A year ago today on Oct 16, 2008 is when I found out my dad had cancer. It was the same day my company's new laptops came out. It's weird how I associate these two. It also sucks because every time I see one I literally see the words DADDY HAS CANCER flashing across the screen.
His journey with cancer started off as a misdiagnosis of ACID REFLUX ! Way to go Doc. Last summer he had trouble swallowing and would often get what we call the "vurps" and wasn't feeling too great. The doctor told him to keep taking his Prilosec. Yea. Good call. He then went in for a stress test and numbers were elevated or something so they said HEART ATTACK ...and sent him in an ambulance to the local hospital (which doubles as a building full of no useful info whatsoever). Wherein this building they did no MRI / Cat Scan , nothing but an EKG, and OH MY !! No signs of cardiac arrest.
Gregory and I finally talked him into going to see a different doctor, and that's when they found the esophageal cancer. Stage 3. Invasive. 8 to 18 months with chemo. Today marks a year since I heard those words from my mother, standing in a parking lot where they had come by work to tell me what they didn't want to tell me over the phone. One year since my father's eyes hid behind the same brand of sunglasses that we have both had on while we held each other silently, each one of us fighting off the tears harder than the other. So alike, he and I. I am my father's daughter. One year and my daddy is still alive. Alive, but not well.
I can see where the cancer has taken it's toll. He has lost and gained weight, he has lost hair. He tires easily. I usually find him in his recliner, either reading or sleeping. A week or so ago I went down to do the fall hedge trimming and other assorted chores that Gregory and I would always help him do. Except this year I did it all myself. My mom helped by doing some raking, but she's almost 68 years old and can only do so much herself before tiring. She told me after about 30 minutes of work that my dad was inside crying because he couldn't help his daughter. I don't think I could have pierced my heart with the gas hedge trimmer I was wielding and made it hurt more than knowing that my daddy was crying. I managed to cover up my sobs with the whine of the trimmer and soaked up the tears on my gloves.
Mom, there's some things I don't need to know.
When I found out my dad had cancer, I was stunned. I left work early and went straight home to Gregory , who I told face to face and then we held each other and cried for just a minute until he said "Pops is strong, he will beat this and we have to be strong for him." He was devastated. He loved my dad and felt closer to him than he did his own, who was abusive to him in so many ways. He once told my dad that he never had a father, and asked him to be the one he never had. Sure, they didn't always get along, I mean really?? What daddy get's on with his #1 girl's man 100% of the time? But oh how G loved my daddy, and I was so happy that finally the two men in my life were on the same page.
I did some grieving of my own, but I try to put on a brave happy face when I am around my dad. I go to his doctor's appointments, but sometimes he wants me to leave the room when the doctor comes in to talk to us. I understand, he just wants to protect his baby.
So I kept moving through life, working, taking care of my husband and stepson, helping my parents with things that needed doing, and talking to my mom and dad 2-3 times a day and googling and web-md'ing what I could find about esophageal cancer.
And then my Gregory died.
And the little part of my life that the cancer grief had wedged itself into exploded. Then imploded.
I am grieving the death of my husband. My husband was a recovering / non-recovering alcoholic. The contents of a bottle of vodka were too strong for him to resist. A little fall , a black eye , him walking around laughing and goofing with me as usual? That turned into a slow bleed that killed him after he was fine for several days. The doctors call it "talk and die" syndrome. His liver was so messed up his blood wouldn't clot. Type 2 diabetes didn't help. So he died. And part of me went with him and I will never, ever be the same.
I am grieving the impending death of my father. There is no cure. There is no hope. The man smoked for 50 years. He got cancer. The cigarettes that he loved are coming back in the form of cancerous cells that are killing him. And I am scared to death to lose my daddy.
But I think I'm scared for me too. I'm scared that I have poured so much of myself into grieving for Gregory that I haven't given myself the time or space to deal with the fact that my daddy is going to die.
And then it's just me and my mom. And what is she gonna do? That's gonna leave me as the strong one. The one who handles things. The one.
I don't want to be the one.
I want to be Kim.
I want my husband.
I want my daddy.
I want my life back.
I haven't done anything wrong.
I thought cruel and unusual punishment was against our constitution.
I thought double jeopardy wasn't allowed.
I want my pardon.
I want my happy ending.
Showing posts with label Gregory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gregory. Show all posts
Friday
Saturday
Shared paths.....
"I will not fail you, my love. I will continue on the path we shared and I know you will be there to help me, as you always were. And when we meet again at the journey’s end, and we laugh together once more, I will have a thousand things to tell you."
-Unknown
Tuesday
What a week...
I am very conflicted about this week.
I will feel happy, sad, guilty, every emotion you can think of.
In this week, my parents will celebrate their 42nd wedding anniversary.
I will turn 40 , and celebrate with friends on the 5 month mark of the death of my beloved.
The dog that Gregory wanted so badly and is such a comfort to me now will be a year old on Saturday.
I'm excited to see my friends, but I'm also mad.
I'm mad that I'm not checking into the all-inclusive resort with Gregory to celebrate my birthday.
I feel guilty about celebrating getting another year older when he will never have another birthday , ever.
I'm jealous of my parent's having the luck to spend 42 years with the person they love when I will never have that, but so happy and proud of them at the same time. And I feel guilt for the jealousy.
I'm sad because this will probably be the last one they will celebrate before the effing gd s-o-b cancer takes my Daddy away forever.
And I'm scared because I don't know if I can take losing my husband and my daddy, and I don't know if I'll be able to be strong enough to help my mom.
And even though I'm excited and tweeting about #kimberday and all that, deep down?
I'm terrified.
And the one person who could make it all better is never. coming. back.
And I'm mad as hell about it.
I will feel happy, sad, guilty, every emotion you can think of.
In this week, my parents will celebrate their 42nd wedding anniversary.
I will turn 40 , and celebrate with friends on the 5 month mark of the death of my beloved.
The dog that Gregory wanted so badly and is such a comfort to me now will be a year old on Saturday.
I'm excited to see my friends, but I'm also mad.
I'm mad that I'm not checking into the all-inclusive resort with Gregory to celebrate my birthday.
I feel guilty about celebrating getting another year older when he will never have another birthday , ever.
