Tag Archives: Grief

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Near Miss

I saw my girlfriend on Thursday night. We talked and she had a tight right hip given that she sat on the floor for an hour that day and her toddler was jumping on her. It felt like the muscle was pulling in her sacrum.

I’ve had sciatica before and also have fractured and broken so many things that I just intuitively get the body.

I think that she was shocked after working it for about 15-minutes while she laid on her side how much it released. I asked her to lay on her back and she said that it felt better. The next day she texted me thank you and said that her whole hip felt great.

We’ve both had wicked colds. I realized that although I never get sick enough to miss work and generally have a wonderful immune system that I’ll be getting new things given that I’m dating a mother of a really little child. They’re pretty full of germs and have to build up their immunity.

It’s fine. She’s the third mother who I have dated. There is an overall lack of self-absorption and also divided energy that mothers have. I have that presentation too, and she and I have talked about it. I told her once, “When you get another girlfriend, it will be strange if she’s not a mother.” She told me that wouldn’t interest her at all.

In fact, she really only has time for her ex-husband and me anyway. She’s running a practice and does active parenting. Her kid goes the the kid’s gym, gymnastics, preschool twice a week, little hikes, and her daughter rides her scooter in many parks and swims.

They were going swimming yesterday (Friday). They often go to a pool fairly far away so they had to travel on one of our really busy interstates.

My girlfriend swerved into a lane yesterday which was thankfully empty to avoid a car that was going to hit her. Twenty-minutes later she saw that car again, and it had collided with two other cars.

I got a long text in the three o’clock hour about it.

Immediately, my eyes welled up with tears.

I am not a stranger to someone being suddenly gone. My brother was just dead after we got hit. The priest told me when he was giving me the last rites–which he wasn’t supposed to do–and I tried to get out of the gurney, but couldn’t because my pelvis was in three pieces. My former sister-in-law was just gone after having bike ride plans. That is how life really is. You don’t know how many days you have left.

After expressing being scared, relieved, and asking what I could do, I just sent a simple text to her.

It said: “I need to tell you that I love you. Sorry that I didn’t say it to you yesterday.”

After her hip had been addressed on Thursday and she could lay on her back, I laid mostly across her and she was rubbing my back. Her touch is just incredible. It’s relaxing and tender. I realized that I am in love with her. We talked a little more and then it was nine, so I just got up.

Her night time routine takes an hour and a half. Going to bed at 10:30, spending an active day with a toddler and then seeing clients all night is just unfathomable to me. She’s only just under three-years younger than I am. There isn’t any way that I could do it.

She asked where I was going and I said “Home,” and walked out of her apartment through her prep room and then into the practice area. I said, “It’s nine.” She followed me out and hugged and kissed me. We wound up talking in the foyer and then talking more when I went down the first flight of stairs. I was looking up at her. She’s so beautiful. I said, “This is Shakespearean. It’s as if I’m professing my love to you.”

She laughed and blew me a kiss and said something, but the moment was making me turn red and making my heart race a little bit, so I said, “Goodnight,” and walked down the last flight of stairs.

That could’ve been a moment of regret in an instant had the car slammed into her yesterday. Life is so short.

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Life and Death

At the beginning of May I got a text from my aunt who lived at my parents’ house April of 2020 through mid-December of 2021 which said that my Mom’s only brother’s wife (my Aunt by marriage) had Stage 4 Brain and Lung Cancer and wouldn’t be seeking treatment. In the text it said that I was only to go through her and not anyone else. That felt weird so I said that I would send a message to my other cousin through FB because I had communication with her there and she freaked out. I get it. She’s 70 and thinks that people can read private messages.

I called her and she was so upset that she spent most of our conversation yelling at me. That’s about her and isn’t about me. She’s about the same right now and really negative so I’m not talking to her or communicating with her much. I never had noticed how much unsolicited advice that she gives either until this time.

She called me Saturday afternoon and I was in a coffee shop.

I was at a coffee shop because my house is still tented, plastic is everywhere and the rooms are either barren or have odd things around such as ladders, equipment and I don’t have faces on many of my cabinets as repainting those is a whole 3-day process that the project manager has described as “tedious.” I was taking space from this disorder in a local coffee shop.

