I'm hoping this is a sign of good things appearing.....for all of us.
Have a great day !
Thursday
Wednesday
Boo-reaucracy
Death and it's aftermath is an ugly business.
On TV and in the movies, someone dies and you see the funeral and the friends and families supporting each other and eating little finger sandwiches and sipping tea and talking about the deceased and the family they left behind. You see people bringing food and helping with tasks and being the perfect little neighbors and all that.
What you don't see are the bills and the phone calls and the heavily accented medical company biller threatening to send your case to an attorney if you don't pay this $45,000 the insurance didn't cover in 30 days . "Oh and we are very very sorry for your loss Miss."
You don't see the courts taking their sweet freaking time probating a will while someone sits at home and worries about paying next months house note, car note and medical insurance.
I unfortunately am seeing it firsthand. We live 25 minutes from the Probate Court, and I filed the paperwork to have his will approved by the court a week after he died. It has now been 4 months. I went to the court a week after the paperwork was filed and signed, along with a witness who watched him sign the will, that those were our signatures on the paperwork. We could have gone to court later that month. Or the next.
But nooooo, it took them 6 weeks to decide to go to court yesterday. And you know how that turned out. How frigging long does it take to pick up a handful of paperwork, drive to Alabaster, and say "Here, be in court on this date and time." I called the court and asked them if I could serve the damm papers myself and of course was told no. I understand there's a process to go through but for god's sake LIFE DOESN'T STOP because someone dies and the hits just keep on coming !!
So now I wait until September.
I don't get how people get by when this stuff happens. Everyone keeps saying I am strong but this is enough to break me. There are lots of great organizations out there for widows and widowers with children, but so far I haven't found any for young widows without kids that just need some freaking help. Sure there's lots of books and websites and stuff, but since I don't have dependent children, am not old enough or disabled to get Social Security, I'm pretty much shit outta luck. It's like because we didn't have kids of our own I am less of a wife and widow. Maybe if he hadn't up and died on me we would be looking forward to one now like we were planning. Thanks LIFE ! Go piss up a rope.
I'm not looking for any free swag or a handout, I just want the damn paperwork so I can start moving forward !! And right now I'm just spinning my wheels. I work, and I'm actively looking for a second and now probably a third job. I'm frustrated and mad at G for dying on me and mad at God for whatever he has planned and just ill and grouchy in general.
And I want to thank all of you who read my blog and comment that you were here. Your support and comments mean the world to me. When I see that you have taken the time to read my pointless drivel it helps me keep going. I know I'm not writing about all of the fun I had at a conference and how great life is and all the sunshiny stuff you see all over the blogosphere and yadda yadda yadda, but maybe one day.
I hope one day I can write about all that fun stuff again dear reader. And I hope that you'll stick around to see it.
On TV and in the movies, someone dies and you see the funeral and the friends and families supporting each other and eating little finger sandwiches and sipping tea and talking about the deceased and the family they left behind. You see people bringing food and helping with tasks and being the perfect little neighbors and all that.
What you don't see are the bills and the phone calls and the heavily accented medical company biller threatening to send your case to an attorney if you don't pay this $45,000 the insurance didn't cover in 30 days . "Oh and we are very very sorry for your loss Miss."
You don't see the courts taking their sweet freaking time probating a will while someone sits at home and worries about paying next months house note, car note and medical insurance.
I unfortunately am seeing it firsthand. We live 25 minutes from the Probate Court, and I filed the paperwork to have his will approved by the court a week after he died. It has now been 4 months. I went to the court a week after the paperwork was filed and signed, along with a witness who watched him sign the will, that those were our signatures on the paperwork. We could have gone to court later that month. Or the next.
But nooooo, it took them 6 weeks to decide to go to court yesterday. And you know how that turned out. How frigging long does it take to pick up a handful of paperwork, drive to Alabaster, and say "Here, be in court on this date and time." I called the court and asked them if I could serve the damm papers myself and of course was told no. I understand there's a process to go through but for god's sake LIFE DOESN'T STOP because someone dies and the hits just keep on coming !!
So now I wait until September.
