make comments that hurt me, but I am vulnerable right now to everything, so I just take it all in, and get more upset. I am blessed by the goodness of so many people, I shouldn't let a few people get to me and bring me down. I need to work on that.

There have been moments where I really feel that it would just be easier to die...only if Mom and Yoko went with me. I won't do it...I won't leave Mom alone...but the thought it there at times. And that again is natural. It is a fight to keep going, keep trying...but I do it.

I know that things could be worse, that other people are going through very rough times. I ache for my friends that are suffering and send them as much love as I have to give. But for me, at this moment, this is the "worst." Only twice in my life have I ever thought of myself as being selfish. When my Gram died in 2000, and now. It's very hard to see past this and my own pain. Only now, I have put Mom's life and feelings above my own. And even now, I still care about others, I just don't have as much of myself to give to them.

I need to eat, I need to buy some new clothes, I need to socialize, I need people to come visit us...bring some life back into this house, I need a lot of things....but mostly I need time to allow those things to come back into my life. For now, I have this blog, my painting, and the good hearts and intentions of so many people.

Pushing and Falling

2012-02-25T16:05:00.003-08:00

I keep pushing myself, trying to move forward, and then something happens and it knocks me back. If Mom isn't doing well, it brings me down, because I can't just walk away from here...leaving her to be alone with this. If someone does something to hurt my feelings, that also puts me back quite a few steps.

Last night, I really felt the darkness enclosing me. I wasn't able to do anything. Just sit and stare...and think.

I pushed myself today, and Mom a bit too, to try to regain some...something. We watched some old Monkees shows, and I started a painting.

Feeling a little better than last night but far from saying that I've beat it.

...

2012-02-24T15:21:00.002-08:00

I can't write. The words don't want to come out. Nothing to paint. Paralyzed.

WTF???

2012-02-21T17:17:00.000-08:00

The Diagnostic Statistic Manual IV now classifies grief lasting over two months as clinical depression. This is the standard guide that all medical professional use to diagnose mental illness.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I had an episode over the last 24 hours where I could not stop crying. I am feeling the loss of my Dad so deeply that it made me physically ill and unable to function. It bothered me because it seemed to come out of nowhere. But it IS grief.

My Dad deserves these emotions. My loss deserves these emotions. He was my father, my best friend, my mentor, my guide, my care giver, my everything for 45 1/2 years.

And I'm only "allowed" two months to grieve him???

My entire life has changed. I am taking care of my Mom, and a house, and everything else, and I am without the most important person in my life. And I'm supposed to be over this now?

I'm certain the medical professionals want me to take a pill to make me feel better. The drug companies make a fortune on just that premise.

I don't want to "feel" better. I want Dad back, I want my life back, I want Mom to be okay. I need to grieve the loss of all of that, in order to heal and become whole again...get to the other side of this. The only way out is through.

This society has become so afraid of emotions. That scares me.

Where would art, music and writing be without emotions? Without passion and grief? You can only appreciate the light when you've known the dark.

I know what clinical depression is, and I realize that therapy and medications have helped many people (some I am very close to) deal with this disorder. I have used anti-depressants myself previously to deal with rage during the time after my Grandmother's death.

But what I am going through now does not need a pill dammit. I need time. I need hugs. I need to cry and I need love.

More Tears

2012-02-21T04:20:00.000-08:00

Some nights...some days, are so much harder than others. And it amazes me that the human body can keep producing so many damn tears.

I cried all night. I ached all over. Had to take something to knock myself out, which it did, but woke up crying again.

There is such a huge black hole, and emptiness. Nothing will ever fill it, and it would be so easy to just let myself fall into that hole. I want to, but I still manage to stop myself. Too many responsibilites to let myself go.

Didn't want to come to work today, with my swollen face and eyes, and tears. But here I am. Hoping it will be a distraction.

I don't know if a lot of the people alround me realize what I have lost. Everyone has a different relationship with their parents, and I'm not certain, even though I have tried to explain, that they understand the depth and breadth of my loss. But I do know. I know it.

And I think, now that the big things are taken care of, and that I have done most of what I can for Mom, I am really starting to feel it. All of it.

Last night, I tried to work on my drawing...practice the things that Dad always tried to teach me. As I sat at the same table I used to with Dad, it was all just too sad. Crying over my sketch pad, remembering all the time I spent there with him, doing the same thing...

Reality Bites

2012-02-20T15:30:00.000-08:00

He's never coming back
He's never coming back
He's never coming back
He's never coming back...

Back in the 70s, when I was a child, the dinner music in my house consisted of Bread, Tim Moore and Jim Croce. I loved those songs then and still do. Today, I read that one of my favorite songs by Bread, which I thought was about a lost love, was actually written by David Gates about his father. It took on a whole new meaning, and it's says all that I feel.

Everything I Own--David Gates (Bread)

You sheltered me from harm.
Kept me warm, kept me warm
You gave my life to me
Set me free, Set me free
The finest years I ever knew
were all the years I had with you

I would give anything I own,
Give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own,
just to have you back again.

You taught me how to love,
What its of, what its of.
You never said too much,
but still you showed the way,
and I knew from watching you.
Nobody else could ever know
the part of me that can't let go.

I would give anything I own,
Give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own
Just to have you back again.

Is there someone you know,
you're loving them so,
but taking them all for granted.
You may lose them one day,
someone takes them away,
and they don't hear the words you long to say

I would give anything I own,
Give up my life, my heart, my home.
I would give everything I own
Just to have you back again.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

2012-02-19T04:36:00.000-08:00

My Dad died two months ago, on a Sunday morning, and while on the outside, the routine of my life "looks" the same, it isn't.

The business end of this is done. All affairs are in order. Car is gone, accounts settled, etc.

I went out on Friday night for the first time in months, to see a friend's band play. The few hours I was out were better than expected. I enjoyed myself and really felt surrounded by love and concern. Mom handled it mostly well, although she made some comments before I left...just to let me know that she was nervous. I'm all she has and she doesn't want anything to happen to me.

Which leads me to what I want to write about. My "new life" and being misunderstood.

Depression started to sink in yesterday. "Hello darkness my old friend..." It really started to hit me what my life is like now. I love my Mom, but I am also responsible for her now in ways I wasn't before..and the resentment of that is creeping in. She doesn't drive, didn't handle any of the paperwork, doesn't cook. Dad and I always did those things. Mom keeps telling me I don't have to do everything in one day....like the running around I did yesterday to get everything she and I needed for the week. But I do have to. Dad isn't here. I have to maintain this house.

Mom kept saying yesterday that "we need to go away because we need a change of scenery". That means that I would have to make all the plans, find somewhere she would be comfortable, can smoke and bring my dog. I'd have to use vacation time that I really need to save to take her to appointments, because she only wants to go out in the daytime. Mom is very particular, and we've always worked around that.

So this is my new life. I have an adult to take care of, be responsible for, and be mindful of...and a very picky and demanding one at that. I won't, can't, abandon her...it isn't me to do that. I have sacrificed a lot of opportunities in my life for my family. It's who I am. BUT, that doesn't mean I don't resent it at times, or slip into depression about it.

I have been misunderstood most of my life, by the people close to me, or around me. I don't fit anyone's idea of who or what I should be, or how I 'should" live my life. I don't have a problem with that....I know who I am, how I feel, what I want...but it has become a problem now mostly in regard to one relationship.

I've always had a lot of male friends. I enjoy the dynamic of those relationships. And while there may be flirting, I don't want to have sex with all of them, or have a romantic relationship with them. Even when I am "in love" with someone (and that has only been a few times in my life, even though I have had many "romantic" relationships) I'm not demanding due to only that.

Maybe that's difficult for people to understand because it's not how THEY are. The women around me think that if I flirt with someone, I must want to be their "girlfriend" and that isn't true. I just enjoy the flirting. Right now, especially, I can't let myself get involved with anyone...so I take the warmth and closeness from my male friends and that's enough.

The last person I fell in love with, couldn't deal with it because he didn't want to have a romantic relationship with me so he walked out of my life. We have everything in common, even the weird obscure things...the way we see life. I love his mind, how it works...his spirit, his soul. The part of himself that he shows to me, not his "social persona". We were close, very close, and it was a wonderful friendship. But he thinks my love means demands, so he can't deal. And I miss the closeness with him terribly. Especially now that Dad is gone, because he was the only other male in my life that I had that "mind & soul" connection with.

I have always had a "live and let live" mentality, and have never tried to impose "shoulds" on others. But it's constantly done to me. Really wish people would get past their own ideas and really get to know ME. But then again, because of the fact that I see and do things differently and have suffered due to that, I have walls up and don't let many people get close. I am outgoing and talk a lot which leads people to believe they "know" me, but there is a lot I keep inside, and only a few people have gotten close enough to see that part of me.

So now, it's on to the part where I try to re-build a life. Somehow make peace with my new position, find a way to accept my responsibilities without resentment, and maybe someone will come along that I can open up to, who will be there for me and help me along this path.

My paintings since Dad died...

2012-02-14T16:22:00.001-08:00

Valentine's

2012-02-14T04:55:00.000-08:00

Dad always did something for me for Valentine's Day. Every year, my whole life. Sometimes a record album (Heart and KISS were some of them), sometimes a hand painted card or a poem. He always did something for Mom too. Everything he did had meaning, and we knew it. he did it with love and from love.

Anytime my heart was broken, or someone hurt me, my Dad was always there, making me feel better about myself. If a guy broke my heart, it was Dad who would write a poem and leave it for me to find.

So there was nothing today. No card, no poem, no note left for me to find in the kitchen when I came in to get my coffee.

I was really upset last night, nothing happened, it just came over me. Then I tried to find a photograph of him that I had taken. He was laughing. I tore my photo box apart before realizing that my Uncle still has those photos from Dad's service. I want them back. I need them.

I want Dad back. I need him.

Some moments...

2012-02-13T16:51:00.000-08:00

Some moments, some days, some nights like this...it's so hard. As the tears roll down my face, unable to stop the sadness that is so deep I feel like I could drown in it.

I miss him so much. My best friend. I need him to be here. To talk with and laugh with and help me through this life.

I try, and I think I'm doing better, moving forward. But there are moments where I don't care anymore, about anything, and just want everything to stop. Life shouldn't go on...it can't. Not without Dad here.

Changing

2012-02-12T05:23:00.000-08:00

Sunday morning. I wonder if there will ever come a time when I'm not conscious of the fact that Dad died on a Sunday morning, right at the time I'm typing this.

Things have been changing, and I've written about that in the last week. But I've noticed even more changes. My painting for instance.

In all the paintings I've done since he died, there is a different feeling, a different flow. I'm my own worst critic, but even I have to admit that these paintings are better. I have no formal training. My training came from what I absorbed from Dad, books, videos, working with artists and the paintings of artists that I admire. My major in college was Arts, but I was studying to go into communications.

Dad and I talked about me going back to school for art, and I even took a local class in watercolor. I think I may still want to take a class here or there, but a part of me is afraid that learning technique might alter the soul of my work. I don't want to paint for profit, I just want to paint because I enjoy it...because I NEED to do it...to get what's in me, out on canvas.

I'm really blown away by all the positive responses to my work. But most important to me is when people tell me how much Dad was raving about my paintings and my ability. I always wanted to be as good as him and wanted his approval. Dad was always my toughest critic, but also my biggest fan.

There are other changes as well. I'm starting to feel a desire to go out into the world again. To interact with friends and strangers. It's happening slowly, but it's happening. And my sarcastic sense of humor is coming back too.

Mom and I talk about the "future" now. So we both are looking forward. That's a big step.