I'm jealous of my parent's having the luck to spend 42 years with the person they love when I will never have that, but so happy and proud of them at the same time. And I feel guilt for the jealousy.
I'm sad because this will probably be the last one they will celebrate before the effing gd s-o-b cancer takes my Daddy away forever.
And I'm scared because I don't know if I can take losing my husband and my daddy, and I don't know if I'll be able to be strong enough to help my mom.
And even though I'm excited and tweeting about #kimberday and all that, deep down?
I'm terrified.
And the one person who could make it all better is never. coming. back.
And I'm mad as hell about it.
Sunday
Sunday Song......
Here's our Sunday song that G would sing to me as we made breakfast, had our mimosas or took a boat ride. Sometimes he would just grab me and dance around the room while he sang it.....oh I miss you so.......
Monday
4 months
Today is the 20th. According to the calendar, it's been 4 months.
According to the calendar, 4 months ago today I had to make the decision to take my best friend, my husband, my lover, my pal, my best sparring partner, my everything, my heart, off of life support. And even though we talked about it just like all couples do because we thought it would never happen to us, it happened.
According to the calendar, it did. And I'm mad and sad and all messed up and filled with something that I don't have a name for but that is now a part of me that I don't want. I want my husband. I want my friend. I want my life back.
According to the calendar, I have been a widow for 4 months.
If you went by my heart and mind, it's been a lifetime.
I miss you G.
I have you in my heart.
According to the calendar, 4 months ago today I had to make the decision to take my best friend, my husband, my lover, my pal, my best sparring partner, my everything, my heart, off of life support. And even though we talked about it just like all couples do because we thought it would never happen to us, it happened.
According to the calendar, it did. And I'm mad and sad and all messed up and filled with something that I don't have a name for but that is now a part of me that I don't want. I want my husband. I want my friend. I want my life back.
According to the calendar, I have been a widow for 4 months.
If you went by my heart and mind, it's been a lifetime.
I miss you G.
I have you in my heart.
But I want you here with me.
Saturday
20th
Three months. Damm.
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind,
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott Holland
1847-1915
Canon of St. Paul’s Cathedral
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort,
without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind,
because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.
All is well.
Henry Scott Holland
1847-1915
Canon of St. Paul’s Cathedral
Tuesday
Where the sidewalk ends.......
I hope the sidewalk never ends, and I hope that I find it's path one day. And I hope that someone is waiting for me on that sidewalk. And I hope he's wearing my pink crocs.....
Where the Sidewalk Ends
There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.
Shel Silverstein
Where the Sidewalk Ends
There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.
Shel Silverstein
Saturday
Hockey pucks
“How do you feel?”
Someone asked me that today. Well intentioned. But I hate that question.
I answered with my usual “OK” and smiled. HA ! Got by that one….
But really, I don’t know how I feel. Not regularly. I can give you ten second increments, but who knows what memory or feeling is lurking around the next thought in my head?? And that damn Lecter fella is always floating around somewhere like a bad fart.
Actually, I feel like a hockey puck. I’ve been dropped, stepped on, kicked, and I go from heretothereandtheretohere with the intensity of what feels like someone smacking me with a stick.
Take today. I had a fairly decent morning and a short pleasurably easy shift at work. I was looking forward to watching the Belmont on DVR and I purposefully stayed away from Twitter, Facebook and the interwebz in general so I wouldn’t know the outcome. Then I got off work.
I got in the car, cranked up and started heading home. And HEY there that bad fart was !! I literally had to stop in the parking lot, repark and regain my composure so I could drive. Then I cried all the way home. WTF? Really?
Yes, really. I managed to make it home, calmed myself , took a hot bath and watched the race. That helped.
Now I’m blogging. I’m sure it’s getting tedious listening to me whine about my life in between highs of baseball and shopping, but it is what it is.
I am a hockey puck. All black and dark and bouncing around this life when I would like to be doing nothing better than just hanging out with bright shiny hot pink hockey pucks that live a bright and shiny happy pink hockey puck life.
But I’ll play this game Lecter. And in the end, I’ll beat you.
Someone asked me that today. Well intentioned. But I hate that question.
I answered with my usual “OK” and smiled. HA ! Got by that one….
But really, I don’t know how I feel. Not regularly. I can give you ten second increments, but who knows what memory or feeling is lurking around the next thought in my head?? And that damn Lecter fella is always floating around somewhere like a bad fart.
Actually, I feel like a hockey puck. I’ve been dropped, stepped on, kicked, and I go from heretothereandtheretohere with the intensity of what feels like someone smacking me with a stick.
Take today. I had a fairly decent morning and a short pleasurably easy shift at work. I was looking forward to watching the Belmont on DVR and I purposefully stayed away from Twitter, Facebook and the interwebz in general so I wouldn’t know the outcome. Then I got off work.
I got in the car, cranked up and started heading home. And HEY there that bad fart was !! I literally had to stop in the parking lot, repark and regain my composure so I could drive. Then I cried all the way home. WTF? Really?
Yes, really. I managed to make it home, calmed myself , took a hot bath and watched the race. That helped.
Now I’m blogging. I’m sure it’s getting tedious listening to me whine about my life in between highs of baseball and shopping, but it is what it is.
I am a hockey puck. All black and dark and bouncing around this life when I would like to be doing nothing better than just hanging out with bright shiny hot pink hockey pucks that live a bright and shiny happy pink hockey puck life.
But I’ll play this game Lecter. And in the end, I’ll beat you.
Thursday
Baseball !!!!
Baseball !! I know, a lot of yall think it's boooooring and slooooow. It can be.
But it can also be fun and awesome and exciting and just, just SQUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!
I remember watching baseball with my Papaw when we finally got cable and the Cubs were on WGN Channel 9 !! Man the Cubbies and the Yankees were my team !! Still are ! Back in the day .....Ron Santo, Harry Caray, Ernie Banks, Ryne Sandberg, Mark Grace, Rick Sutcliffe, even The Penguin Ron Cey at third .....and Bucky Dent, Ron Guidry, Catfish Hunter, Lou Piniella and so many Yankees !! When I was home in the summer, if I wasn't outside playing, I was watching baseball .
I always had trouble with math, so my Papaw had me do statistics for each game I watched to help me with it. I recorded every single thing that happened on that field, and had a few notebooks full by the time summer was over. He saved every one. I wish I knew where they are now.