I don't get how people get by when this stuff happens. Everyone keeps saying I am strong but this is enough to break me. There are lots of great organizations out there for widows and widowers with children, but so far I haven't found any for young widows without kids that just need some freaking help. Sure there's lots of books and websites and stuff, but since I don't have dependent children, am not old enough or disabled to get Social Security, I'm pretty much shit outta luck. It's like because we didn't have kids of our own I am less of a wife and widow. Maybe if he hadn't up and died on me we would be looking forward to one now like we were planning. Thanks LIFE ! Go piss up a rope.
I'm not looking for any free swag or a handout, I just want the damn paperwork so I can start moving forward !! And right now I'm just spinning my wheels. I work, and I'm actively looking for a second and now probably a third job. I'm frustrated and mad at G for dying on me and mad at God for whatever he has planned and just ill and grouchy in general.
And I want to thank all of you who read my blog and comment that you were here. Your support and comments mean the world to me. When I see that you have taken the time to read my pointless drivel it helps me keep going. I know I'm not writing about all of the fun I had at a conference and how great life is and all the sunshiny stuff you see all over the blogosphere and yadda yadda yadda, but maybe one day.
I hope one day I can write about all that fun stuff again dear reader. And I hope that you'll stick around to see it.
Tuesday
A good christian....
Today was supposed to be my Probate Court date to finally execute G's will and get the much needed "letters of testamentary" and other legal documents so I can start sorting out the mounds of legal issues, bills, and receipt of stock from his company and finally starting to move forward.
That's not happening today. It's been rescheduled for September.
The reason? G's ex and the mother of his 8 year old son claims she didn't know about the court date, which is total bull. She was very well aware as she had been told by her former mother in-law and brother in-law, who I had set to handle part of the estate that I was going to put into a trust for my stepson that he could use upon entering college. She was sent a registered letter and the post office sent her three notices and kept it for two weeks, she just didn't bother picking it up. She called the courthouse raising hell feigning ignorance about the hearing and in the words of my attorney and the court appointed guardian ad litem "acted like a horse's ass." That description fits her well known nickname which I won't reveal here but it involves corn and a chain-link fence.
But anyhoo, back to the story. She successfully sabotaged the court date, causing more delays and legal crap, more attorney's fees, and just more stress overall.
All the while promoting herself as a "good christian woman" and using her church to promote her facade.
Since I don't have any spare money laying around for bail I had to veto the urge to go .07 miles to her home and whip the devil right out of her. So I decided I would write her a letter instead.
Dear Christian Woman,
I hope you awakened with a smug smirk this morning in the knowledge that you have momentarily stopped the wheels of probate from running here in Shelby County. I hope you also realize that in doing so, you not only hurt me, which I am sure was your original intent, but you have hurt your son, and R, his older half-sister.
You see, even though you get $1800 dollars a month in Social Security, your new husband's income, and your mother's retirement check from Johnson & Johnson as she lives with yall, you are poor in spirit and in human decency. BTW, about that new husband?? Thanks for hiding the fact that yall got married until after G died so the monthly support checks wouldn't be modified by the court. What Sunday School class taught you how to do that?
I am the sole heir and executor of MY husband's estate. You have no say in what I do with anything. It was me and G who discussed setting up a trust for Patrick in case something happened to him. We are the ones who started a college fund for him 4 years ago, to which you have yet to contribute to but incessantly call your ex brother-in-law to try and get your hands on the money. I am the one that has continued to put money in there even after you haven't allowed me to see P since the day of the funeral.
It is P and R you are really hurting. R is a 22 year old woman who works her ass off at the salon and works a second job. She needs car money, gas money, etc, etc.....and you have stopped that. P was going to have a trust fund set up, I was going to offer to buy all of his school supplies and school clothes (As I have done for the last four years), and I was going to do whatever I could to help those kids in the wake of losing their Daddy. But oh no, your good Christian morals had to go and upend the apple cart, so to speak.