Our Early Morning Singing Song

2012-02-11T04:40:00.000-08:00

For you Dad.....Good Morning Starshine

Getting Better...

2012-02-11T04:35:00.000-08:00

It seems that way most of the time. I haven't needed to write here a few times a day, or even every day. I don't cry as much, although at random points in any given day, there are still tears.

I sold Dad's car yesterday to my friend's sister, and that went well in the end. Remembered that the heater filter needed to be changed. I had watched Dad change it many times. He was very scheduled about it. And I did it...by myself! I also installed a new shower door handle. The original one had fallen off while Dad was alive, and he tried to fix it, but it didn't work out. So I ordered a new handle assembly and installed it. All these little things, Dad took care of...now it's my job.

Last thing on the list of all the "business" that needed to be done is the taxes, and I'm going to attempt that myself. Shouldn't be too difficult. I worked for the IRS years ago, and Dad and I always did our own.

I really felt Dad around here yesterday. A few phone calls, no one on the other end but a weird static. A photograph of Mom and Dad that I have on my vanity fell over (never did before). So I believe he was letting me know he was here. I hope he's okay with how I've been handling things.

Mom said that she and Dad raised me to be able to take care of myself. Of course now I'm taking care of her as well. Mom is doing better too, not so emotional every day. But we both still, and will always, miss him so much...

I'm over the "friend" who continuously hurt me. Finally, finally, realized it's not worth it, so I just no longer care what he thinks or feels. I am surrounded by people who really do care about me and think well of me, so I don't need him.

It's snowing today and looks really pretty right now. Of course there will be shoveling to do later. But I'm going to enjoy this "not so busy" weekend, and try to maintain the peace I feel at this moment.

Realizations

2012-02-09T06:24:00.000-08:00

Sitting at my desk, listening to a song about love and the future, I realized that I still believe in love, still have hope for a future, can see that tomorrow will come.

I miss Dad, so much, so deeply. I haven't been crying as much. And I feel guilty about that. My loss was so big that I think I should be sobbing all the time, unable to function or even think of a possibility of tomorrow.

But I am and I do. And for that, I know Dad would be happy.

Of course it's not easy. My life has been a certain way for 45 years, and now it's completely different. Charting a new course, as they say. And I don't know anything, not a clue as to how this will play out. THAT for me is strange, because I'm a "planner", and to not have one is very scary. But it's one day at a time now.

As I'm writing this, I have tears rolling down my face. I haven't cried since Monday night.

Mom is doing better. She was really good yesterday, and for that I am so grateful. This is easier for me if she is okay.

I can "see" a future, and "feel" it, but to be honest, life for me and Mom, our daily life, is still pretty much "stuck." There isn't forward movement. A clearing starting in the darkness, yes, but in reality, its just routine right now, perfunctory.

Setbacks

2012-02-07T16:47:00.000-08:00

I had been doing okay for a few days, for the most part. Less tears and getting things done. occupied myself with selling some things on eBay. Dad's birthday was yesterday and I handled that pretty well too.

But I made the mistake of trying to make peace with someone I was once close to. A person I opened up to and who had gotten close to my parents. That went terribly wrong, and that person has decided they can no longer be friends with me, or even be at peace with me because they are choosing to believe stories told about me, or at least that's what was told to me by another friend.

I've shed too many tears over this person, and there were many last night. Maybe because it was dad's birthday, or because as someone else said, my heart is soft now.

To do this to me at all, but especially now, is so heartless and cruel. But I guess that is how that person really is, and I'm just seeing it for real.

So a really bad night left me with swollen eyes and not feeling too well today. I'm trying to put it behind me. I have so many more important things to consider and deal with. But it does lead me to think about who I let close to me, who my real friends are, and where my life is going.

For tonight, it's early to bed. Hoping tomorrow will be a better day.

Just Another Sunday

2012-02-05T14:30:00.000-08:00

So it's Superbowl Sunday. Lots of people having parties, getting ready for the "big game".

Not here.

My Mom is in bed, crying. And I feel so useless because I can't comfort her. There's nothing I can say that will make this any easier for her. I can't change what is.

Two women who lost the most important man in their lives. They are alone except for each other. In a too quiet house.

Tomorrow is Dad's birthday. He would have been 66 years old. He didn't even make it to 66! He was only retired for four years, and didn't even get to enjoy it.

He was cheated. We are cheated.

More tears...

2012-02-04T17:25:00.000-08:00

I had a few days, good days. Things were going well and I started to feel better. Until tonight. Sitting at the white dining room table where I've sat with Dad for so many years. I'm listening to music from the 40s, and as I've mentioned before, my love of all kinds of music came from Dad. He introduced me to all genres.

On any given Saturday night, I might be sitting here with him, listening to this kind of music, while he drank some wine, and we would talk about all kinds of things. The past, his past, thoughts on life...whatever.

Tonight, while Nat King Cole was singing Too Young, I suddenly started sobbing. Body wrenching sobs, and gushing tears.

Miss him so much. Sometimes it still doesn't seem real that he's gone forever.

A Good Day

2012-02-03T16:51:00.000-08:00

Except for the fact that I can't log into this blog from AOL anymore...it has been a really good day!

I feel Dad around me very strongly, and I can visualize him. He's healthy...and laughing! Quite a few things have happened in the last 24 hours that have made me know that he's HERE, and is still taking care of Mom and I.

All of those things I've been working so hard to straighten out are finally coming together, quickly, easily now and better than expected.

Sorta feeling like my old self...happy even....flirty. Yes, flirty!

I realize that every day won't be like this. There will be moments and days of sadness. But I am treasuring today, this moment, as a break. Some rays of sunshine through the storm clouds.

And I've been thinking, just how lucky I am, to have had John E as a Dad, best friend and guide.

Happenings

2012-02-03T04:16:00.000-08:00

All the things I've been working on, trying to get straightened out...are finally falling into place. Big sigh of relief!

Each day brings with it moments of deep sadness, but also more moments of joy and laughter, and a return to normal. As normal as I could be, as I've never been normal, and nothing about my life now is.

I'm starting to feel more like myself. Interest in things outside of "this" is starting again. I want life outside of this loss and the grief and the constant buzz in my head of all the things related to it.

But then, in a flash, thoughts of Dad...then tears, and feeling lost again.

I've changed the color of my hair. Decided to gift some of my paintings to a few close friends. Planning on selling some things on eBay (including a lot of the bags I just bought.) Lots of plans, but not always the time or energy.

Mom seems to be having better days. Not "good", I wouldn't expect that. But better. We both have to find a new way and carve a new life.

Dad is still taking care of us, watching and helping. Miracles have happened.

To Reach Up and Pull Him Down From the Sky

2012-01-31T10:13:00.000-08:00

I read those words on a website today and they really hit home. It's how I feel. I want to reach up and pull Dad down from the sky. I want to scream at God and say "give me my dad back...you can't have him...it wasn't time yet!"

Driving by that hospital each morning on my way to work....all I see is an ugly brick monster that stole my Dad.

Having a really sad day, and crying a lot. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to put eye makeup on. My heart hurts so bad, really, it's a pain I can feel

I get so angry at people when they go on and on, complaining about what amounts to very un-serious problems. Or that they understand the anxiety I feel...I want to get right in their face and say "No, you don't understand...your husband/father/brother is alive, isn't he? Then shut the f&ck up!"

I'm angry, a lot, but mostly I swallow the anger. I'm afraid of my emotions lately. That is I let them start to show, I won't be able to stop.

Then out of the blue, I received the kindest, most well-timed messages from people who DO get it, and they want to help me, comfort me, share their experience with me. And that's what reminds me that there are angels on earth, and that they are connected to me and somehow know exactly when I need them.

Overwhelmed...again

2012-01-30T15:54:00.000-08:00

Just when I start to feel a bit better, I get knocked on my ass again. The sadness, the feeling that it's all too much and I can't do it.

I don't want to take advantage of friend's kindess. I want to stop leaning on them so much. They have their own lives and problems. Unfortunately I find myself in a situation where I NEED them. I've never been here before. I don't like feeling needy.

There will be an end to this, I know. Not the sadness, that will last a lifetime. But the constant paperwork and errands, still trying to get all the financial affairs in order. I'm hoping by the end of March.

In the meantime, I'm so focused on doing these things that I'm letting myself go. I've noticed that my concentration isn't what it normally is. I mess up simple tasks. Like deflating my car tire completely instead of filling it. It bothers me that I'm not on top of things.

Need to do my own taxes, which I'm going to attempt tonight. There's so many little things that need repair, etc around the house.

I hurt my arm the night I carried dad, before he went into the hospital. It's not really getting better, but I self treat as best I can. No time for anything else right now.

And Mom requires a lot of my attention. More than ever before. Today she seemed a bit better and I feel good about that. Just not sure if it will last.

A part of my is trying so hard to get back to what I was, but I never make it. Sometimes I just want to curl up into a ball, stay in bed and let life go.

The main thing though is that I've lost the most important person in my life and I don't know how to deal with it.

Anniversary

2012-01-28T17:49:00.001-08:00

Mom and Dad were married, 46 years ago today (January 28, 1966), by a Justice of the Peace, in Elkins Park, PA. This is the only photgraph I've ever seen from that day. I've always treasured it.

"Sunrise, Sunset"

Is this the little girl I carried?

Is this the little boy at play?

I don't remember growing older

When did they?

When did she get to be a beauty?

When did he grow to be so tall?

Wasn't it yesterday

When they were small?

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly flow the days

Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers

Blossoming even as we gaze

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

What words of wisdom can I give them?

How can I help to ease their way?

Now they must learn from one another

Day by day

They look so natural together

Just like two newlyweds should be

Is there a canopy in store for me?

Sunrise, sunset

Swiftly fly the years

One season following another

Laden with happiness and tears

Struggling

2012-01-27T15:19:00.000-08:00

I must appear to the world that I am well and functioning, but that's not really true. Most minutes of every day, I'm struggling. Trying to maintain some regular schedule, still working on getting all of the paperwork and such straightened out. Dealing with other people's "shoulds", as if they know what's best for me.

And through all of that, the acute pain of missing Dad. Everything I do...wanting to ask him a question or get his advice or tell him something that happened. And the emptiness.

Someone who went through a devastating loss themselves told me to be careful, because my heart is soft now. And I've found that to be very true. I am sensitive to everything, and I'm not fighting back like I normally would. But I AM angry. Just not dealing with it in the usual manner.

I was thinking back to a moment when I was truly happy. April, 2011. That was the last time I remember feeling that way. It was a particular night. There are photographs. I looked at them today, saw the genuine smile on my face. I remember that girl, but she isn't here now. So many things have happened since then.

As for this journey I'm on, I don't know where it will take me and who I will be at the end of it. That scares me sometimes.

But everything isn't terrible. I'm opening up to a few people that I wouldn't have let in before, and those are turning out to be very treasured friendships. I'm learning to ask for help when needed, which was always difficult for me. And the business end of this is starting to fall into place, so all of my efforts weren't in vain.

Tomorrow is my parents 46th wedding anniversary. I'll do my best to comfort Mom. She is still having a rough time with this, and she probably will always.

I miss you dad, and I love you. I wish you were here to hold my hand. I do feel you around sometimes. And I know when the phone rings, and there's no one there, it's really you calling me

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh!" he whispered.
"Yes Piglet?""
Nothing" said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw.
I just wanted to be sure of you."
--A. A. Milne

Quite a Mess

2012-01-24T16:47:00.000-08:00

Emotions and moods have been a rollercoaster ride for the last few days. There are moments where I'm functioning and okay, then a wave of grief, or anxiety or obsessive compulsiveness hits and I become a mess.