Gregory took me to see the Yankees a few years ago....it was his FIRST major league game, ever. And he picked a doozy - Yankees vs. Red Sox !! I still haven't figured out how he got the tickets. But we had so much fun, and he loved it ! Somewhere I have pics of us at Yankee stadium.....but this was a few hours before the game on the Empire State Building...and as many times as he had been to NYC he had never been there , and it was so fun seeing thru his eyes !
So yesterday I got all excited and took myself to Atlanta to see my precious Cubbies take on the Braves. I not be liking the Braves. Never have. I'm a Cubs and Yankees girl, oh and I pull for the Phillies a bit cause of G's Philly connection.
I road tripped over, stopped at Mellow Mushroom to eat, which is one of Gregory and my favorite places and where we have spent many an afternoon and nights after Auburn football games !! Actually, Mellow Mushroom in Auburn is where we had our first kiss!!
And yes, he was with me.......as always....
Then I went to Trader Joes in midtown ATL for the fist time. OMG !! I am totally hooked on that place now. I bought all sorts of delightful treats and a CASE of their awesome wine....known as "two buck chuck". Actually it's like $2.79 a bottle but honestly? It's like the best wine ever. Upon my return I will be buying SEVERAL cases!! Bootlegger !
First time at Turner Field and the place is pretty nice. I had a great seat, took lots of pictures and paid $15 for a long island ice tea. After the shock wore off I switched back to draft beer. And of course I had a hot dog....
And then, IT RAINED ! For two and a half hours. &#%@$!^!)# You should have heard what I was really saying.
Oh was I pissed. I ended up leaving after about two hours because I just knew there was no way this game was going to be played. Oh sure there will be a raincheck game I can go back to but damn I wasjustsoexcitedforthisgame !! I squueeed for pete's sake ! About an hour or so after I left I heard that they ad called off the game. So at least I got a headstart on traffic.
On the way out I stopped at the ticket office and bought myself a ticket for the Braves / Yankees game June 24th. IN THE SECOND ROW BEHIND HOME PLATE !!! Apparently going alone does have it's perks....single seats are easier to get !!
So all in all it was a baseball bust, but I'm glad I went and literally CANNOT WAIT for June 24th to get here.....I will definitely be squeeeing all over myself.
But it can also be fun and awesome and exciting and just, just SQUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!
I remember watching baseball with my Papaw when we finally got cable and the Cubs were on WGN Channel 9 !! Man the Cubbies and the Yankees were my team !! Still are ! Back in the day .....Ron Santo, Harry Caray, Ernie Banks, Ryne Sandberg, Mark Grace, Rick Sutcliffe, even The Penguin Ron Cey at third .....and Bucky Dent, Ron Guidry, Catfish Hunter, Lou Piniella and so many Yankees !! When I was home in the summer, if I wasn't outside playing, I was watching baseball .
I always had trouble with math, so my Papaw had me do statistics for each game I watched to help me with it. I recorded every single thing that happened on that field, and had a few notebooks full by the time summer was over. He saved every one. I wish I knew where they are now.
Gregory took me to see the Yankees a few years ago....it was his FIRST major league game, ever. And he picked a doozy - Yankees vs. Red Sox !! I still haven't figured out how he got the tickets. But we had so much fun, and he loved it ! Somewhere I have pics of us at Yankee stadium.....but this was a few hours before the game on the Empire State Building...and as many times as he had been to NYC he had never been there , and it was so fun seeing thru his eyes !
So yesterday I got all excited and took myself to Atlanta to see my precious Cubbies take on the Braves. I not be liking the Braves. Never have. I'm a Cubs and Yankees girl, oh and I pull for the Phillies a bit cause of G's Philly connection.
I road tripped over, stopped at Mellow Mushroom to eat, which is one of Gregory and my favorite places and where we have spent many an afternoon and nights after Auburn football games !! Actually, Mellow Mushroom in Auburn is where we had our first kiss!!
And yes, he was with me.......as always....
Then I went to Trader Joes in midtown ATL for the fist time. OMG !! I am totally hooked on that place now. I bought all sorts of delightful treats and a CASE of their awesome wine....known as "two buck chuck". Actually it's like $2.79 a bottle but honestly? It's like the best wine ever. Upon my return I will be buying SEVERAL cases!! Bootlegger !
First time at Turner Field and the place is pretty nice. I had a great seat, took lots of pictures and paid $15 for a long island ice tea. After the shock wore off I switched back to draft beer. And of course I had a hot dog....
And then, IT RAINED ! For two and a half hours. &#%@$!^!)# You should have heard what I was really saying.
Oh was I pissed. I ended up leaving after about two hours because I just knew there was no way this game was going to be played. Oh sure there will be a raincheck game I can go back to but damn I wasjustsoexcitedforthisgame !! I squueeed for pete's sake ! About an hour or so after I left I heard that they ad called off the game. So at least I got a headstart on traffic.
On the way out I stopped at the ticket office and bought myself a ticket for the Braves / Yankees game June 24th. IN THE SECOND ROW BEHIND HOME PLATE !!! Apparently going alone does have it's perks....single seats are easier to get !!
So all in all it was a baseball bust, but I'm glad I went and literally CANNOT WAIT for June 24th to get here.....I will definitely be squeeeing all over myself.
Friday
Ooops.
Guess I'd better be buying a ninja suit and a shovel with a non-reflective handle. Hee hee.
Section 13A-7-23.1
Desecration, defacement, etc., of memorial of dead; invasion or mutilation of corpse.
(a) Any person who willfully or maliciously injures, defaces, removes or destroys any tomb, monument, gravestone or other memorial of the dead, or any fence or any inclosure about any tomb, monument, gravestone or memorial, or who willfully and wrongfully destroys, removes, cuts, breaks or injures any tree, shrub, plant, flower, decoration, or other real or personal property within any cemetery or graveyard shall be guilty of a Class A misdemeanor.
(b) Any person who willfully or maliciously desecrates, injures, defaces, removes, or destroys any tomb, monument, structure, or container of human remains, and invades or mutilates the human corpse or remains shall be guilty of a Class C felony and upon conviction the person shall be punished as provided by law. Any person who maliciously desecrates an American Indian place of burial or funerary objects on property not owned by the person shall be guilty of a Class C felony and upon conviction the person shall be punished as provided by law.