I have to say, you do a great acting job. Must be all those church productions and the children's programs you are involved in. At the hospital, you hugged me and told me God was watching over me and that you and the church would be praying for me and if I needed ANYTHING just ask. You were nice to my mom (who when she first met you told me she thought there was something mentally wrong with you just from a look), hugged on my brother and tried to be the mom you never were to R, my evil stepdaughter who I love dearly and still have a great relationship with. I should have known something was up when you didn't even get teary eyed and looked down your nose at Brother Tony when he came to pray with us, because he wasn't from "your church" and were overheard saying it. Brother Tony has known my parents since before I entered this world, he is family, and he walks the walk and talks the talk, and I think you could learn about being a "good Christian" from him. G also trusted him completely and they had many conversations before he died, which I am so thankful for.
You were oh so nice at the hospital. At the funeral. At my in-laws. P even sat with me at the funeral and he looked so handsome in his little suit and he held my hand and told me he loved me and it would be ok. He and I put notes and flowers in the hole before they sealed it up. You stood there and watched. A 7 year old boy comforted me as I had comforted him over the years, and he has his daddy and my family to thank for instilling that kind of honest caring in him. I am positive he learned little of that from you.
And you were so nice in the weeks afterward, even when I knew you were calling the funeral home and my in-laws pestering them for a copy of the death certificate. The day I got them, you got the first copy. So you could get P on Social Security.
That was the last I heard from you, Miss Good Christian. You won't answer your phone, and you have made it abundantly clear to others that I will never see P again. Yes, I know people in your church. In your neighborhood. They talk to me at the pool, at the store, at the park. They see you for the phony you are. You've got a few people fooled, but everyone else knows what you're really like and they put up with you because you're bipolar and don't want to have to listen to your crap when you set off.
So you go on and keep leading your "good Christian woman" life. But you remember that karma is often a boomerang.
You remember that I am the one who taught P to dive and swim underwater. To ride a tube on the lake. To hit a baseball. To ride a bike. I am the one who coached his soccer teams, took him to football practice, picked him up when you couldn't get to the school or G was out of town. I'm the one that planned and paid for his last two birthday parties. I took him places on summer vacation while you were working and G was traveling. I went to his first day of school with him too. Met his teachers, went to his class, ate lunch with him. He was part of my family as well with his Poppa Bill, Miss Betty and his uncle Alan and cousin Connie Lou and on and on. I'm the one that covered you when I went to the school to pick him up and you had bounced a check to the lunch fund or to the PTO. Remember me? The "evil stepmother?" Yea, he looks mighty sad doesn't he....
I hope one day you will look back and see how unchristian your behavior is. And in case you forget, I will still have the nasty e-mails, the voice mails, and the little notes you would send over with "your son." Including the e-mail you drafted and sent us by accident which has some decidedly foul language and references to my being a "beat cop in a podunk town" and referring to my parents as "elitist rich assholes".
I would have to say the many kids I helped by locking their abusers and molesters away would probably disagree with your description of my former career. And I know your father is an alcoholic felon and your mother is a certified crazy person, but you don't have to bash my parents because they are happily married after 43 years and functional. And in case you have forgotten my attorney and yours have all 113 of the e-mails you fired off through the years. Remember those? The ones that the judge read and threw your case for sole custody out of court? Yea, those.
Oh and I forgot to add, when is it ever acceptable to threaten an 86 year old woman with not letting her see her grandson again unless she cuts off communication with me?
You left the family, and now you want to be all back up in it. Whatever.
So anyway, just wanted to tell you that you have inspired me to be a better person than you, and to try and learn from a real christian what it's all really about. It's a learning process everyday but I think I'm getting it.
And if the Bible is correct and you reap what you sow, I hope your harvest is bountiful and never-ending.
K
So there's my letter. That should explain why yesterday was so craptacular and in the words of another of my widow friends, continued the "Dreaded Bureaucracy of Death".
Today is another day though, and here I am.
Tally-ho yall.
That's not happening today. It's been rescheduled for September.