Mom seems to be slipping away from me, from life itself. I know she sees no reason to go on and it gets harder each day. My Dad was her life and now that's gone. Her heart is broken, probably beyond any repair.

Decided against the original plan of trading in Dad's and my car to get a new one. Going to sell Dad's car and keep mine for awhile. I wanted my little blue car so badly. Dad helped me get it. It's too hard to let it go now. Dad's car was originally my car and he took that when I got my newer one. He never loved it, so it's easier to get rid of that one. If it was his VW Beetle, I don't think I could part with it. Or even one of his Mustangs.

I've been on one of my compulsive kicks. Buying bags on Ebay. It's a coping mechanism and I'm aware of that. Something to be engrossed in that means nothing except an escape from what I feel.

And what I feel is the devastation of the realization that Dad is really gone and I will never see him again.

Rebel Rebel

2012-01-21T15:58:00.001-08:00

I've been struggling with identity issues since dad's death, and I've written abot some of them. I felt like I needed to tone down my appearance and become a more serious person, since I've taken on all these responsibilities, everything prior seemed frivilous.

Tonight my dear friend Ed's band, Boss Hydro, is playing, and I'm not going. It feels strange, because I always go to support him. Jokingly, I'm the president of the Boss Hydro fan club. But it's too soon. I'm afraid I'll be too emotional, and I don't think I'm ready to handle crowds yet.

But I've been thinking about it all day.

Then, about an hour ago, I realized...Dad wouldn't want me to change who I am. He raised me on rock music, and to be a rebel. Most kids rebelled against their parents. Not me! I had my own style, my own way of doing things, and my Dad supported me. It was the world he wanted me to rebel against. He never wanted me to be a follower, always a leader.

My dad is the person who introduced me to punk music back in 1977! He liked Cyndi Lauper and said she reminded him of me.

Of course, he didn't always love what I was wearing or my ever changing hair color. But he DID love the fact that I wasn't afraid to be me...whatever that looked like at the moment.

And there was that moment in the very early 80s, when my punk look was getting a bit crazy. Dad took me aside and said "You're too pretty to be punk" And I understood what he meant. The "look" didn't work on me. So I toned it down a bit, and it was cool.

So I guess the moral of this revelation is don't become a recluse, or a wallflower or a plain jane, just because Dad is no longer physically here....instead be the rebellious me that he loved so much.

The Scarf

2012-01-20T16:58:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you a story that will give you an example of the kind of man my Dad was, and why he means so much to me.

Dad had been ill for a few months, had very little energy and had lost about 40 pounds. Previous to that, he was strong and muscular all his life. We knew it was a complex bacterial infection in his lungs and treatment was soon to begin.

Most days, Dad would stay home resting or doing very small tasks. But once or twice a week, he would go out to doctors or the food stores. It took a lot out of him to do these things, but he did them. He would always bring home something from the store that was my favorite, whether it was cookies or honey roasted peanuts. Sometimes he would bring flowers for Mom and I.

Christmas was coming, and I knew Dad wasn't up to our annual shopping day together. When I was younger we would always go downtown, but the past few years we would go to Willow Grove Mall. I knew Dad was sad he didn't have the energy to make it to the mall this year, but I assured him I would buy all the gifts. And I did. I spent all of Thanksgiving weekend shopping in stores and online...Dad's gifts for Mom, Mom's gifts for Dad, and my gifts for both of them. I even purchased my own gifts from them.

Dad had lost so much wieght that nothing fit him, so I bought new pants and a new jacket for him. I was looking forward to surprising him on Christmas morning!

After Dad died, when I was going over the credit card statement, I noticed a charge from Saks. I asked Mom if Dad had bought anything there. Mom said she thought that one day in late November, he had gone to Franklin Mills Mall and bought himself some shoes. I thought that was a bit odd, but accepted it.

Dad died the Sunday before Christmas, and Mom and I knew that opening gifts on Christmas morning as the three of us had always done, would be too painful. So we decided on Friday morning to exchange gifts. First, Dad's gifts. Mom kept the sweatpants and I kept the jacket. I couldn't bring myself to return those things.

Then my Mom came out of her bedroom with a small silver gift bag. I was confused because I already knew what I had bought myself from them.

Mom handed the bag to me and told me the story. My Dad wanted to get me something himself. He remembered a red coat that I had, and wanted to get me a red scarf to go with it. It took all the energy he had that day in late November to go to Off 5th (Saks) at Franklin Mills, but he was determined.

Inside the bag was a beautiful dark red cashmere scarf, as well as a hot pink scarf. Mom said that Dad wanted to get more for me, but never got the chance to go out shopping again.

I wore that scarf for two weeks straight after that day. It didn't matter that it didn't match what I was wearing, and that I had given that red coat away because it was too big for me.

As weak as Dad was, as much of a struggle as that act was, he loved me so much that he wanted to do that for me. It could have been a pinwheel for all I care. It was the love behind it.

That is who my Dad was, always. Do you see now why I love him so much and why my heart is so broken?

Good Days, Bad Days

2012-01-19T18:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was mostly a good day. I smiled, even laughed, and didn't cry. Until later in the evening when I was paying bills, and became very anxious over all my new responsibilities. Can I handle this? Am I doing it right? Then the wave of fresh grief rolled over me, and I gave up and went to bed crying.

Today I was mostly anxious and sad. I wonder why I even bother...to get up, do things. What's the point. There is a huge, gaping hole in my life and my heart is completely broken. I miss my dad more than I can even possibly explain in words.

Mom has been talking a lot about moving, far away, somewhere near the sea. That's fine with me, although I'm not sure if it's just talk, a wish, a way to cope.

I realize I'm very sensitive to everything right now, and it seems some people think I should be snapping out of this. Some have even suggested I need anti-depressant medication. I'm not depressed, I'm grieving.

And to those that suggest I take my Mom to one of those "senior centers" so she can socialize....yeah and maybe she should start dating too?

It's only been a month.

I've been let down by a few people that I thought I was close to. They have just disappeared. But I have also been overwhelmed by kindness from people I barely know. Some of the nicest words have come from those people.

One of my very closest friends stopped by tonight. She brought cake, so we sat and ate and talked. I wasn't the best company, but it was nice to have her here. Then I pulled out some old photos of dad and I , and started to cry.

So, that's all for now, I'm just going to crawl under the covers. Tomorrow is another day.

Just a bad day

2012-01-17T11:59:00.000-08:00

I'm having a really difficult day today. No matter what I try to do or focus on isn't distracting me from really intense sadness. I can't seem to stop the tears. Feel pretty awful and wish I was home. I keep reliving his final 24 hours.

When he was in the ICU the night before, hooked up to the ventilator, my uncle was talking to him (we both believe that even when someone is in a coma, even if it's drug induced, they can hear people speak to them). My uncle said to Dad that he would take care of me and my Mom. I was in the corner of the room, it was all so unreal to me, that I couldn't move from that spot. As my uncle spoke those words, I saw one solitary tear roll out of my Dad's left eye. I jumped to his side and brushed the tear away, as I started crying myself.

Not sure why I'm like this today. Maybe because tomorrow will be a month. Or maybe it's just a bad day.

Identity

2012-01-17T05:29:00.001-08:00

Some nights and mornings are more difficult than others. This is one of them. I spent time last night looking at old photographs of Dad and I, living in memories of who we were.

Change is a part of life, and I've gone through many phases and changes. Some superficial, most deeply rooted in my psyche. But my core has always remained. The person my Dad raised me to be.

There's a lot of "hippie" still left in me that believes in "peace, love and understanding" and "social justice". Integrity, kindness, wanting to help my fellow man and protect the earth. These aren't just words to me, but how for the most part, I live.

I went through most of the 2000's in a self-induced coma of sorts. It was a reaction to some very painful things that happened in my life from 1999 though 2002. So I cut myself off from the world. Then in 2009, something switched inside of me and I burst back into life. Got back in shape, changed my appearance, made new friends, got re-aquainted with old ones. Fell in love with the wrong person. It was a phase of re-adjustment.

When Dad first became ill a few months ago, I started to feel another change. Some things no longer felt "right."

And now that he's gone, and my life is really changing in so many ways, I'm changing as well. I'm softening. Inside as well as my appearance. Maybe I'm returning to that little girl who wanted to be just like her Dad. Running along side him, trying to keep up. I wanted to be everything he was.

There's a big part of me that would like to just find a small place by the sea, and spend my days painting. Maybe have a little shop where I would sell my paintings and other artsy things. And I would wear soft, flowy clothing. I would sit at the local cafe and drink coffee and speak with people about life. There would be time to read and listen to music.

Ironically that's the life Dad wanted to live too.

I miss his physical presence so much, but so much of me IS him, that he's not really gone, is he?

Not quite right

2012-01-16T14:57:00.000-08:00

Some days, I couldn't care less about food, but then there are moments when I could eat for days.

Sometimes, I'm so involved with the business end of things for Mom, that I forget about my own bills. I'm stressing over doing their taxes, haven't even thought about my own.

When I have free time, I tell myself I should be cleaning out a cabinet or packing things up, but I can't bring myself to do it just yet.

All I want to wear is comfortable things, don't wear much makeup anymore, but I paint my nails in an outrageous way. I packed away my flirty clothes, my short skirts, etc.

Bedtime is very early most nights, and I feel as if I could just keep sleeping.

I walk around the house, sometimes for 10 minutes, trying to remember what I should be doing.

Most of the time, I don't want to be around anyone or talk to anyone. Sometimes though, I need to be around one or two people I'm close to. And there are a few brief moments when I want someone to hold me close for awhile.

These feelings and behaviors aren't "me". Something isn't quite right. At those moments, when I'm trying to figure out why....I remember.

Then I cry.

I'm never going to see Dad again, won't hear his voice, be able to hug him. He won't be here to help me make decisions, or even help me shovel snow.

At those moments, I feel all alone in the world.

I love my Mom, fiercely, protectively. But that's just it. I take care of her, and Dad and I have for as long as I can remember. There's no one now to take care of me. Even though I am very accomplished at handling things and taking care of things, I always knew Dad was here. But now he's not.

My life, and me, will never be the same.

I just read everything I wrote above, and it sounds as if I'm whining. That's isn't my intention, and I hope anyone reading this understands that. There are so many things going on now, sometimes I just need to write my thoughts down to clear my head.

One thing I read recently had a lot of meaning for me, and I try to remember it when I start feeling that everything is chaos. "Grief is the journey from what was to what will be."

It's a journey I'm on and this is my travel diary.

Something about John E.

2012-01-15T04:53:00.000-08:00

and that was his name, John E., not Johnny, although sometimes as a laugh he would sign a card that way.

When I was very little, for a few years we lived in a duplex on Convent Avenue, across from a field. I remember being in my playpen by the window watching Dad run for the bus to go to work. Sometimes when he would come home, he'd have a white bakery bag in his hand and inside were a few small cream puffs for me.

One morning, he was making breakfast for me. I was sitting in my high chair at the table, and Dad put a small plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. I hadn't acquired a liking for eggs yet and wouldn't touch them. Dad took the plate back into the kitchen and after a minute came back with a plate filled with little brown candy cups...filled with scrambled eggs. Dad thought he could fool me into thinking the eggs were candy. Nope, that didn't work, I was his little girl after all, and you can't kid a kidder!

Dad worked a few jobs then, trying to save enough money for a house. Even though he worked a lot of hours, I never felt neglected. He always found time to spend with me.

Yesterday I was going through some things trying to find important papers, and found a box filled with photos and other mementos. Cards I had made for him when I was small. Photos from days when he and I were off on one of our adventures. He saved all those things. I think he saved every thing I ever gave him.