(c) The provisions of subsections (a) and (b) of this section shall not apply to any person holding a permit issued by the Alabama Historical Commission pursuant to subsection (d) of this section.
(d) The Alabama Historical Commission, to provide for the lawful preservation, investigation, restoration, or relocation of human burial remains, human skeletal remains, or funerary objects, shall promulgate rules and regulations for the issuance of a permit and may issue a permit to persons or companies who seek to restore, preserve or relocate human burial remains, human skeletal remains, funerary objects, or otherwise disturb, a place of burial.
(Acts 1980, No. 80-706, p. 1424; Acts 1993, No. 93-770, §1; Acts 1993, 1st Ex. Sess., No. 93-905, p. 201, §1.)
Section 13A-7-23.1
Desecration, defacement, etc., of memorial of dead; invasion or mutilation of corpse.
(a) Any person who willfully or maliciously injures, defaces, removes or destroys any tomb, monument, gravestone or other memorial of the dead, or any fence or any inclosure about any tomb, monument, gravestone or memorial, or who willfully and wrongfully destroys, removes, cuts, breaks or injures any tree, shrub, plant, flower, decoration, or other real or personal property within any cemetery or graveyard shall be guilty of a Class A misdemeanor.
(b) Any person who willfully or maliciously desecrates, injures, defaces, removes, or destroys any tomb, monument, structure, or container of human remains, and invades or mutilates the human corpse or remains shall be guilty of a Class C felony and upon conviction the person shall be punished as provided by law. Any person who maliciously desecrates an American Indian place of burial or funerary objects on property not owned by the person shall be guilty of a Class C felony and upon conviction the person shall be punished as provided by law.
(c) The provisions of subsections (a) and (b) of this section shall not apply to any person holding a permit issued by the Alabama Historical Commission pursuant to subsection (d) of this section.
(d) The Alabama Historical Commission, to provide for the lawful preservation, investigation, restoration, or relocation of human burial remains, human skeletal remains, or funerary objects, shall promulgate rules and regulations for the issuance of a permit and may issue a permit to persons or companies who seek to restore, preserve or relocate human burial remains, human skeletal remains, funerary objects, or otherwise disturb, a place of burial.
(Acts 1980, No. 80-706, p. 1424; Acts 1993, No. 93-770, §1; Acts 1993, 1st Ex. Sess., No. 93-905, p. 201, §1.)
Wednesday
Thursday
Normal?
Today my mind is kind of in a whirl. Accompanied along by my stomach. And my nerves.
Tonight I am going to my cousin's rehearsal dinner. I will be seeing friends and family that I haven't seen in awhile. Many of them couldn't make it to the funeral , and I basically told them not to worry about it anyway. I was in a fog then and pretty much didn't give a damn about anything except the fact that my husband was dead and I was pretty damn pissed about it.
I love, love , love my cousin and his brother. I could not be closer to them than if they were my own children. We have been an integral part of each other's lives since they were born...I was the "baby" of the family til Ryan came along, and I instantly fell in love with he and his younger brother Kyle. (YES, I had a mullet! It was the 80's for crying out loud!)
They are the ones who graced me with my family nickname, "Kimbo". They couldn't say Kimberly, so it came out "Kimbo". When my brother got married I was a bridesmaid, and as soon as I hit the aisle in the church, Ryan started screaming "Kimbo Kimbo Kimbo!!" He wouldn't stop until I came back and got him and held him throughout the ceremony. I think he was close to two then and I was maybe thirteen.
Kyle came to the funeral. When I saw him I fell apart. Ryan is coming in from Nashville where he is still pursuing a music career. I'll never forget telling Gregory when Ryan made it to Hollywood week on American Idol...he acted like a giddy fan, and told everyone "his cousin" was on AI. That was so awesome. But I know as soon as I see Ryan I will be having a come-apart. I don't want to, this is about Kyle and Kristen, but I don't know if I can be strong enough when I see my two babies, who are now young men.
And I dread the stream of people who will hopefully not ask me how I'm doing. I don't want to have to lie, but I can't tell them the truth either. My dad says I should just say "thanks for asking , but I don't want to talk about it." But I'm afraid I'll come off as a heartless bitch. Rude ! *sigh*
Then I have to repeat this all over again Saturday, but instead of 100 people at a rehearsal dinner, it'll be a 400 person wedding. Help me.
I think that people that are grieving should be put in quarantine for like 6 months, so that we don't have to go on like things are normal. Cause they will never be normal again.
I better go get ready.
Tonight I am going to my cousin's rehearsal dinner. I will be seeing friends and family that I haven't seen in awhile. Many of them couldn't make it to the funeral , and I basically told them not to worry about it anyway. I was in a fog then and pretty much didn't give a damn about anything except the fact that my husband was dead and I was pretty damn pissed about it.
I love, love , love my cousin and his brother. I could not be closer to them than if they were my own children. We have been an integral part of each other's lives since they were born...I was the "baby" of the family til Ryan came along, and I instantly fell in love with he and his younger brother Kyle. (YES, I had a mullet! It was the 80's for crying out loud!)
They are the ones who graced me with my family nickname, "Kimbo". They couldn't say Kimberly, so it came out "Kimbo". When my brother got married I was a bridesmaid, and as soon as I hit the aisle in the church, Ryan started screaming "Kimbo Kimbo Kimbo!!" He wouldn't stop until I came back and got him and held him throughout the ceremony. I think he was close to two then and I was maybe thirteen.
Kyle came to the funeral. When I saw him I fell apart. Ryan is coming in from Nashville where he is still pursuing a music career. I'll never forget telling Gregory when Ryan made it to Hollywood week on American Idol...he acted like a giddy fan, and told everyone "his cousin" was on AI. That was so awesome. But I know as soon as I see Ryan I will be having a come-apart. I don't want to, this is about Kyle and Kristen, but I don't know if I can be strong enough when I see my two babies, who are now young men.
And I dread the stream of people who will hopefully not ask me how I'm doing. I don't want to have to lie, but I can't tell them the truth either. My dad says I should just say "thanks for asking , but I don't want to talk about it." But I'm afraid I'll come off as a heartless bitch. Rude ! *sigh*
Then I have to repeat this all over again Saturday, but instead of 100 people at a rehearsal dinner, it'll be a 400 person wedding. Help me.