The reason? G's ex and the mother of his 8 year old son claims she didn't know about the court date, which is total bull. She was very well aware as she had been told by her former mother in-law and brother in-law, who I had set to handle part of the estate that I was going to put into a trust for my stepson that he could use upon entering college. She was sent a registered letter and the post office sent her three notices and kept it for two weeks, she just didn't bother picking it up. She called the courthouse raising hell feigning ignorance about the hearing and in the words of my attorney and the court appointed guardian ad litem "acted like a horse's ass." That description fits her well known nickname which I won't reveal here but it involves corn and a chain-link fence.
But anyhoo, back to the story. She successfully sabotaged the court date, causing more delays and legal crap, more attorney's fees, and just more stress overall.
All the while promoting herself as a "good christian woman" and using her church to promote her facade.
Since I don't have any spare money laying around for bail I had to veto the urge to go .07 miles to her home and whip the devil right out of her. So I decided I would write her a letter instead.
Dear Christian Woman,
I hope you awakened with a smug smirk this morning in the knowledge that you have momentarily stopped the wheels of probate from running here in Shelby County. I hope you also realize that in doing so, you not only hurt me, which I am sure was your original intent, but you have hurt your son, and R, his older half-sister.
You see, even though you get $1800 dollars a month in Social Security, your new husband's income, and your mother's retirement check from Johnson & Johnson as she lives with yall, you are poor in spirit and in human decency. BTW, about that new husband?? Thanks for hiding the fact that yall got married until after G died so the monthly support checks wouldn't be modified by the court. What Sunday School class taught you how to do that?
I am the sole heir and executor of MY husband's estate. You have no say in what I do with anything. It was me and G who discussed setting up a trust for Patrick in case something happened to him. We are the ones who started a college fund for him 4 years ago, to which you have yet to contribute to but incessantly call your ex brother-in-law to try and get your hands on the money. I am the one that has continued to put money in there even after you haven't allowed me to see P since the day of the funeral.
It is P and R you are really hurting. R is a 22 year old woman who works her ass off at the salon and works a second job. She needs car money, gas money, etc, etc.....and you have stopped that. P was going to have a trust fund set up, I was going to offer to buy all of his school supplies and school clothes (As I have done for the last four years), and I was going to do whatever I could to help those kids in the wake of losing their Daddy. But oh no, your good Christian morals had to go and upend the apple cart, so to speak.
I have to say, you do a great acting job. Must be all those church productions and the children's programs you are involved in. At the hospital, you hugged me and told me God was watching over me and that you and the church would be praying for me and if I needed ANYTHING just ask. You were nice to my mom (who when she first met you told me she thought there was something mentally wrong with you just from a look), hugged on my brother and tried to be the mom you never were to R, my evil stepdaughter who I love dearly and still have a great relationship with. I should have known something was up when you didn't even get teary eyed and looked down your nose at Brother Tony when he came to pray with us, because he wasn't from "your church" and were overheard saying it. Brother Tony has known my parents since before I entered this world, he is family, and he walks the walk and talks the talk, and I think you could learn about being a "good Christian" from him. G also trusted him completely and they had many conversations before he died, which I am so thankful for.
You were oh so nice at the hospital. At the funeral. At my in-laws. P even sat with me at the funeral and he looked so handsome in his little suit and he held my hand and told me he loved me and it would be ok. He and I put notes and flowers in the hole before they sealed it up. You stood there and watched. A 7 year old boy comforted me as I had comforted him over the years, and he has his daddy and my family to thank for instilling that kind of honest caring in him. I am positive he learned little of that from you.
And you were so nice in the weeks afterward, even when I knew you were calling the funeral home and my in-laws pestering them for a copy of the death certificate. The day I got them, you got the first copy. So you could get P on Social Security.
That was the last I heard from you, Miss Good Christian. You won't answer your phone, and you have made it abundantly clear to others that I will never see P again. Yes, I know people in your church. In your neighborhood. They talk to me at the pool, at the store, at the park. They see you for the phony you are. You've got a few people fooled, but everyone else knows what you're really like and they put up with you because you're bipolar and don't want to have to listen to your crap when you set off.
So you go on and keep leading your "good Christian woman" life. But you remember that karma is often a boomerang.