I loved our adventures, whether it was a walk in the park, running to the top of Bowman's Tower, taking long drives north, or day trips down the shore. And these things continued though my adulthood.

Missing his presence in my life, in this house, in this world.

Another morning...mourning

2012-01-14T04:49:00.000-08:00

I don't feel so bad this morning, and I feel bad about that. There's a lot of guilt in this process called grieving. Try to remind myself that nothing is good or bad, it just is.

Spent some time with a friend last night. A good friend, better and more important to me that I thought. A space where I feel safe and free to be whoever I am at the moment. That's unfortunately rare, and especially important to me now. We talked about things other than death and its consequences and for a while I felt like myself, the 'me' outside of the grief and the new version of life that it brings.

Then I came home and looked into Mom's sad and tired eyes. There isn't much I can do for her right now, other than what I am doing. Taking care of things and her. Being here as much as I can. I can't take away her pain, and I can't tell her that life will get better for her, because in most ways it won't. Her family is all dead, as is her best female friend. Mom doesn't drive, hasn't worked in years and doesn't have any hobbies. It's a really tough place to be.

My Mom lost her soul mate, her best friend and companion. My parents didn't have social friends, they had each other. It worked for them, but it makes it harder now.

One thing gave me hope. The other day Mom said she was thinking she should take a computer course so she could learn how to pay the bills and such. I'm not sure how feasible that is, but it means that she is looking "forward" and that's a positive thing.

I'm still not ready for social things. Received an invitation to a friend's wedding in March, and I'm torn about responding to it. Will I be able to go and enjoy myself? My friend's band is playing a gig this coming Saturday, and although a part of me wants to be there to support him, I'm not sure if I can handle being in a crowd like that. I'm not even interested in going to the malls and shopping.

So for now, I stick close to home, work and a few close friends. And my computer.

Everything then nothing

2012-01-13T04:11:00.000-08:00

It's the small things that can bring you to your knees. Getting to work in the morning and making absolutely certain you take your keys out of the ignition and put them in your bag, because you won't be able to call Dad to bring the spare set if you lock them in the car. Then the tears come.

Tears. You would think there has to be an end, but you would be wrong. There's a bottomless well inside of you, with a pump that produces those salty drops of water, anytime, anyplace.

A few friends told me last night that I'm being a bit hard on myself in my expectations. That's it's only been a few weeks. This is going to take a long time. I won't have everything "in order" and "taken care of", and the active grieving will last much longer. And that it will get harder before it gets easier.

That was good, in a way, to hear. Because other that taking care of business things, and working, I can't seem to do much else. The house isn't clean, and everything is just as Dad left it as well. I only do necessary things outside the house, food store, gas. I stick to a few close friends to communicate with, mostly texting because I'm just too tired or upset to talk.

Yesterday, when I pulled into the gas station around the corner, the one I always go to, the attendant handed me a sympathy card from the owner, Joe. It's one of the nicest I've received, and I was so touched that he did that. I am continuously amazed by the kindness that comes from unexpected places.

"How are you doing"?

2012-01-12T06:57:00.000-08:00

Please stop asking this. Don't ask anyone who is grieving this question. I know, at least I think, you mean well, but stop.

The real answer to this question would sound something like this:

I am hurting, I am angry, I am very sad, I want to die, I'm exhausted, I hate everything, I don't want to go on. And I don't understand how your life goes on just fine and everything in my life has stopped.

I'm pretty certain you don't really want a truthful answer when you ask that question. So, stop asking.

Instead just say, "thinking of you" or "love u", or if you mean it and ONLY if you mean it, say "is there anything I can do for you?" Or better yet, just send a cookie tray, or donuts or bagels. Quick, easy things to pick at. Grieving people don't usually sit down to full meals. THAT would be appreciated.

And it doesn't get easier or better each day. It gets harder. And he isn't in a better place. And I won't get over it.

Just say "I'm sorry", and then hug me. A grieving person needs hugs. Seriously.

Don't know who I am anymore...

2012-01-12T05:22:00.000-08:00

I'm not the person I was before December 18, 2012, and never will be, but I don't know who I am now.

I don't believe in anything. No faith, no trust. I also don't care that I feel that way.

Get up in the morning and do what needs to be done. With no joy, no passion. None of what made me...me. I do it all for my Mom and my dog Yoko. Can't see anything outside of that, and the dark thoughts that swirl in my head.

This is part of grief. I'm aware of that. The darkness doesn't scare me.

I don't want medicine to "lift my mood" and "ease my depression" I'd rather take street drugs than trust doctors and drug companies. But I won't do that either.

I will live in the darkness. I know it well. For the first time, I completely understand and feel what John Lennon was saying in this song.

God is a concept
By which we measure
Our pain
I'll say it again
God is a concept
By which we measure
Our pain
I don't believe in magic
I don't believe in I-ching
I don't believe in Bible
I don't believe in tarot
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Jesus
I don't believe in Kennedy
I don't believe in Buddha
I don't believe in Mantra
I don't believe in Gita
I don't believe in Yoga
I don't believe in kings
I don't believe in Elvis
I don't believe in Zimmerman
I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me
Yoko and me
And that's reality
The dream is over
What can I say?
The dream is over
Yesterday
I was the Dreamweaver
But now I'm reborn
I was the Walrus
But now I'm John
And so dear friends
You'll just have to carry on
The dream is over

--God by John Lennon

Let me tell you about my best friend...

2012-01-10T16:29:00.000-08:00

I took this picture of my Dad when I was about 7 years old. It's one of my favorites because I really think it captures him. My cool, long haired, free wheelin' Dad.

Dad was born on February 6, 1946 to Jack and Alice. They lived in North Philly, in St. Edwards Parish. My Dad was known to be quite a serious child who didn't smile much. Growing up he was a bit of a rebel. He hung on the corner, played pinball and pool, and smoked Lucky Strikes. He got into trouble for reading Mad magazine and for listening to "black" music...the precursor to white rock and roll.

His father split when my Dad was 12, and Dad lived with his grandmother, "Momma" for awhile. Dad and Momma were very close.

My parents grew up in the same neighborhood, and attended St. Ed's school a year apart. They got together when they were about 14 years old. Dad went to North Catholic and my Mom moved up to the northeast with her family. They saw each other off and on during those years, and became seriously involved in their late teens. They were married on January 28, 1966.

Dad was an artistic soul. He was so talented. He could draw, and write. He wrote some of the best poetry I've ever read, a lot for Mom and I. We always loved the handmade cards he would give us.

Music was such a big part of my Dad's life, he loved all kinds. His record collection is in the thousands.

When I was young, Dad would put me into our '72 green VW Beetle and we would go for rides, listening to the radio and singing along. From "Good Morning Starshine" to "A Horse With No Name". We didn't have a destination, but wherever we wound up, Dad would always show me things and teach me something.

Dad had a few jobs while he was young, working in Chris' candy store, Philadelphia Life Insurance Company, another company that made landing mats for the military planes in Nam, then eventually he started working for the Post Office, first as a clerk, then a carrier.

Sometimes when I was young, Dad would take me along while he delivered mail on his route. My little legs couldn't keep up with him all the time, but I tried.

Music and walking. Two things I can't do without thinking of my Dad....

Taking my hands off the wheel

2012-01-09T15:43:00.000-08:00

There's something or someone else steering this ship, and over the last few days, events have caused me to accept that and take my hands off the wheel. Which for me, is difficult and huge.

My Mom hasn't been well. She suffers from chronic pain stemming from her spine and neck. My parent's doctor has been treating her with pain medication, the only thing that allows her to move freely without pain. Well, their doctor has been unreachable for weeks. I was angry, and panicked. Mom was getting worse and I didn't think she was going to make it. There was no way, after what just happened to Dad that I was taking her to a hospital. As if I would say "You just took my Dad, here, have my Mom."

I called a few doctors, including my own, and none would fit her in. I did find one doctor to see her, but as I said in an earlier post, that wasn't helpful.

Today, finally desperate enough, I tried again to reach their doctor. I did, he wrote a prescription, I picked it up, got it filled and now Mom is at least physically comfortable.

I took my hands off the wheel and accepted what was.

I have been, for the last few weeks, doing all of the paperwork required to set Mom up in good financial shape. Almost a full time job. One road block after another. Some things did go smoothly and are complete. Others are not, because the companies and people I need to do their job are slow or incompetent.

I had a plan, a timeline, of how everything needed to be done and fall into place. It's not happening that way.

So again, decided to take my hands off the wheel. Everything will be in place eventually. Whoever is steering this ship has a plan. And maybe it's better than my plan.

I have been an exercise and mostly healthy eating fanatic for years. Very regimented. Well, that has also changed. Some days there isn't time, or I don't have the energy. So I take 2 or 3 mile walks when I can, maybe do a set or two with free weights when there are a few minutes to spare. I don't eat much, but still try to eat healthy things. I've lost about 10 pounds in the last few weeks...grief does that.

Again, hands off the wheel. Steer the ship Captain. I'll get back into a better routine when the time is right.

I even laughed a few times today. Real laughs. At first I felt guilty, then realized Dad would want me to laugh. We laughed a lot together, had our own inside jokes, and the same dry humor.

I hope it's Dad steering the ship. I trust him more than anyone I've ever known. I miss him so much. Such an emptiness in this house, in my life, in my heart.

Wish you could have known my Dad, if you didn't. The coolest, wisest, funniest guy ever...who loved me like no one will ever love me.

Ativan Kills

2012-01-08T07:16:00.000-08:00

I had experienced first hand what Ativan does to someone when I was caring for my Grandfather. He would be admitted into the hospital and within days would be in a comatose state. Pop had dementia, was a big, strong man, and would get agressive. Not only did they use Ativan, but also restraints.

When I took my Dad to the hospital on Saturday, December 10, 2012, he wasn't well. We knew he had this bacterial infection in his lungs. The doctors were waiting for final confirmation from the state in order to start treating him. That morning my Dad got himself washed and dressed and walked to my car. (He had driven himself to the doctor and store earlier in the week.)

At the emergency room, there was quick action as Dad's oxygen level was only 65% and his heart rate was too fast. He was transfered to ICU, and put in an isolation room, due to a misunderstanding by hospital personnel who thought he had tuberculosis.

At this point my Dad could speak and was relaxed. He was being treated well by hospital staff. He was then transferred to the Tertiary Care Unit, then moved back up to the Step-Down Unit.

All of a sudden, Dad could no longer speak. He wasn't allowed to get up out of bed. He suddenly also had liquid diarreah, so they inserted a tube into his rectum with a bag. They also put a balloon catheter on him.

When I found out from the nurse that he was being given intravenous morphine and ativan, I immediately and loudly told them to stop NOW. My father has problems with those two medications. I spoke to three nurses and one doctor and was ASSURED that the meds were stopped and it was marked on the chart.

Friday evening, when I arrived at the hospital, my Dad was sitting up in bed, he greeted me with a big "hello!" We had conversation, he talked. We spoke of going to Ocean City when he got better. He told me repeatedly how much he loved me. I was hopeful. The doctors told me that although the treatment would be long and difficult, my Dad would recover from this.

On Saturday, December 17, 2012, I called the nurses station as I did every morning (and at various times through the day). His nurse for the day, Kim, told me that she had just come on duty but the night nurse reported that Dad had an unremarkable night. That was good!

Around 10:00 a.m. we received a call from the doctor that they were going to insert the feeding tube. We had consented to this three days earlier. I don't know why it took so long.