I think that people that are grieving should be put in quarantine for like 6 months, so that we don't have to go on like things are normal. Cause they will never be normal again.
I better go get ready.
Wednesday
Impact
Impact. That's what we discussed last night in grief counseling, or as I refer to it -"widow school."
The impact the death our loved one had on us. The impact of the illness, the dying, the finding out, the funeral,etc,etc. Everyone has a different impact, even though so many of our circumstances are the same.
I have impacts from it everyday. I call them aftershocks. Yesterday, I opened a drawer in the kitchen and the knob came off in my hand. I've been asking G to fix that damn knob for 6 months. That little aftershock produced a wave of grief that sent me to the kitchen floor for a good 20 minutes. Then I got up and went to work.
At work, someone told me I was strong and that I was a rock at Gregory's funeral. I guess I was. I wasn't medicated, I wasn't anything. I think I was just in shock. I'm a rock alright, when you can see me. When you can't I'm like a big blubbering grief sponge. As another blogger recently said about himself, I can grieve like a Ninja.
I think that's why I feel so odd at this group. Some people can't even talk without crying or just bursting into sobs. I'll admit I did tear up a bit last night, but so far I haven't cried or anything. And it's not that I can't....I do. I just do it with me. I'm scared of the day that I can't control it anymore.
But even though my aftershocks are often and devastating now, the lasting impact that Gregory had on my life will never go away...
*Love
*Happiness
*Smiles
*great memories
*comfort
*self-confidence
Thank you baby for every second we had,even through the bad, we came back to the good. Thank you for having an everlasting impact on my life. Thank you. I love you.
The impact the death our loved one had on us. The impact of the illness, the dying, the finding out, the funeral,etc,etc. Everyone has a different impact, even though so many of our circumstances are the same.
I have impacts from it everyday. I call them aftershocks. Yesterday, I opened a drawer in the kitchen and the knob came off in my hand. I've been asking G to fix that damn knob for 6 months. That little aftershock produced a wave of grief that sent me to the kitchen floor for a good 20 minutes. Then I got up and went to work.
At work, someone told me I was strong and that I was a rock at Gregory's funeral. I guess I was. I wasn't medicated, I wasn't anything. I think I was just in shock. I'm a rock alright, when you can see me. When you can't I'm like a big blubbering grief sponge. As another blogger recently said about himself, I can grieve like a Ninja.
I think that's why I feel so odd at this group. Some people can't even talk without crying or just bursting into sobs. I'll admit I did tear up a bit last night, but so far I haven't cried or anything. And it's not that I can't....I do. I just do it with me. I'm scared of the day that I can't control it anymore.
But even though my aftershocks are often and devastating now, the lasting impact that Gregory had on my life will never go away...
*Love
*Happiness
*Smiles
*great memories
*comfort
*self-confidence
Thank you baby for every second we had,even through the bad, we came back to the good. Thank you for having an everlasting impact on my life. Thank you. I love you.
Monday
Ssssss.......
So, yesterday was Mother's Day. I went to the lake to see my parents, and we enjoyed some fried catfish, hush puppies and all of the fixin's. Nom Nom Nom. Then we played cards for awhile, and the sun broke out so I decided to go for a swim.
Unfortunately, I wasn't alone.
Eeeeek !! Usually we find them in the trap, but this little devil was just swimming around like no one's business.....and it's a salt water pool !!
Unfortunately, one snake's mom had an unhappy mother's day because he is no longer with us. I hate Gregory missed this because he would have been squealing like a little girl, and probably on my shoulders by that point....LOL.
See the shadow of the person standing on the diving board? Guess who?!
Looks like a snakey summer in Alabama.
Unfortunately, I wasn't alone.
Eeeeek !! Usually we find them in the trap, but this little devil was just swimming around like no one's business.....and it's a salt water pool !!
Unfortunately, one snake's mom had an unhappy mother's day because he is no longer with us. I hate Gregory missed this because he would have been squealing like a little girl, and probably on my shoulders by that point....LOL.
See the shadow of the person standing on the diving board? Guess who?!
Looks like a snakey summer in Alabama.
Saturday
Decoration (AKA Hell Saturday)
Today was "decoration" at the cemetery where 25% of my husband is buried. Apparently, it is an old tradition that requires family members to take flowers out to the grave, and then you make a donation to the groundskeepers fund, and eat, etc,etc. I don't recall doing this when I was younger, but then again, I've never been a big fan of the marble orchard.
I went because I am "the widow" and it's the proper thing to do, and because there was no one else available to take my mother-in-law, even though their family is about 10x the size of mine. (bites tongue)
I awoke at the proper time, got ready, and headed to the florist that we have used for years to pick up my flowers. I had taken a picture of the urn thingy there, had told them specifically what I wanted and had even picked out the flowers and greenery. It was nice latex and almost real looking stuff, none of that plastic dollar store crap for my Gregory. So I get there, amass the rush of Mother's Day flowers and deliveries, and the owner says "Hi Kim, how are you? What can I help you with?"
Then she gets a look on her face like she just ate a rotten lemon. "OH MY GOD IS THAT TODAY???"
Well !#^@%#^&#*. This is a GLOOOOOORIOUS start to my Saturday. She apologizes profusely and tries to give me some cheapy looking rainbow colored urn arrangement, and I managed to keep my cool and say "no thank you" and left.
I then spent the next hour stopping at every florist, Hobbby Lobby, flowery type place I could find. I finally found something that would just "have to do" at a Home Accents store. Oh I was ill as a hornet, as I am sure you can imagine. Which in turn initiated a skull splitting headache and my gastrointestinal system to turn against me. Multiple bathroom stops, three advils and lots of cursing finally got me to my MIL's much later than anticipated.
Oh and did I tell you it was a FRIGGING MONSOON?
By the time we got out to there the rain had slacked up, thank god because I had to put flowers my MIL got on every relative I think has ever existed, some I never heard of. We stayed out there for a few until it started raining again, and I took her home, said I had to get, and headed out.
I decided to run through town and stop at a little store that I have been wanting to go to, so I did, and then I tried to take a different way back to the interstate. This town has four exits that lead to downtown, surely I could meander my way out?