You remember that I am the one who taught P to dive and swim underwater. To ride a tube on the lake. To hit a baseball. To ride a bike. I am the one who coached his soccer teams, took him to football practice, picked him up when you couldn't get to the school or G was out of town. I'm the one that planned and paid for his last two birthday parties. I took him places on summer vacation while you were working and G was traveling. I went to his first day of school with him too. Met his teachers, went to his class, ate lunch with him. He was part of my family as well with his Poppa Bill, Miss Betty and his uncle Alan and cousin Connie Lou and on and on. I'm the one that covered you when I went to the school to pick him up and you had bounced a check to the lunch fund or to the PTO. Remember me? The "evil stepmother?" Yea, he looks mighty sad doesn't he....
I hope one day you will look back and see how unchristian your behavior is. And in case you forget, I will still have the nasty e-mails, the voice mails, and the little notes you would send over with "your son." Including the e-mail you drafted and sent us by accident which has some decidedly foul language and references to my being a "beat cop in a podunk town" and referring to my parents as "elitist rich assholes".
I would have to say the many kids I helped by locking their abusers and molesters away would probably disagree with your description of my former career. And I know your father is an alcoholic felon and your mother is a certified crazy person, but you don't have to bash my parents because they are happily married after 43 years and functional. And in case you have forgotten my attorney and yours have all 113 of the e-mails you fired off through the years. Remember those? The ones that the judge read and threw your case for sole custody out of court? Yea, those.
Oh and I forgot to add, when is it ever acceptable to threaten an 86 year old woman with not letting her see her grandson again unless she cuts off communication with me?
You left the family, and now you want to be all back up in it. Whatever.
So anyway, just wanted to tell you that you have inspired me to be a better person than you, and to try and learn from a real christian what it's all really about. It's a learning process everyday but I think I'm getting it.
And if the Bible is correct and you reap what you sow, I hope your harvest is bountiful and never-ending.
K
So there's my letter. That should explain why yesterday was so craptacular and in the words of another of my widow friends, continued the "Dreaded Bureaucracy of Death".
Today is another day though, and here I am.
Tally-ho yall.
Sunday
Just as he left it......
Many things in our house are just as Gregory left them.
His boat shoes still sit outside on our deck after he took them out of the washer to dry in the sun. His razor, his toothbrush, and medicines still sit on his side of the bathroom next to his sink. His robe still hangs next to mine. The last batch of dry cleaning that he picked up still hangs in our closet, still in it's plastic. His clothes are in their places, his hats here and there. His keys, wallet, phone, chapstick and other assorted things he always had in his pocket are still in the basket in the kitchen where he always put them.
He's the only thing missing. I guess technically he's here. At least that's what you could say considering his ashes are front and center on my bureau.
In the process of being pulled into this thing called "widowhood" kicking and screaming, I have read a lot of other blogs by men and women in the same crappy club. I have gotten to know many of them. I have also read message board posts and "grief share" e-mails of others. And everyone handles it differently.
One woman started cleaning out and giving her husbands clothes away two weeks after he died. I cannot fathom that. But if it worked for her, that's what she needed to do. I still go in and smell his clothes. Of course, they don't smell like anything but Gain and dryer sheets and cedar from the closet now, but sometimes, if I'm reaaaalllly lucky, I get just a little whiff of him. I remember once I was shopping with my friend Shawn and we were smelling men's cologne and she asked me what my favorite was on him. I told her I didn't have one because he didn't wear it. She asked me what he smelled like. I said he smelled like Gregory. Because he did. I used to lay my head down on his chest or in his hair and just smell him, and he would laugh and call me sniffles.
I miss his scent. I sleep in his t-shirts. I wear his hats while I'm out putzing around. I even wear his socks sometimes. I finally washed his dirty clothes when it looked like they were going to sprout legs and start walking around the house. I used to hate the high ball glasses that were his favorite. Now I drink out of them. I use his toothbrush. I used the last of his Irish Spring body wash but kept the bottle in the shower, because it had been his.