When Mom and I got to the hospital around noon, Dad wasn't right. He wasn't able to speak again and wasn't very responsive. I asked the nurse, Kim, what was going on, and she said he was like this all morning. The feeding tube was in place, but they had not started food.

Mom and I stayed with him for a few hours. Then I took Mom home, went food shopping, then went back to the hospital.

My Dad was in obvious respiratory distress. His chest was heaving and he was clutching at his throat. I immediately got his nurse Kim's attention. I asked what was going on. Again she stated he was like this all day. I stated NO, he wasn't like THIS when I was here 2 hours ago. Kim then started telling me that Dad had been pulling at his nasal feeding tube all day. I stated that in the hours I was there I never once saw him reach for his nose. Kim started telling me they might need to restrain him. I really started to get angry and upset. He wasn't even moving! It was then, finally that she told me she asked him if he was in pain and he said yes, so she gave him Ativan, "just a little bit" Is that medical terminology?

It was then that I really became enraged. I told Kim that I had spoken to three nurses and a doctor and my Dad was NOT to be given Ativan. Kim stated that it was still ordered for him then she disappeared quickly saying she would call a doctor.

Let me explain. Ativan is NOT pain medication. It is a tranquilizer. A STRONG tranquilizer. It directly affects respiration.

All of this happened within maybe 15 minutes. I wrote the details down in my phone and took a video of my Dad. I knew something was horribly wrong and wanted documentation while I was trying to decide what to do next.

A kidney doctor came into the room, saying she was there to examine Dad. I went off on her about his condition. Then my Uncle showed up. I told him what was going on and that I was about to do something I might regret. He agreed that something was really wrong with Dad and told me he would try to get answers.

I left the hospital to check on my Mom. We live 2 minutes away from the hospital. Minutes after walking in my front door, my Uncle called saying they want to put your Dad on a ventilator. A few calls back and forth. I was already on my way back to the hospital.

When I got there, they had already put Dad in a medically induced coma and intubated him. There was no chance for me to look into his eyes again or to speak to him. He was already in ICU.

The doctor and nurse in ICU explained what was happening. That they were trying to stablilize Dad, and once he was stable he could be removed from the ventilator. I stayed for awhile.

I cannot explain to you how surreal this all was.

Left the hospital to go home and be with Mom. ICU staff told me they would call if there was any change.

I called the ICU at 6am when I woke up on Sunday, December 18, 2012. I was told that my Dad was very critical and they believed he would code that day. THEY NEVER CALLED ME DURING THE NIGHT. As I was getting ready to go to the hospital they called me and said "you need to get here right now" I was there in 5 minutes, escorted to ICU, where I was told that the ventilator and meds were keeping my Dad's body alive, and I needed to decided whether to prolong it or remove him now.

Mom and I made the most painful decision ever, to remove him from everything. My Dad took his final breath, his heart had its final beat while I was holding him at 8:09 a.m.

It is only now, a few weeks later, that my mind is starting to process all of this. And I believe that the Ativan that nurse Kim gave to my Dad is what caused his premature death.

I'm certain I will write more about this, do more about this, cry more about this. But until then PLEASE, listen to me. DO NOT LET HOSPITALS GIVE ANYONE YOU LOVE THE DRUG CALLED ATIVAN. I did some research online last night and read many stories from many people that describe this same experience.

The horror is just beginning.

His Voice

2012-01-07T14:52:00.000-08:00

I think the hardest thing, at least in my experience, when someone close dies, is that you will never hear their voice again.

Dad always called me "babe". I can hear it in my head, but I'll never hear him say it again. I'll never hear him tell me every year at Thanksgiving to "just try the cranberry sauce". I'll never hear him say "I love you".

I don't listen to music much now. So much a part of my relationship with Dad was music. He is the one who taught me to appreciate it, all kinds. If I had to pick one thing we shared, it would be that. Right now, there's a lot I can't listen to, so I choose silence. Maybe someday I'll find the joy in it again.

The past few days have been draining. Mom is in a lot of pain, emotional and physical. My parents doctor hasn't returned any calls since a few days before Dad went into the hospital, and no answer at all now from the office. I tried to get Mom in to see my doctor (who I'm not thrilled with but this is an emergency situation) but she couldn't find 15 minutes to see Mom. I did find a doctor to see her. Mom's vitals are all okay, but this doctor treated her as if she was a junkie looking for a fix but wanted to put her on some medication that has the longest list of side effects I've ever seen. Has this doctor never seen a woman who just lost her husband of 46 years, who also happens to have chronic nerve bone and joint pain?

I'm not very fond of medical personnel at the moment. I think something went wrong at the hospital, but I don't have the mental ability to deal with that right now. Or the emotional capacity.

Maybe the adrenaline that got me through the first two weeks is gone. I am exhausted most of the time. Going to bed very early is becoming a regular thing. I work or do things that need to be done until I can't anymore, then just sleep. I could sleep all day, but I don't let myself.

I didn't cry much the last few days, but today I let loose for a bit. Sitting at our dining room table with Mom and a good friend of mine, who thankfully brought some pain meds for Mom. Something to help a little. I started talking about Dad and everything and the tears flowed.

Pushing people away when things are bad is something I realize now that I do. I don't know why. Maybe it's my "Supergirl Complex" or something like that. I need help but won't ask for it. I'm glad this particular friend knows this about me and pushes past it.

My parents wedding anniversary is January 28th. They would have been married 46 years. Dad's birthday is February 6th. He would have been 66.

Tomorrow is Sunday. Dad died on a Sunday at 8:09 a.m. Nineteen days ago. Sundays suck.

To think that only yesterday,
I was cheerful, bright and gay,
Looking forward to,
but who wouldn't do,
The role I was about to play
But as if to knock me down,
Reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch,
Cut me into little pieces
Leaving me to doubt,
Talk about God in His mercy
For if He really does exist
Why did He desert me
In my hour of need?
I truly am indeed,
Alone again, naturally
It seems to me that
There are more hearts
Broken in the world
That can't be mended
Left unattended
What do we do?
What do we do?
Alone again, naturally
Now looking back over the years,
And what ever else that appears
I remember I cried when my father died
Never wishing to hide the tears
And at sixty-five years old,
My mother, God rest her soul,
Couldn't understand, why the only man
She had ever loved had been taken
Leaving her to start with a heart
So badly broken
Despite encouragement from me
No words were ever spoken
And when she passed away
I cried and cried all day
Alone again, naturally
Alone again, naturally

--from Alone Again, (Naturally) by Gilbert O'Sullivan

Offers of Help

2012-01-05T04:17:00.000-08:00

Last night, I went to sleep very early. I had to take a break from doing things. There are so many things to keep up with.

Everyone offers help. They all say "anything you need, please ask."

Of course I need help. This is too much for one person. One person who is deeply grieving, drowning, trying to keep their head above water.

However, the thing is, what I NEED help with, no one can help with.

--financial matters for Mom. This took up most of the last two weeks, but it's private information and no one can pretend to be me or my Mom anyway.

--Household chores. I really don't expect anyone to come to my house and clean or do laundry so I can attend to other things.

--As for food and cooking, Mom and I don't eat much, and not usually at night.

--Is anyone going to take a day off from work and spend time with Mom so she's not alone, grieving? No, that isn't going to happen.

--Cleaning Dad's things out. I haven't started this yet, maybe not for a long time. And when I do, I'm not sure I want other people, however well-intended, going through his things.

People want to visit at night. I appreciate the gesture, but I work all day and Mom is alone. When I get home, we spend time together, then she goes into her bedroom, and I do household things. Having visitors to entertain isn't what either of us needs right now.

People want to take one of us or both out to eat. While I realize getting out of the house may be good for us, it would be limited to weekends, and there are things we need to attend to ourselves, and sometimes we just don't want other people around.

I DO appreciate people's concern and good intentions, but I wish they would try to understand the situation.

I Don't Have a Title for This

2012-01-04T04:00:00.000-08:00

Some days just getting dressed is an accomplishment. This is one of those.

Last night, I wailed. Sounds came from me that I never heard before. My body shook with sobs and liquids ran out of my face. I finally crawled into bed and fell asleep that way.

The horror of this, of what happened, it's finally becoming real to me.

Did you know that when a ventilator is removed from someone, that the body continues to breathe as if it was on the ventilator? Sharp involuntary intakes of breath. I didn't know that either. I never wanted to know that or see my Dad that way.

I'm starting to resent people, and their conversations about daily life. The trivial things they complain about. They don't appreciate what they have.

Wish I could just stay home, in bed. But I'm out, at work, leaving Mom alone and expected to function as if everything in my world isn't shattered.

Well, it is. Shattered.

People keep saying that I'm strong. Tough. I'm not. I'm a weak, sad, lost little girl.

Bad Day

2012-01-03T17:22:00.000-08:00

I hate this Everything about it. It hurts. It sucks more than anything has ever sucked.

Mom had a really bad day. I went back to work today, and she was alone, crying all day and sleeping. I want to make it all go away for her. I want the same for myself.

I want my Dad back.

I want to scream and cry and rage.

Nothing in my life will ever be the same again. I can't pretend that it will.

I have spent the last 15 days doing everything necessary. Going all day long. I've cried...hard. But I don't think I've even begun to deal with this. The reality. What happened.

And I think it's starting now.

I WANT MY DAD BACK. DAMMIT. THE ONLY PERSON WHO MADE THIS LIFE OKAY FOR ME IS GONE. I DON'T WANT THIS NEW LIFE WITHOUT HIM. TAKE IT BACK. MAKE IT RIGHT. THIS ISN'T RIGHT. IT SHOULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED.

And the Mourning Lasted All Day...

2012-01-02T17:31:00.000-08:00

But I didn't sob as much today. I cried while walking this morning and at various points throughout the day, but not the deep, body wrenching sobbing of yesterday. I think maybe it was just quieter grieving today.

I took Mom to the lawyer today to get some papers drawn up. It was a good visit, and he gave me some info to assist me with a few things...in a fatherly way. I needed that.

We also had to buy a refrigerator. A necessity, since the one we have, the one my Dad tried so hard to fix and save, is unsavable. A quick trip to the scratch and dent place behind my house. Over and done in 10 minutes, which was about all Mom and I could handle.

I painted a picture today. Dad isn't here to see it, but honestly I wouldn't have painted what I did if he was still here.

Had quite a few messages from friends today, checking on me, encouraging me and giving me much needed strength. I thought everyone had gone away, back to their own lives, but they haven't forgotten me. I'm so grateful to them and for their love.

Mom and I talked tonight, about our grief, about not wanting to go on except for each other. I told her I need her to do whatever it takes to be here, stay here. That if I lost her now, I wouldn't make it. She seemed to understand and want to try. That's a start. Right now, she is my only reason for being. I told her life is different now so we have to do different things.

I bought a book on grieving tonight for my Kindle. "I Wasn't Ready to Say Goodbye". It received many good reviews, so maybe I'll find something helpful in it.

Wanted to write a post about my Dad, who he was, where he came from. But I'll save that for another time.

****

Oh very young
What will you leave us this time
You're only dancing on this earth for a short while
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now
They will vanish away like your daddy's best jeans
Denim Blue fading up to the sky
And though you want him to last forever
You know he never will
(You know he never will)
And the patches make the goodbye harder still
Oh very young
What will you leave us this time
There'll never be a better chance to change your mind
And if you want this world to see a better day
Will you carry the words of love with you
Will you ride the great white bird into heaven
And though you want to last forever
You know you never will
(You know you never will)
And the goodbye makes the journey harder still
Oh very young
What will you leave us this time
You're only dancing on this earth for a short while
Oh very young
What will you leave us this time

(Oh Very Young by Cat Stevens)

Today

2012-01-02T03:45:00.000-08:00

Today is the last day of holiday vacation before going back to work. Not a holiday or vacation for me. Just endless days of doing and crying and thinking.