Oh no, I got LOST !! Yes, with a GPS in my car , and one on my phone, I was driving around Cullman County aimlessly. I knew when I saw cows I had problems. You would think at this point I would have lost it. Amazingly enough, I was remarkably calm. Calm in that talking to yourself in a high pitched voice and white-knuckling the steering wheel, but calm none the less. My stomach and head were even cooperating and had politely excused themselves from the situation. I managed to finally luck myself back to the interstate where I headed southbound, fast.
About 20 miles down the road, I had to tinkle. So I stopped, did that, and decided I would get gas. And along the road I went.
When I got back to Bham I decided I needed a cocktail so I stopped to grab a bite to eat and a drink, and then I realized that I didn't have MY CHECK CARD. @#$#^!*!* And I knew right where it was. Sitting on the top of the gas pump, along with the Coke Zero I bought. So I spent twenty minutes on the phone with Wachovia, who are sending me another card forthwith, and I used my other check card. Thank god I have two accounts with two different cards or I would have up the proverbial creek without a paddle. All of this because I left my purse at home and just took my little wallet thingy that only holds a few cards and my id. Everything else, at home. Grrrr. Luckily no one used my card and it is now inactive.
So I then "hit the road again" and decided I would run by the store to pick up a few groceries. And WINE. Which I plan to be enjoying as soon as I finish this post.
I then came home, got the jeep and the boys and went to the nursery to get daylilies to plant around the base of Gregory's tree. Nothing like digging in the dirt to ease one's frustrations. They look very nice and that made me happy and kind of made up for the Saturday from hell.
I hope your Saturday was better, and hope everyone enjoy's Mothers Day.....and just so you know, I'm going to the nice flower place next week and start making my own arrangement for Gregory for summer. I guess if you want something done, you really do have to do it yourself.
The orange ones are the ones that I grabbed in a rush.......they don't look too terribly bad, but still.....and the ones on the left are from my MIL.
I went because I am "the widow" and it's the proper thing to do, and because there was no one else available to take my mother-in-law, even though their family is about 10x the size of mine. (bites tongue)
I awoke at the proper time, got ready, and headed to the florist that we have used for years to pick up my flowers. I had taken a picture of the urn thingy there, had told them specifically what I wanted and had even picked out the flowers and greenery. It was nice latex and almost real looking stuff, none of that plastic dollar store crap for my Gregory. So I get there, amass the rush of Mother's Day flowers and deliveries, and the owner says "Hi Kim, how are you? What can I help you with?"
Then she gets a look on her face like she just ate a rotten lemon. "OH MY GOD IS THAT TODAY???"
Well !#^@%#^&#*. This is a GLOOOOOORIOUS start to my Saturday. She apologizes profusely and tries to give me some cheapy looking rainbow colored urn arrangement, and I managed to keep my cool and say "no thank you" and left.
I then spent the next hour stopping at every florist, Hobbby Lobby, flowery type place I could find. I finally found something that would just "have to do" at a Home Accents store. Oh I was ill as a hornet, as I am sure you can imagine. Which in turn initiated a skull splitting headache and my gastrointestinal system to turn against me. Multiple bathroom stops, three advils and lots of cursing finally got me to my MIL's much later than anticipated.
Oh and did I tell you it was a FRIGGING MONSOON?
By the time we got out to there the rain had slacked up, thank god because I had to put flowers my MIL got on every relative I think has ever existed, some I never heard of. We stayed out there for a few until it started raining again, and I took her home, said I had to get, and headed out.
I decided to run through town and stop at a little store that I have been wanting to go to, so I did, and then I tried to take a different way back to the interstate. This town has four exits that lead to downtown, surely I could meander my way out?
Oh no, I got LOST !! Yes, with a GPS in my car , and one on my phone, I was driving around Cullman County aimlessly. I knew when I saw cows I had problems. You would think at this point I would have lost it. Amazingly enough, I was remarkably calm. Calm in that talking to yourself in a high pitched voice and white-knuckling the steering wheel, but calm none the less. My stomach and head were even cooperating and had politely excused themselves from the situation. I managed to finally luck myself back to the interstate where I headed southbound, fast.
About 20 miles down the road, I had to tinkle. So I stopped, did that, and decided I would get gas. And along the road I went.
When I got back to Bham I decided I needed a cocktail so I stopped to grab a bite to eat and a drink, and then I realized that I didn't have MY CHECK CARD. @#$#^!*!* And I knew right where it was. Sitting on the top of the gas pump, along with the Coke Zero I bought. So I spent twenty minutes on the phone with Wachovia, who are sending me another card forthwith, and I used my other check card. Thank god I have two accounts with two different cards or I would have up the proverbial creek without a paddle. All of this because I left my purse at home and just took my little wallet thingy that only holds a few cards and my id. Everything else, at home. Grrrr. Luckily no one used my card and it is now inactive.
So I then "hit the road again" and decided I would run by the store to pick up a few groceries. And WINE. Which I plan to be enjoying as soon as I finish this post.
I then came home, got the jeep and the boys and went to the nursery to get daylilies to plant around the base of Gregory's tree. Nothing like digging in the dirt to ease one's frustrations. They look very nice and that made me happy and kind of made up for the Saturday from hell.
I hope your Saturday was better, and hope everyone enjoy's Mothers Day.....and just so you know, I'm going to the nice flower place next week and start making my own arrangement for Gregory for summer. I guess if you want something done, you really do have to do it yourself.
The orange ones are the ones that I grabbed in a rush.......they don't look too terribly bad, but still.....and the ones on the left are from my MIL.
Thursday
Thursday. Meh.
So today my first appointment,(and early waker-upper)was my attorney's office,to sign the Probate paperwork. Again. I am tired of real life smacking me in the face in B&W,but I signed it anyway. Business is business, as G would say.
Then I journeyed along to the Shelby Cancer Center where I met my parents and his doctor. I am sure she is a lovely lady in person but even when she is telling you that the cancer has gotten smaller and has given him "more steps on the ladder" (actual quote)the prognosis is still "not so good" , and "basically terminal" ....it's like Really, Bitch?? This is my daddy you're talking about. He will never die.
Well, she basically crapped on my ideals. Thanks Doc. I "preciate it. You have just reinforced my new thought that life sucks to the umpteenth....and I love my mom and all but sometimes I think she is on crack, because right there, in front of the doctor, and me, and my daddy,she sez.." My daughter just lost her husband, she can't lose her daddy too."