And I know none of this will change anything. He's still dead, and I'm still mad as hell about the whole thing. I guess some would say I'm still in the "denial" phase. No, that phase pretty much went out the window when I walked with his body to the doors of the crematorium and watched them take him inside - after I put our picture in his pocket along with my St Christopher, gave him his last ever kiss on his lips and told him how much I loved him and that I was missing him so. That phase was over when the funeral dude had to ask me to let him go so they could "take care of him." See, no one knows I went up there that morning. Everyone thought I said my last goodbye the day before. But in Alabama, you have to wait 24 hours after the papers are signed at the funeral home before you cremate someone, in case plans change. I knew that. So, on Sunday morning, March 22nd, I got up early and drove to the funeral home to be with my husband for a last little while and walk with his earthly body to the place where I really told him goodbye.
Anyone who's still in denial after that needs a straight jacket and a one way ticket to cuckoo land.
I think I'm in the stunned phase. The "how in the hell is this really happening yet I'm still getting up each day and breathing" phase. The "how I am sitting here having drinks with my friends when my husband's dead?" phase. The phase where you hear "Oh, I see you're still wearing your rings" from someone.
Yes, I'm still wearing my rings. And I will continue to for as long as I damn well please. In my mind, I'm still married. He is still and will always be my husband and I will always be his wife. I'm sure one day I will take my rings and his off and wear them on a chain for awhile, then eventually they'll probably make their home in my armoire. But for now, yes, I'm still wearing my rings, thank you very much.
There will come a day when I will have to go through his clothes and decide what to do with them. Today is not that day. I don't know when that day will be, but when it does, I think I'll just know.
Some things I will never give up.....
The shirt he wore when we ran off and got married?? Never.
The shirt he wore when we got "married again" in New Orleans?? Never ever.
The blue Salty Dog t-shirt he wore to many a fun time we had (including the tattoo fiasco?) and proclaimed his favorite?? Never ever ever.
His favorite Eagles sweatshirt? OMDB.
His favorite overalls and Auburn hat that he called his "project uniform"? Nope.
His Yankees hats and shirts ? No, I wear them now.
Along with several other shirts and jackets and hats and doo-dahs that I will keep forever. The Irish lady shirt we shared especially.....
There are many things of his that will eventually find a new home, but not just yet. I'm just not ready. And that's just fine with me.
His boat shoes still sit outside on our deck after he took them out of the washer to dry in the sun. His razor, his toothbrush, and medicines still sit on his side of the bathroom next to his sink. His robe still hangs next to mine. The last batch of dry cleaning that he picked up still hangs in our closet, still in it's plastic. His clothes are in their places, his hats here and there. His keys, wallet, phone, chapstick and other assorted things he always had in his pocket are still in the basket in the kitchen where he always put them.
He's the only thing missing. I guess technically he's here. At least that's what you could say considering his ashes are front and center on my bureau.
In the process of being pulled into this thing called "widowhood" kicking and screaming, I have read a lot of other blogs by men and women in the same crappy club. I have gotten to know many of them. I have also read message board posts and "grief share" e-mails of others. And everyone handles it differently.
One woman started cleaning out and giving her husbands clothes away two weeks after he died. I cannot fathom that. But if it worked for her, that's what she needed to do. I still go in and smell his clothes. Of course, they don't smell like anything but Gain and dryer sheets and cedar from the closet now, but sometimes, if I'm reaaaalllly lucky, I get just a little whiff of him. I remember once I was shopping with my friend Shawn and we were smelling men's cologne and she asked me what my favorite was on him. I told her I didn't have one because he didn't wear it. She asked me what he smelled like. I said he smelled like Gregory. Because he did. I used to lay my head down on his chest or in his hair and just smell him, and he would laugh and call me sniffles.
I miss his scent. I sleep in his t-shirts. I wear his hats while I'm out putzing around. I even wear his socks sometimes. I finally washed his dirty clothes when it looked like they were going to sprout legs and start walking around the house. I used to hate the high ball glasses that were his favorite. Now I drink out of them. I use his toothbrush. I used the last of his Irish Spring body wash but kept the bottle in the shower, because it had been his.