I've done this before, when Gram died in 2000, and I took care of Pop and handled all the financial things. Then when Pop died in 2002. And now again. This time it's harder. Peopple have told me they wouldn't even know where to begin with all the paperwork and phone calls. Maybe I should write a book. I'll call it "How to Manage Your Affairs While Your Heart is Ripped Out and You Can't See Through Your Tears."

The financial end of things is almost complete. Taking Mom to the lawyer today, then just a few minor things. The cars are the only big thing left. Just waiting for titles, then trading both in for a new model. It's what Dad wanted me to do, and new warranty and updated safety features makes me feel a little more secure, since Mom doesn't drive and Dad isn't around to drive me in bad weather.

Then comes the cleaning out. The hardest part. I'm an organized person and don't like clutter, so getting rid of things isn't usually a problem for me. But these are Dad's things. A part of him. How do I box and bag up the life of my Dad? And what do I do with all of those things?

And his ashes. Mom said Dad wanted to be spread over the ocean, not kept in a box. Ocean City was always our place, so eventually, I will honor his wishes and do that. Just not yet. For now, he's on a table on his side of the bed he shared with Mom.

Nothing is the same. I don't see the world in the same way. Can hardly bring myself to walk, certainly not the distance or speed I usually do. Barely eat. Don't want to be out in the world, shopping or seeing friends. Mainly I just stay close to Mom, in the house.

I did, however, start a painting yesterday. First time I've picked up a brush since early November.

I think people are expecting me to start showing signs of "getting back to normal", but sorry folks, this is the new normal. I have lost so much in my life, and now I've lost the one person who kept me going though all of those losses. The one person I turned to for everything. Dad was only 65 years old, too young to die, to leave Mom and I...

"But how do you thank someone who's taken you from crayons to perfume
It isn't easy but I'll try
If you wanted the sky I would write across the sky in letters that would soar a thousand feet high
To Sir with love.
The time has come for closing books and long last looks must end
And as I leaveI know that I am leaving my best friend
A friend who taught me right from wrong and weak from strong
That's a lot to learn.
What, what can I give you in return
If you wanted the moon I would try to make a start but I would rather you let me give my heart
To Sir with love."

On New Year's Day

2012-01-01T06:27:00.000-08:00

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

--from Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Mom says that Dad kept repeating those lines for weeks leading up to his death, Did he say them for himself...or for me? I've been thinking of getting it tattooed on my back, but then Dad wouldn't like that.

I've found some notes, going through Dad's things. I think he knew he was dying, or that his body was. Some songs he wanted me to put on a CD, for me and for Mom. When I looked up the lyrics, they all mentioned death and dying.

In the last 24 hours of Dad's life, the lines of a poem by Dylan Thomas kept running through my head. I wanted to say, shout, scream them to him. I wonder why I didn't.

"And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light"

***

New Year's Day, not sure of the year, I might have been 11 or 12, was the coldest New Year's on record. Dad drove me in our VW Beetle down to the river at Linden Avenue. The river was frozen. Then we decided to drive downtown to see the Mummer's parade. My first and only time. We weren't prepared for the cold. Dad got me some hot chocolate, and the air was so cold it didn't stay hot for long. We climbed on top of a Bulletin news stand, sat there and watched the parade. On top of that stand, I found a lipstick. Revlon Copperglaze Wine. I kept it and wore it for years.

Years later, when U2 released "New Year's Day" it became another 'Dad and me' song...of which there are many.

I thought of driving to the river today, but I fear it may be too painful.

Muse

2012-01-01T04:49:00.000-08:00

My uncle told me yesterday that I need to paint again. That my Dad was in amazement of my painting.

That was the kindest thing anyone has said. I always wanted to be as artistic and talented as Dad, and wanted his approval of anything I did.

I told him I haven't been able to paint, but I've been writing poetry.

He said "follow the muse, it will lead you where you need to be"

14 days....two weeks

2012-01-01T03:21:00.000-08:00

Today is New Year's Day. My Dad died two weeks ago, on a Sunday morning. Even though the time of death was 8:09 a.m., I know he left his body before that.

When I woke up at 5:30 that day, and came upstairs with Yoko, she started acting strangely. Yoko, on her belly outside my parent's bedroom door, was growling in a way I'd never heard her. And she wouldn't go in to the room. Yoko just kept staring toward my Dad's side of the bed. I tried to calm her, saying it's just Grandmom, but Yoko was unsettled. In those few minutes, I realized, no I felt, that it was my Dad.

I called the hospital and the nurse said my Dad was in very critical condition, they could not stabilize him, and that she believed he would code that day.

As I was getting myself together to go to the hospital, the nurse called and said "you need to get here now" I arrived at the hospital minutes later, in my pajamas.

Within 15 minutes of removing my Dad from the ventilator and meds that were keeping his body alive (the same ventilator and meds that they just started the night before) his heart rate dropped to 0 and he took his last breath. I was on the bed, my head on his chest, my arms around him, telling him over and over that I loved him.

******
Very few people understood my parents, myself, and our relationship. My parents came of age during the 1960s, and I was born in the 1960s to two very young people. I grew up "with" them.

I tell people that I am "a flower child product of a mod and a rocker."

My parents were intelligent, socially aware young people and I was raised to be that way. I was an only child and aside from when my Dad was at work, and later when I was at school, we were always together. My parents were my best friends and my guides.

I only lived apart from them for five years, during my late 20's, but we spoke every day and saw each other during the week.

My Dad devoted himself to me and my Mom. He was always "there".

And now he's not. There is a hole, and emptiness. My life, this house...it's too quiet, too dark, too much nothing. Mom and I pass each other by, sometimes crying, sometimes just blank. We try to comfort each other, support each, hold each other up. But it's not enough.

Mom's parents, and brothers, are dead, as is her best female friend. I know a lot of people, have a few close friends, and while they have all been kind and supportive...it doesn't fill the space that Dad left.

I function for my Mom. To take care of her, and the house, and all the financial things. And for my dog Yoko as well. But I'm not "me" anymore. That left with Dad.

We never did get to take that last walk on the beach in Ocean City.

Grief

2011-12-31T17:41:00.000-08:00

so this is grief
this is what it feels like, tastes like, smells like

steals from you the desire for fresh air, robs you of the want for food, bans you from the joy of sunshine

leaves you empty
a black hole
yet capable of an ocean of wet, salty tears

Words for my Dad

2011-12-31T06:43:00.000-08:00

Following are the words I spoke at the service for my Dad:

Mr. Tambourine Man—Bob Dylan

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship. My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip. My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels to be wanderin'
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade. Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way. I promise to go under it.
****

He was there with me the day I came in to this world, and I was with him when he took his last breath. And every day of my life in between.

Anything that is good in me, any strength I possess, is due to my Dad.

My Dad showed me the world and all of its wonders, even though we only traveled as far as Ocean City.

My love of words, of art and of music, and any talent that I have in those, all came from my Dad.

Dad taught me by example, that integrity was the most valuable attribute of character.

Anyone who knows me, knows my Dad: the person he was, what he stood for and against, and what really mattered to him.

There was never a moment that I doubted Dad’s love for, and of me, and the person I am. He was completely devoted to Mom and I in word, thought and deed. It was always “we three.”

I stand here as the physical, emotional, spiritual and mental melding of the love between John E. and JoAnn.

My name is Lori, but I was always, and will always be known as….John E.’s little girl.

*****
and this is what I wrote in the online guest book of his obituary:

Everything I am, is you.

I don't want obituaries, services, condolences and this awful grief and emptiness. I don't want to see Mommy in such pain and so lost,and to have to take care of everything.

I just want you to come walking though the front door.

--Forever, John E.'s little girl

Nothing

2011-12-31T06:31:00.001-08:00

Looking into the mirror, I see nothing
Lost eyes holding no promise
My physical being vanishing, my spirit went with you
I vomit copious amounts of black, pungent grief. Crying salty tears, dirty as the waste filled ocean.

Moving through each day, doing what needs to be done, and only that, until I have no more for that day, stop and sleep.

Watching her as she fades, more each day that passes. She holds on for me alone, for the immediacy, but not for long.

And when she is gone, only then will I lie in bed, no assistance needed, willing myself dead.

No Point

2011-12-30T09:06:00.000-08:00

I see no point
to keep
'twere not for her
I would cease

Grief is an awful diet

2011-12-25T07:03:00.001-08:00

A week ago today, I lost my Dad. It happened in the ICU, we had to take him off the ventilator that was keeping him alive. I'm doing my best to stay strong and focused for Mom. It's just us now. Dad handled everything for them, so I'm doing that for Mom now.

And I am grieving. A deep, awful, devastating pain. He was my Dad, my rock, my best friend, my guide. I am a lost little girl. I don't want to be out in the world much. I can't look into people's eyes.

It still doesn't seem real at times. Sometimes I'm still expecting him to walk through the front door. Or be sitting in his chair watching TV late at night.

And today is Christmas. People all over the world are celebrating. But not Mom and I. It's a quiet day for us, alone. Mom said, last year when you were running around shopping and celebrating, someone else just lost their Dad and felt the way you do now. I try to be mindful of that. But at the moment, I'm selfish in my grief. I'm the only one who feels this.

I try to get Mom to eat, but most times she doesn't want to. I eat bits here and there, but my stomach is sinking in. I lost about 20lbs after my Grandfather died, even though I wasn't trying. I don't remember how much I lost after Gram died. It's an awful way to lose weight though. I don't recommend it.

Going back to work Tuesday, and nervous about that. Leaving Mom alone, having to go back out into the world, deal with people. Life goes on whether we want it to or not.

I'm trying to not bother my friends today. Let them celebrate and enjoy the day. I don't want to bring anyone down. I know they love me, and are concerned. Tomorrow is another day.

Today

2011-12-13T17:05:00.000-08:00

My father lies in a hospital bed, with a bacterial infection in his lungs that few have ever heard of. He is so weak, and sick, the treatment is so long, and there's no guarantee that it will work.

My Mom is trying to stay strong and hopeful, but she isn't in the best of shape herself.

I'm doing my best...to cope, to care for, to take care of...

Thoughts and Feelings...

2011-12-08T16:55:00.000-08:00

I want to write something funny, or sarcastic. I'd like to be entertaining or even informative. But I'm stuck and I can't.

I have been taking care of my sick father for months now, and it seems he has just given up. He won't eat, stays in bed, and takes too much pain medicine. I've tried talking, crying, screaming. My Mom has tried as well. But there's no effort, no improvement.

He has some medical issues, but they can be dealt with.

I took care of my parents when I was much younger, and they were drinking heavily. I took care of my grandparents at the end of their lives. Now I am caring for my parents.

Since I love my parents, I'll do what I have to. Which now seems like...everything. No more social life, no chance of going back to school. Forget the idea of any kind of love life. I'm not certain I'll even be able to keep working.

Just feeling very low tonight, and thinking about everything I'm losing.

What's wrong with nice?

2011-12-02T15:10:00.000-08:00

When did being nice become a bad thing?

I was brought up under the Golden Rule. Do unto others as you would have them do to you. I've always tried to be kind, fair, and even sweet. That doesn't make me a pushover, or allow people to blatantly walk all over me or hurt anyone I love.

And I have had long relationships with people...lovers, friends. I have heard people speak well of me.

Yet lately, due to some strange and confusing relationships I've had, people have begun telling me that I am "too nice." That I should treat men like dirt so they will treat me like a Queen.