SHIT.
Well damn , it's all my fault again. Someone can't die because my husband just died and I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE. No one can sneeze, or cough, fart, or have an issue, cause IT MIGHT SEND KIM OVER THE EDGE !!!!
I know she didn't mean it. I know she is grappling with her own thoughts, feelings, and doubts. She has her own pain, and I am saddling her and my Daddy with mine. They have been married for 43 years FGS, that is a LIFETIME for me, and some of yall too.
And I KNOW she doesn't want to join the club. It's not one anyone wants to be in.
I damn sure fought it tooth and nail.
But don't exile me, or broadcast me, or pity me cause I'm in it. I don't wanna be here, I don't want my daddy here, nor my mom, and I damn sure didn't want Gregory here, but I have to own it. I OWN IT. I am the one who should tell it. When I'm ready.
Don't tell anyone unless I tell you. Don't tell doctors I have never met before that my husband died and my daddy can't. Don't tell waitresses, nurses, anyone.
Don't be my brother, and run into my EX, and tell him that my husband died. Or don't run into him at all, but TEXT MESSAGE him instead.It's not his business. (ALAN- your ass is next, I promise you.) Whether it was text message or not. It wa sput outh there, so it is what it is.
This is MY venue. If I want you to know, I put it here. If I don't,I don't tell you.
This is a really easy URL to remember. But to be honest, my family doesn't know. And I have my reasons. Maybe one day they will. And maybe I am fooling myself and saying they don't now. But in the meantime, this has to be mine.
And yes, if I want to spill it out on the internet for the world and strangers and friends and new blog friends and Twitterati and Facebookers and Bloggers to see, that is my choice. My business. Me owning my grief.
I have to OWN my grief. My emotions. My responses.
It's all I got left.
Can it be mine, please?
Then I journeyed along to the Shelby Cancer Center where I met my parents and his doctor. I am sure she is a lovely lady in person but even when she is telling you that the cancer has gotten smaller and has given him "more steps on the ladder" (actual quote)the prognosis is still "not so good" , and "basically terminal" ....it's like Really, Bitch?? This is my daddy you're talking about. He will never die.
Well, she basically crapped on my ideals. Thanks Doc. I "preciate it. You have just reinforced my new thought that life sucks to the umpteenth....and I love my mom and all but sometimes I think she is on crack, because right there, in front of the doctor, and me, and my daddy,she sez.." My daughter just lost her husband, she can't lose her daddy too."
SHIT.
Well damn , it's all my fault again. Someone can't die because my husband just died and I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE. No one can sneeze, or cough, fart, or have an issue, cause IT MIGHT SEND KIM OVER THE EDGE !!!!
I know she didn't mean it. I know she is grappling with her own thoughts, feelings, and doubts. She has her own pain, and I am saddling her and my Daddy with mine. They have been married for 43 years FGS, that is a LIFETIME for me, and some of yall too.
And I KNOW she doesn't want to join the club. It's not one anyone wants to be in.
I damn sure fought it tooth and nail.
But don't exile me, or broadcast me, or pity me cause I'm in it. I don't wanna be here, I don't want my daddy here, nor my mom, and I damn sure didn't want Gregory here, but I have to own it. I OWN IT. I am the one who should tell it. When I'm ready.
Don't tell anyone unless I tell you. Don't tell doctors I have never met before that my husband died and my daddy can't. Don't tell waitresses, nurses, anyone.
Don't be my brother, and run into my EX, and tell him that my husband died. Or don't run into him at all, but TEXT MESSAGE him instead.It's not his business. (ALAN- your ass is next, I promise you.) Whether it was text message or not. It wa sput outh there, so it is what it is.
This is MY venue. If I want you to know, I put it here. If I don't,I don't tell you.
This is a really easy URL to remember. But to be honest, my family doesn't know. And I have my reasons. Maybe one day they will. And maybe I am fooling myself and saying they don't now. But in the meantime, this has to be mine.
And yes, if I want to spill it out on the internet for the world and strangers and friends and new blog friends and Twitterati and Facebookers and Bloggers to see, that is my choice. My business. Me owning my grief.
I have to OWN my grief. My emotions. My responses.
It's all I got left.
Can it be mine, please?
Wednesday
Cinco de Groupo....
Yesterday I went to my "surviving spouses" group. I'll admit , I was apprehensive at first. Even nervous. I actually still am.
It was OK. I can't say good, because really, no one wanted to be there. But it wasn't bad either. I guess it just was.
We ate , then did the circle sit and had to tell a bit about ourselves and what brought us there. I did ok, didn't collapse into a wailing heap. Thank God. Some people did, and one person couldn't even talk. Ouch.
One of the things they suggested we do is "journaling", where we write down our feelings and thoughts,etc,etc. Well, I think I'll say I jumped right to the head of the class right there. Cause basically, this is just a journal....in electronic form.
And it does help. Alot.
Not sure if I told them that.
Oh, I was the youngest one there. Yes, uncomfy much? No Twitterers, Facebookers or Bloggers. One person said they had NEVER BEEN ON THE INTERNET. Eeeek!
So I will go back next week and see if it "fits" better. We shall see. I'm still more comfy with my one-on-one person that I see (hi!!), but I'll do both and see where it takes me.
The last time I sat around in a circle and talked about myself, the other half of me was sitting next to me holding my hand.
I missed that last night. I guess I always will.
It was OK. I can't say good, because really, no one wanted to be there. But it wasn't bad either. I guess it just was.
We ate , then did the circle sit and had to tell a bit about ourselves and what brought us there. I did ok, didn't collapse into a wailing heap. Thank God. Some people did, and one person couldn't even talk. Ouch.
One of the things they suggested we do is "journaling", where we write down our feelings and thoughts,etc,etc. Well, I think I'll say I jumped right to the head of the class right there. Cause basically, this is just a journal....in electronic form.
And it does help. Alot.
Not sure if I told them that.
Oh, I was the youngest one there. Yes, uncomfy much? No Twitterers, Facebookers or Bloggers. One person said they had NEVER BEEN ON THE INTERNET. Eeeek!
So I will go back next week and see if it "fits" better. We shall see. I'm still more comfy with my one-on-one person that I see (hi!!), but I'll do both and see where it takes me.