And I know none of this will change anything. He's still dead, and I'm still mad as hell about the whole thing. I guess some would say I'm still in the "denial" phase. No, that phase pretty much went out the window when I walked with his body to the doors of the crematorium and watched them take him inside - after I put our picture in his pocket along with my St Christopher, gave him his last ever kiss on his lips and told him how much I loved him and that I was missing him so. That phase was over when the funeral dude had to ask me to let him go so they could "take care of him." See, no one knows I went up there that morning. Everyone thought I said my last goodbye the day before. But in Alabama, you have to wait 24 hours after the papers are signed at the funeral home before you cremate someone, in case plans change. I knew that. So, on Sunday morning, March 22nd, I got up early and drove to the funeral home to be with my husband for a last little while and walk with his earthly body to the place where I really told him goodbye.
Anyone who's still in denial after that needs a straight jacket and a one way ticket to cuckoo land.
I think I'm in the stunned phase. The "how in the hell is this really happening yet I'm still getting up each day and breathing" phase. The "how I am sitting here having drinks with my friends when my husband's dead?" phase. The phase where you hear "Oh, I see you're still wearing your rings" from someone.
Yes, I'm still wearing my rings. And I will continue to for as long as I damn well please. In my mind, I'm still married. He is still and will always be my husband and I will always be his wife. I'm sure one day I will take my rings and his off and wear them on a chain for awhile, then eventually they'll probably make their home in my armoire. But for now, yes, I'm still wearing my rings, thank you very much.
There will come a day when I will have to go through his clothes and decide what to do with them. Today is not that day. I don't know when that day will be, but when it does, I think I'll just know.
Some things I will never give up.....
The shirt he wore when we ran off and got married?? Never.
The shirt he wore when we got "married again" in New Orleans?? Never ever.
The blue Salty Dog t-shirt he wore to many a fun time we had (including the tattoo fiasco?) and proclaimed his favorite?? Never ever ever.
His favorite Eagles sweatshirt? OMDB.
His favorite overalls and Auburn hat that he called his "project uniform"? Nope.
His Yankees hats and shirts ? No, I wear them now.
Along with several other shirts and jackets and hats and doo-dahs that I will keep forever. The Irish lady shirt we shared especially.....
There are many things of his that will eventually find a new home, but not just yet. I'm just not ready. And that's just fine with me.
Friday
Flashback Friday....
Me and my daddy at a Falcons football game in the Singapore American Football League....I'm pretty sure from the look on my face we were losing.....
Wednesday
20 Things I would like you to hear....
I stole this me-me idea from Karl , Hilly, and Shannon. And Adam, Cheeky and the place I saw if first, at Britt's.
The idea is to say things that you have wanted to say but never have.
So here we go, and yes you self-absorbed nitwit, they're all about you. ;p
20 Things I would like you to hear......
1. I always thought you were cool and smart and a great person, but now that I know you and you have reached out to me and become my friend even though you are the busiest person in town, I thank you. You have helped me through the last four months more than you will ever know and I know for sure that you are made of AWESOME.
2. I am disappointed in you. You live 20-30 minutes away but can't take the time to come by and say hi or just hang out. I have internet friends that are flying in from other states to see me and you can't be bothered with traffic.
3. When you say "if there's anything you need I'm here"? I don't believe you because you haven't been here for me yet.
4. You need to keep your boyfriend from getting drunk and coming to my house at midnight before I shoot him or call the police on his sorry ass. This was the second time. Three strikes and he's out.
5. You are a better person than you think, and just because someone has told you otherwise, then left your life, doesn't mean you have to keep believing what they said.
6. You are my family, yet you haven't even called. You suck.
7. You will always be one of the most important people in my life and my biggest regret in moving is that I had to leave you. I miss you, I think about you every day and get teary eyed when I think of what you mean to me and the friendship you have given me since I was a teenager with a crush on you. Thank you.
8. Every time I see you walking across the parking lot towards me I get a warm fuzzy feeling inside.
9. I'm glad you (and you and you and you and you) found me on FaceBook. I think it's awesome that we can pick up our friendship like it was never interrupted !
10. I wish I hadn't said some of the things I said to you last time we talked. I was letting my anger control my voice, and I am trying not to do that .