Excuse me?

I don't, and won't ever agree with that statement. While I don't want a lover or a friend who "yes's" me all the time, I wouldn't want to be around someone who likes being treated badly either. There is something wrong with a person like that.

I like who I am and what I stand for. I like being good to people and making them happy. If that means some person with their own issues can't deal with that...then it's THEIR problem, not mine.

So, my door, and heart are open. However, if you need to be treated badly, you may want to visit somewhere else.

Ryan....

2011-11-30T16:51:00.000-08:00

http://www.nbc40.net/news/20013/

Ceasing to exist...

2011-11-28T16:16:00.000-08:00

Although my Dad doesn't have lung cancer as suspected, he is very ill. He isn't able to do much, even the slightest movements exhaust him. He is on many medications, and has quite a few medical conditions.

Instead of things getting better, they seem to be getting progressively worse. Which requires me to focus more on him and his care, and taking care of the things he would normally be doing for himself and my Mom. And whether its due to the meds he's on or the medical conditions, his mind does not always function correctly.

My life is less and less about me, and I have very little time to take care of myself. All of the effort I put into getting myself back together after the years of caring for my Grandparents, and dealing with my own medical issues....well, now it feels like that was all for nothing, and I don't have the energy to maintain it anymore.

I'm still trying, but failing more each day. I'm not able to exercise like I normally would, I'm too exhausted to put the effort into my appearance. I don't have time to talk to friends on the phone, let alone see them or socialize. I'm exhausted most of the time, but I keep going until I pass out and fall asleep.

I can't really make this clear to people. If they haven't lived it, they can't understand it. And I don't have the energy to try to explain everything either.

My hope is that I can get control of the situation to stop myself from falling apart...again.

Hair One, Third Try

2011-11-28T16:08:00.000-08:00

Tried this for the third time on Sunday, as directed, but this time I let my hair air dry. I used a bit of It's a 10 Styling Cream on my ends...and WOW! I love this stuff! My hair is clean, smells great, bouncy, shiny...all the things a girl wants her hair to be!

I can now say that I highly recommend Hair One <3

And the long Thanksgiving weekend ends...

2011-11-27T15:27:00.001-08:00

Christmas shopping is all done, most gifts wrapped. Decorations are up (including the wreath I made last year which I am still quite proud of!) Fridge has been defrosted, people have been fed. House is clean, laundry is finished. Nails are painted, and lunch for work is made.

I don't know how I got it all done in a few days, but I did, and I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep before starting the work week.

Nail fun!

2011-11-27T15:19:00.000-08:00

Since I'm taking a break from painting pictures, I needed to do something creative, right? It's fun actually, although I'm new at it and it takes practice...I can see it becoming addictive <3

Paintings For Sale

2011-11-26T07:10:00.000-08:00

Finally decided to take that big, scary step, and make some of my paintings available for sale. Please let me know if you are interested in any (can be seen in post "Painting a New Life") and I will provide details. Not all paintings are available at this time.

Black Friday

2011-11-25T16:06:00.000-08:00

I don't usually do the Black Friday shopping thing, preferring to leave that to others, but my Goddaughter wanted to get a present for her boyfriend at Franklin Mills, so I decided to join her.

The mall, which is only minutes from my house, opened at midnight, but we chose to wait until late morning. I arrived at the mall around 9:00 a.m. to be pleasantly surprised...it was almost empty! I quickly accomplished most of my gift shopping, then met my Goddaughter and her Mom (my BFF). Did some more shopping, then left around noon to have lunch, which was very enjoyable. First half of my day was first rate!

Arrived home to find that my very ill Dad had some plans that included me. So back out we went...more stores and errands. At this point, so exhausted, and almost unable to deal with the OCD my Dad's medicines are causing in him. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to deal with the changes in him, and the responsibilities his illness have added to my life.

I'm an only child, and Mom doesn't drive. I'm running more errands and taking care of everything around the house. And this is my second go-around with being a care-giver. I took care of my Grandparents at the end of their lives.

Sometimes, I have very intense moments, where I wish I had a gun, could place the cold steel against my head, and pull the trigger.

No, I don't really want to die. And I can't. I can't get sick, or injured, or require surgery. I am solely responsible for the welfare of my parents, and I can't, and won't, let them down. I just needed to "speak" this...how I feel sometimes. So I chose to do it here.

And now, as exhausted as I am, another household project requires my attention...

Hair One, Second Try

2011-11-24T15:49:00.000-08:00

Continuing on with my Hair One (Wen knock-off) experiment...

I hadn't washed my hair for 3 days, and in that time used minimal products: a bit of serum on my ends, and a touch of hairspray at my roots for volume. My hair still felt clean, and was "fluffy"

Today, I used Hair One again, in the shower, as directed. After blotting with a towel, used a small amount of It's a 10 Leave-In on the ends (which are HEAVILY damaged and need some extra help), and used my hair dryer and paddle brush.

Still really liking this! Fluffy, clean hair that is shiny, and my scalp feels soothed, and still not noticing any build-up. And it's so nice to not need separate shampoo and conditioner.

Band Alert!

2011-11-22T17:34:00.000-08:00

Three local bands that you should really check out!

BOSS HYDRO (find them on Facebook, Myspace, Reverb Nation and YouTube)

The Parsnip Revolt (Facebook, Reverb Nation, YouTube and Myspace)

Dirty Electrick (Facebook, YouTube)

Sucked in by the Wenfomercial!

2011-11-21T16:34:00.000-08:00

Yep. I got sucked in. Sort of. That Wen informercial called out to me. Those girls with their shiny, healthy looking hair. The simplicity of it...one product! But, as always, I'm a skeptic and the cost made me doubt even more.

So I did the next best thing. I went to Sally's and bought the knock-off version they sell, called Hair One (catchy, no?) Cost me about $11.00.

A little background first....I have blonde, color-treated, bleached, heat styled, curly-ish hair that is damaged to within an inch of its life. I only wash my hair every other or third day if I can get away with it. I use a few products: It's a 10 Leave-In Conditioner, shine serum and a touch of hairspray.

The first time I used Hair One, I used it while "washing" my hair in the laundry tub. I followed the directions, sort of. I wet my hair, massaged the Hair One in, rinsed and added another pump as a leave-in. I dried my hair with a dryer and brush. While my hair "looked" a bit smoother, it felt like I put a heavy coat of body lotion on it. Felt like that the whole day. Yuck. Decided I hated it.

My friend Trish asked if anyone had tried Wen and what their opinion was, so I told her my experience. After that, I saw the infomerical again, and decided in the name of friendship (and still hoping for a miracle) to try it again.

This morning, I used Hair One in the shower, and followed the ACTUAL directions. Wet hair, massage 3-5 pumps into scalp, then massage 3-5 more pumps into length, add more water, massage some more, then leave it in for 3-5 minutes. (They love that 3-5 thing.) Rinsed my hair, and did NOT add any more.

Dried my hair with a dryer and brush...and.....my hair was smoother! It had body! It felt light and swingy! My scalp felt...healthy! My hair felt like this all day. It still feels good tonight, even after working out.

So that's day one of Hair One (I crack myself up!) I will report back in a few days...

Sunday morning blogging...

2011-11-20T05:29:00.000-08:00

Just some random thoughts as I sit here with my coffee on a Sunday morning...

--I am single, and it's better to claim that then spend another minute pining for a guy who can't or won't see anything past his own immediate self.

--Taking care of parents who may medically and physically need help but are still of somewhat strong mind is very difficult. Many arguments over what to do and how to do it. When they admit I was correct days later, it doesn't take away the aggravation the arguments caused.

--Highly recommend "It's a 10" hair products. The Leave-In Conditioner, Shine Spray and Serum are what leave my hair looking fabulously healthy while being completely weightless in my mass of damaged hair.

--Ceramic, Ionic, Tourmaline....these things actually DO make a difference in heat styling tools for hair. And I never would have believed it until I tried it! And I recommend Jilbere Titanium Tools, available at Sally's

--Be who you are and say what you think. Don't hide yourself because you think someone won't like you. If they don't like who you really are, then it's all make-believe anyway, and it's a hard act to keep up.

--"Pretty in Pink"...is a damn fine thing to be!

--If a small animal loves and trusts you, consider yourself blessed.

--I've taken a break from painting for a bit. I didn't want to burn out, and wanted to concentrate a bit more on writing.

--Most of the things you let yourself get crazy and overwrought about, in the end, turn out not to have been worth all that.

Back in the Bag

2011-11-19T14:11:00.001-08:00

At the moment I have no love life to speak of, or even an object of my affection, so I've decided to venture back to my first loves....handbags, makeup and fashion. These old stand-bys have seen me through so many times in my life where other things and people have let me down.

The other night, while looking through the Coach Factory Sale email for the 10th time, I finally decided on this little beauty! The color and shape are so...."me"! So I pulled the trigger and ordered it. This lovely bag is on its way to me as I type. And I've already started stalking Ebay for a wristlet to match...

I'm Just a Lonely Girl...

2011-11-18T16:28:00.000-08:00

In my life, I have known a lot of people. And I've been friends with all sorts. Even now, with work, lifelong friends, re-connected friends, and Facebook, I'm surrounded by even more people.

But, most times, I feel very alone.

I wanted to be one of those people with a large group of friends who did things together. But most of my friends don't want to associate with each other, so it's usually a one-on-one situation, if it happens at all.

Most nights I find myself at home, doing the same usual things. Wishing that I was out laughing, talking, doing ANYTHING, with other people. During the week, my daytime hours are spent at work. The weekends consist of chores and errands.

I never married, don't have children, and my close friends are either so involved in their own "thing" or aren't geographically close.

So on this Friday night, when I sit here alone again, typing away on this computer, feeling alone...I realize that I don't want the rest of my life to be like this and I need to do something to change it.

And the thinking and planning begin...

Change...is good?

2011-11-15T16:54:00.000-08:00

So here I am again, this place. Feels familar. Not happy where I am, so I need ot start making some changes. I've gotten used to things the way they are. I don't like it, it's just comfortable. But's it not a "good" place, or right for me, so it needs to change. The past few years have brought so many new things, and new people into my life. I've experimented with different "looks" and hobbies. Some of these things have turned out to be keepers...some of the people have left my life, and some things need to change or I'll just stay stuck.

So stay tuned for updates on the changes!

Painting a New Life...

2011-11-15T16:32:00.000-08:00

This year, when my talent for using words to express my feelings, failed me, I turned to painting. Not watercolors, my previous medium, but something new...acrylics. I found a voice I couldn't find in words. I get very excited when I "see" something in my mind and can translate it to canvas. It's a rush, and a thrill, and a comfort! Hope in the Dark

Yellow Tree

Water Lily

Trish's Villa

Stormy

Sheep Treading Water

Pinkness

Morning Glory

Moonlit Beach

Mod Flower

Loves Me Not

Green Man

The Forest of the Shadow People

Fluff

Delaire View

Burning Bush

BOSS HYDRO!!!!!!

2011-04-03T06:55:00.000-07:00

Saturday, April 9th, BOSS HYDRO returns to Redz (formerly Roosevelt's) on the Boulevard in Philadelphia. Special guest performances, and BOSS HYDRO will rock the house as always! Show starts at 9pm. DON'T MISS IT!!!!!!

Pinky...

2011-01-27T12:00:00.000-08:00

Back in the day (the 80s!) I went through a punk period, then a new wave period, and like any good stylista, I had every hair color, natural and unnatural. Lately, I've been missing that crazy girl of my past, and longing to dye my whole head pink.