The last time I sat around in a circle and talked about myself, the other half of me was sitting next to me holding my hand.
I missed that last night. I guess I always will.
Tuesday
Bring on the rain......
I work today from 9-5.
Then I go to my "group" til 7:30.
I am not sure I'm ready to be a part of a group I really want nothing
to do with. It's club I never wanted to join.
And the fact that the weather is supposed to be all rainy and crappy all week reinforces my "I don' wanna"" philosophy.
And despite what Jodi says....I am afraid. Bad afraid.
Bring on the rain baby.
We'll drown together.
I love you G.
Then I go to my "group" til 7:30.
I am not sure I'm ready to be a part of a group I really want nothing
to do with. It's club I never wanted to join.
And the fact that the weather is supposed to be all rainy and crappy all week reinforces my "I don' wanna"" philosophy.
And despite what Jodi says....I am afraid. Bad afraid.
Bring on the rain baby.
We'll drown together.
I love you G.
Sunday
Sunday isn't a fun day anymore...
Sundays are tough for me now.
Sunday was always "our day". Think I've mentioned that before.
When I lived in Poplarville, if we weren't spending the day together, we were on the phone. We listened to a local radio show here called Reg's Coffee House. I would listen online, and he would listen to it on the radio. I would get the playlist, download the songs we liked, and burn him a cd once a month or so. I think I made eight in all.
When we were finally together, we would listen to it at the lake, in the pool or on the boat, or sitting on our back porch here at home having our traditional Sunday bottle of champagne. And I bought G an iPod shuffle so he could take some of the music to the gym or traveling. I have all of the CD's, and the shuffle, but I can't listen to that music anymore. I tried, but it just isn't gonna happen.
I am drinking champagne on Sunday though. I bought a new glass, just for me, and usually on Sunday evenings I sit on the back porch, drop some strawberries and blackberrys in my glass and sit out there and watch the boys play.
(If you are new- the boys aren't chirren - they're my dogs!)
Our two glasses still sit in their normal spot at our bar.....I just can't drink out of mine. It doesn't quite feel right.
Actually , nothing feels right anymore.
I miss him so much. Sundays used to be so happy. Now I don't even like to think about it. I never understood what the term "month of Sundays" meant.
I wish I had several "months of Sundays" with Gregory again.
I miss you baby. I love you.
I'm gonna go have our champagne and a good cry now.
Sunday was always "our day". Think I've mentioned that before.
When I lived in Poplarville, if we weren't spending the day together, we were on the phone. We listened to a local radio show here called Reg's Coffee House. I would listen online, and he would listen to it on the radio. I would get the playlist, download the songs we liked, and burn him a cd once a month or so. I think I made eight in all.
When we were finally together, we would listen to it at the lake, in the pool or on the boat, or sitting on our back porch here at home having our traditional Sunday bottle of champagne. And I bought G an iPod shuffle so he could take some of the music to the gym or traveling. I have all of the CD's, and the shuffle, but I can't listen to that music anymore. I tried, but it just isn't gonna happen.
I am drinking champagne on Sunday though. I bought a new glass, just for me, and usually on Sunday evenings I sit on the back porch, drop some strawberries and blackberrys in my glass and sit out there and watch the boys play.
(If you are new- the boys aren't chirren - they're my dogs!)
Our two glasses still sit in their normal spot at our bar.....I just can't drink out of mine. It doesn't quite feel right.
Actually , nothing feels right anymore.
I miss him so much. Sundays used to be so happy. Now I don't even like to think about it. I never understood what the term "month of Sundays" meant.
I wish I had several "months of Sundays" with Gregory again.
I miss you baby. I love you.
I'm gonna go have our champagne and a good cry now.
Saturday
Bubbles
I was in Publix a few hours ago just to pick up some basics and I decided to head down the "personal care" aisle. If anyone needs "personal care" right now, it would damn sure be me.
I was perusing the soap and smell-good section and I saw him.
Mr. Bubble.
When I was a kid, my Granny would draw my bath in her big old-fashioned style tub in Poplarville and add Mr. Bubble that she had gotten at Sunflower or Pearl River Drug.
She would hold her hand over the water stream to make it bubble up the water so I would have decent bubbles. I remember the smell, the tub and her telling me how long I could stay in before dinner was ready. I would always add extra Mr Bubble when she left the room.
I loved using her soap, Yardley's English Lavender, and thought I was quite the princess when she got me one of those blow-up tub pillows to cradle my little head in.
I would sing and talk to myself (I'll talk to a fence post if you haven't figured that out yet) and say "just five more minutes!!" when she knocked on the door and said my time was up.
I have always loved my bath time.
So fast forward to when I moved to Alabama. I missed my old home in Pville and my bath time, but when I got here Greg had put in a garden tub, for me!! **SQUUUEEE** Bubble baths every day?? I must be in Heaven!!
I do so enjoy my bath time, but what I miss now is G coming in to sit and talk to me and washing my back and just hanging out.
I hope there's bubble bath up there where the Mr Bubble flows like gravy.
I know someones waiting to wash my back.
I was perusing the soap and smell-good section and I saw him.
Mr. Bubble.
When I was a kid, my Granny would draw my bath in her big old-fashioned style tub in Poplarville and add Mr. Bubble that she had gotten at Sunflower or Pearl River Drug.
She would hold her hand over the water stream to make it bubble up the water so I would have decent bubbles. I remember the smell, the tub and her telling me how long I could stay in before dinner was ready. I would always add extra Mr Bubble when she left the room.
I loved using her soap, Yardley's English Lavender, and thought I was quite the princess when she got me one of those blow-up tub pillows to cradle my little head in.
I would sing and talk to myself (I'll talk to a fence post if you haven't figured that out yet) and say "just five more minutes!!" when she knocked on the door and said my time was up.
I have always loved my bath time.
So fast forward to when I moved to Alabama. I missed my old home in Pville and my bath time, but when I got here Greg had put in a garden tub, for me!! **SQUUUEEE** Bubble baths every day?? I must be in Heaven!!
I do so enjoy my bath time, but what I miss now is G coming in to sit and talk to me and washing my back and just hanging out.
I hope there's bubble bath up there where the Mr Bubble flows like gravy.
I know someones waiting to wash my back.
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