11. I know you are always going to make me feel better with just a hug and a hi !
12. I think you're really going to regret not spending more time with my Dad when he is gone, and I hope you snap the hell out of your little world and come see him.
13. You need to mind your business and not mine and quit telling my EX-husband about my recent loss. It's not his business, hence the EX. That's the reason I don't talk to you anymore.
14. Stop drunk dialing me because you've run off all of your other friends after they found out what I did about you - that you're toxic.
15. I am glad that something good happened to you this week and I hope it's the beginning of the good and the end of the crapstorm you've been in lately. I'm tired of life being bad for us.
16. I always read your blog but I don't comment every time because I'm afraid I'll type something lame and look not so smart. And I want to be all cool and blog-worthy like you.
17. I really don't think I'm a strong person like you keep telling me I am, but I hope you're right, cause if I'm not, I'm really in trouble.
18. I wish I had your dedication to take better care of myself. I used to, but I lost it a while back and haven't been able to find it again. Could you help me?
19. Remember back in the day when you used to ask me if me and a certain someone "had something going"? Yea, we did. For almost 17 years. In our tiny little town. Nosy.
20. Be thankful for the time you have with him or her, even if they "drive you crazy".You'll miss that crazy when they're gone, believe me.
The idea is to say things that you have wanted to say but never have.
So here we go, and yes you self-absorbed nitwit, they're all about you. ;p
20 Things I would like you to hear......
1. I always thought you were cool and smart and a great person, but now that I know you and you have reached out to me and become my friend even though you are the busiest person in town, I thank you. You have helped me through the last four months more than you will ever know and I know for sure that you are made of AWESOME.
2. I am disappointed in you. You live 20-30 minutes away but can't take the time to come by and say hi or just hang out. I have internet friends that are flying in from other states to see me and you can't be bothered with traffic.
3. When you say "if there's anything you need I'm here"? I don't believe you because you haven't been here for me yet.
4. You need to keep your boyfriend from getting drunk and coming to my house at midnight before I shoot him or call the police on his sorry ass. This was the second time. Three strikes and he's out.
5. You are a better person than you think, and just because someone has told you otherwise, then left your life, doesn't mean you have to keep believing what they said.
6. You are my family, yet you haven't even called. You suck.
7. You will always be one of the most important people in my life and my biggest regret in moving is that I had to leave you. I miss you, I think about you every day and get teary eyed when I think of what you mean to me and the friendship you have given me since I was a teenager with a crush on you. Thank you.
8. Every time I see you walking across the parking lot towards me I get a warm fuzzy feeling inside.
9. I'm glad you (and you and you and you and you) found me on FaceBook. I think it's awesome that we can pick up our friendship like it was never interrupted !
10. I wish I hadn't said some of the things I said to you last time we talked. I was letting my anger control my voice, and I am trying not to do that .
11. I know you are always going to make me feel better with just a hug and a hi !
12. I think you're really going to regret not spending more time with my Dad when he is gone, and I hope you snap the hell out of your little world and come see him.
13. You need to mind your business and not mine and quit telling my EX-husband about my recent loss. It's not his business, hence the EX. That's the reason I don't talk to you anymore.
14. Stop drunk dialing me because you've run off all of your other friends after they found out what I did about you - that you're toxic.
15. I am glad that something good happened to you this week and I hope it's the beginning of the good and the end of the crapstorm you've been in lately. I'm tired of life being bad for us.
16. I always read your blog but I don't comment every time because I'm afraid I'll type something lame and look not so smart. And I want to be all cool and blog-worthy like you.
17. I really don't think I'm a strong person like you keep telling me I am, but I hope you're right, cause if I'm not, I'm really in trouble.
18. I wish I had your dedication to take better care of myself. I used to, but I lost it a while back and haven't been able to find it again. Could you help me?
19. Remember back in the day when you used to ask me if me and a certain someone "had something going"? Yea, we did. For almost 17 years. In our tiny little town. Nosy.
20. Be thankful for the time you have with him or her, even if they "drive you crazy".You'll miss that crazy when they're gone, believe me.
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.
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