Well, just recently...I did it! And I LOVE it! I love how wild it makes me feel, love the stares from people, love that it inspires me to be more creative and FUN!!!

I use Manic Panic and Beyond the Zone, combination of Cotton Candy and Bubblehead Pink. My hair is light blonde and I bleached a few pieces for a more vibrant effect. The downside is that it washes out quickly, but it's so easy to do, that I don't really mind the upkeep. I think I'm going to be PINK for awhile!!

Wanna Change My Clothes, My Hair, My Face...

2010-12-06T15:31:00.001-08:00

I am seriously overdue for a makeover!

About a year ago, I put a lot of sweat and hard work into losing 50 pounds that I had gained over years of letting myself go. I had a smaller body but didn't really know how to dress it, so I looked to my teenage Goddaughter for inspiration. I guess that worked for awhile, but I'm a bit older than that, and that "look" is starting to become uncomfortable.

Back before my self-imposed exile, I had a "style"...kinda of funky, but never trashy.

I need to find a new style that incorporates who I am now, without trying to look like a trendy teen.

Guess I'll start with the hair...maybe...LOL! I'll keep you posted :)

Beauty Junkie Favorites

2010-11-21T14:39:00.000-08:00

I have been a Beauty Junkie as long as I can remember. It probably started with my love of the original Herbal Essence shampoo, soon graduating to playing with my Gram's makeup. Due to this obsession, I have tried almost every beauty product on the market: lotions, potions, makeup and hair gunk.

My stash of supplies has been seriously pared down, and I thought I would give you a list of some of my favorite items...

1) Neutrogena Foaming Face Wash: I use this every night, after removing my eye makeup, to cleanse my face. It never strips my skin, removes all traces of makeup, no breakouts or irritation. Have used this since they introduced it.

2) Avon Moisture Effective Eye Makeup Remover Lotion: It's a lotion, it removes heavy eye makeup, doesn't sting or irritate, and it's cheap....'nuff said.

3) Bath and Body Works Shave the Day Shaving Lotion: Would not shave without it! Gives a close shave, and stops those irritating red bumps. Rinses clean, leaves skin soft. (Sometimes very hard to find, so I buy a few tubes at a time.)

4) It's a 10 (hair products): Love the whole line, especially the leave-in conditioner and spray shine. They work!

5) Freeze It Mega Freeze Hair Spray: Holds, not stiff, workable, can reapply throughout the day without hair getting gunky.

6) MAC Powerpoint Eye Pencil: Use this mainly in Engraved (black) and Industry (charcoal), applies smoothly, lasts all day, even on the waterline.

7) MAC Zoom Lash mascara: Can be applied lightly or layered for drama, true black color, no smudging or flaking, lasts until taken off.

8) Benefit Cosmetics Boi-ing Concealer: Works for dark circles, discolorations and blemishes. Comes in a compact, I apply with a brush. Lasts all day.

That's it for now. I'll be throwing more at you another time. If you have any questions about any of these products, email me at hipchick66@aol.com

Cuckoo for Coconut Oil!

2010-11-21T14:21:00.000-08:00

I had heard lots of reports and reviews lately that coconut oil is great for repairing damaged hair, and this weekend I finally tried it for myself.

After researching where to find the suggested extra virgin organic coconut oil, and watching a "how to" on YouTube, I went to GNC, bought a tub, then set out to start the process as soon as I got home.

Washed my hair with a strong shampoo to get all the build-up of product and oil out, then started applying the coconut oil. It's solid in the container, but liquefies in your hands. Applied it all over, wrapped my head in plastic, waited about an hour, then rinsed.

Seems that I should have done a bit more how-to research, because the proper way to do this would be on dry hair, then shampoo after...since it didn't rinse out well, I slept with it in my hair overnight (which can be done on dry hair as well.)

This morning, I shampooed, used my regular conditioner and leave-in products, dried my hair, waiting to see results.

Because I am a "beauty junkie" I have tried almost every product to have ever hit the market, and honestly, I am not easily impressed. Well, color me very impressed! After only one application, I am AMAZED at the improvement in my hair! I have very dry, damaged hair that requires lots of product to make it look healthy and shiny. Today, with very little effort, I have a head full of soft, shiny, full of volume blonde hair with gorgeous waves and curls...

I don't know if I would suggest this for someone with healthy or mildly damaged hair, as it may be too heavy, but anyone who bleaches, uses a dryer or other hot styling tool on a regular basis...please try this...you will be pleasantly surprised!

Sunday morning

2010-10-24T07:44:00.000-07:00

Don't mind me
Just finding my way
Was a bit lost
Haven't been around for awhile
Everything is so different
New
My past experiences
Don't seem to fit here
Have to work this all out
Takes a little time

**************************

Shedding my skin
Cracking
Peeling the layers
Discarding the bruises
Surface wounds

The Ex...

2010-10-24T07:17:00.000-07:00

So, my ex wants me back. You know, the ONE, the guy who I spent five years of my life with, and lots of years getting over...yep, that one. There was a time, I was so in love with him, so sure that I never wanted to be with anyone else. Would have married him, had he asked.

But he hurt me, so badly that I didn't let anyone near me for years.

Let me go back....

Our relationship was not the stuff of romance novels, more like Penthouse Letters. It was based on sexual attraction. Sure, he made me laugh, we had fun, but we were addicted to the chemistry between us. We really had nothing in common. He is five years younger than me, not what anyone would call intelligent, educated or even knows what "cultured" means.

BIG roller coaster, very volatile. He cheated, a lot. The final straw, he cheated and she got pregnant. As I was being prepped for a hysterectomy to save my life, she was giving birth to his son. Relationship over.

My family, friends, were all very relieved. All the drama and heartache were over. They never thought he was good enough for me. My Uncle told my Mom "Get her away from him, he's a serious asshole."

It took me years to see all of this for myself. I believed it was real love. I was devastated when we broke up. Crushed. Slowly, over time, I saw the truth.

Then finally, I let someone else in. Someone who didn't make me feel like his personal "blow-up doll", someone mentally on my level, who likes the same obscure things I do. I realized, that what I really wanted did, in fact, exist. Unfortunately, he didn't want to take the relationship where I wanted it to go, so we aren't together. We're friends, or something like that.

I know now, that I can't settle for less anymore. So no, Ex, we won't be getting back together. I'm not playing hard to get. You just don't get me.

The Wanting, the Waiting, the Loss...

2010-10-13T16:35:00.001-07:00

Did you ever want something so bad that it almost consumed you?

That something, whatever it is, comes out of nowhere. You had no idea it even existed until that moment, then, there it is, all shiny and sparkly and capturing your attention. And it starts out innocently enough. You think "Hey, that's neat, I think I like that."

Time passes, days go by, then weeks. By now, you are becoming consumed with the idea of having that thing. It's so close, but just out of your reach. Maybe you want it more because of that...it's not easily attainable.

The obssession begins. You think about it all the time. Your friends, who at first were more than happy to hear you go on about it, are now tiring of hearing your latest thoughts on the matter. They no longer have advice to give, nor do they want to spend countless hours hearing about your aching for it.

You know yourself, this isn't good, that you need to give up on this thing. It's too much work! It's not right for you! Yet...you continue. Against the odds, against good counsel, against your own instinct.

Doing everything you can, which is sometimes nothing, you wait.

And wait.

Then one day, you start to realize, you are never going to have it. Ever. Not in the way you want it. You feel a loss of something you never really had.

You have to make peace with this, and through a lot of effort, that starts to happen. Slowly, you begin thinking of other things you might like. Or focus your attention on something else, something you have control over. And that works, sort of...for awhile.

All it takes, at this tender stage, is a word, a picture, a stiff breeze...anything can remind you of it, and you feel the tug. It pulls you back in.

This process can be repeated for days, weeks months. For some, years or an entire lifetime.

You forge ahead, trying to put it behind you. And if you're very lucky, you do.

Hopefully...you don't repeat the process with the next shiny and sparkly thing.

Boots...where the trouble began

2010-09-30T06:41:00.000-07:00

White, shiny, slightly crinkly. How I lusted (as much as a 4 year old girl can) over them. My Mom, the ever fashionable mod chick, had a pair. She wore them with stockings, short skirts, sometimes pants, and teased hair.

We would walk up to the shopping center, and as we neared the shoe store, my steps would quicken, as would my breathing. The begging would start..."Mommy, please, please, can I have a pair of those boots?" I would press my face against the store window, staring lovingly at the object of my affection...racks of white vinyl go go boots.

Mom (did I mention how fashionable she was?) would pull me away from the window and explain that no, I couldn't have them because they were "over" and only "housewives in 'too short' bell bottoms" were wearing them now.

I like to tell Mom that all of the issues I've had in my life started with my being denied those boots.

As a child of the 60s with young parents, I was obsessed with all things pop culture. Music! Fashion! Dancing! My first crush was Peter Tork of the Monkees. When asked what I wanted to do when I grew up, my response was "I want to dance in a cage like on TV!"

I idolized Nancy Sinatra, and dreamed of the day when my boots would be walking all over some guy.

And Emma Peel of "The Avengers"...black, thigh high boots. Could there be anything more powerful and sexy?

So began my love of boots and the idea that they would make me all the things I wanted to be: wild, tough, powerful, sexy, and in control. I have owned, and loved, all styles of boots from casual Uggs to thigh high black leather. Each pair has a story, and are worn for whatever mood I happen to be in at that moment.

The pair I've never owned? White, vinyl go go boots. But I know, someday, when that elusive pair of boots is finally mine...all will be right and life will be perfect!

Missed Spellings

2010-09-30T04:45:00.000-07:00

Spelling was one of my best and favorite subjects in grade school, due in part to my Dad handing me my very first dictionary when I was three years old, and expecting me to READ it. I realize not everyone has the same love for words that I do, and some people just aren't "good spellers" by nature.

However, one of my biggest pet peeves is when a misspelling of a word becomes so rampant that the misspelling actually becomes acceptable!

Case in point: Rediculous

Look at that word! It's...it's just ridiculous!

I have seen "rediculous" all over the web...on sites, in blogs. I've seen it in emails and text messages.

Maybe it's due to people mispronouncing the word...REEdiculous, as opposed to the proper pronunciation, but that doesn't excuse the use of the misspelling.

Friends, don't let friends be REDICULOUS!

The Dangers of Texting (and it's not what you think)

2010-09-28T18:33:00.000-07:00

There are plenty of articles and news stories (maybe even an after school special), about the dangers of texting while driving, mostly targeting teens, but those aren't the dangers I'm addressing here.

I am referring to the breakdown of real communication between two people when texting becomes the foremost means of expressing themselves.

Texting is a useful tool for messages such as "on my way" or "have a good day". Statements that cannot be misconstrued in any way. Direct questions, such as "do we need milk?" are other acceptable uses for texting.

However, attempting to have a conversation, especially an emotionally charged one, via texting, is a recipe for disaster. You can't get the tone of a statement, words can be taken other than their intended meaning, and what starts as a minor disagreement can turn into a full blown war that ends in hurt feelings and sleepless nights.

Moral of the story: dial a phone number and SPEAK to someone (just don't do it while driving!)

Welcome to the Jungle

2010-09-27T17:53:00.000-07:00

Here it is kids, brand new and improved! Upon the urging of friends, I've decided to bring my blog back to life. On this page you'll find bits of this and that, as well as updates on the drama that is my life, and my musings on various subjects.

Names may be changed to protect the innocent, or just to save my own ass from recriminations!

If you look to the right, you'll see a band logo and a boutique address...please check them out! I'll add more "shout outs" as time goes on.

Thank you, and please check back often!