When my Aunt called I said, “Hi, I’m in a coffee shop and I’ll have to go outside,” and then when I walked outside and put my cell back to my ear she was still talking. She then said, “I’m not sure that I’m supposed to tell you but Aunt _______ passed away this afternoon,” and I said, “Thank you for letting me know, I’ll text ________.” She told me don’t call until tomorrow. I said, “Ok, thanks for letting me know.” She talked about my not calling or getting into contact with my cousins today some more and I just listened to her prattle and didn’t say anything because she’s been on edge and prone to yelling. I know it’s stress, but I can avoid being the recipient of her mismanagement of it.

I texted my cousin and she and I exchanged texts afternoon and evening on Saturday. My other cousin, who I recently had breakfast with when she was here for an appointment with her daughter, texted me too.

It’s going to be really rough, but I’ll drive approximately 5-hours  before the sun comes up on Thursday morning to attend my Aunt’s wake and funeral. I’m driving back around 1 pm or so because I don’t want to be away from my house or pets. Luckily, my neighbors are feeding (both meals) and tending to my pets a few times on Thursday.

I’m loyal to this Aunt. She has put flowers on my brother’s grave for years. This uncle, who is my Mom’s only brother and was married to my Aunt, drove my brother’s body to this area where my mother’s family was born and farmed. He got my brother’s body to the church and he’s buried near my Grandfather who I adored.

They’re good people and I’m proud to have them as my family.

When my mother died, my son, my then wife, the Aunt who took care of my parents’ house, my Uncle (mother’s brother) and my cousin and I conducted a short graveside service at my brother’s and grandfather’s grave for my parents. We spread ashes of my parents’ on those graves. Doves landed on the wires and sang songs. It was nice and simple.

I’m really glad to be there for this cousin on Thursday to be part of rituals for the loss of her mother. Sadly, her mother was my cousin’s self-described “person,” and from what I’ve gathered via text was her touchstone. This loss will be incredibly difficult for her. Like me, she has one brother, and I’ve not seen him in nearly 30-years. It will be nice to see him; although, that our connection is at his mother’s funeral is sad. His sister is a gem and wrote to my mother for years. There were times that my mother received her letters when she was in the facility too. Again, they’re wonderful family members.

Rituals for the dead are really for the living
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Mom

I’ve been thinking about Mom and dreaming about her a lot lately. I’m reasonably sure that I know why.

I feel like that I’m having time to be and breathe. I’m sure, too, that given that it’s Easter this weekend, I am thinking about holidays without family.

Sunday, I have an invitation to friends, and I know that I’ve written here that I don’t say no to those, but I have been eating yogurt, eggs and canned soup and don’t want to be around yummy food and alcohol. I also don’t want to talk about the hole in my mouth with people whom I don’t really know. I’ve known this colleague for 24-years this fall, but she’s an extrovert’s extrovert, so loves to entertain and make small talk. LA always invites me to these things–she’s really close with this colleague–and I did go to the Blues BBQ (live band) and also Christmas Eve. I am not going to Easter. In fact, I’ll do yard work which is a lot like my Dad!

My Dad worked for the City and County. He’d dropped out of a Civil Engineering Program because my Mom had me and they had very little money and mice in the housing provided near campus via the GI bill. That was a contention. As was my ever being born. I had colic and my father always said that he was going to leave me screaming in the snow. Mom said that once I could imitate opera voices on the radio at about 4-months of age, I stopped screaming.

(I have said to my son ad nauseum, “You didn’t ask to be born. I will make sure that you have medical and dental care until you’re 26. I will also write a check for any tuition bill that you produce for me.” He has about 7k left in his ESA, so I’m going to set up a trust for 150k that I manage until he’s 30. I’m doing that in June. Trust me, this digression is topical.)

My Mom wanted kids. She said that my brother and I were the best things in her life.

She was sarcastic, a little mean, definitely depressed, and not quick with hugs or kisses, but always said, “I love you.” And she did love us.

We had no money. I really mean that too. My parents, both Boomers, were the last of the people who can buy a house on one salary. My Mom contributed off and on to living expenses, but never had a full-time teaching job likely because of her physical disability. She subbed for 4-5 years and would often come home with a migraine.

Today, I’m thinking about my Mom, the status of her teeth, her heavy smoking until she was in her 60s, and how much healthier and luckier than I am when compared to my Mom.

I was out in the backyard this morning giving my neighbor’s dogs and mine pieces of elk jerky, and my neighbor came out and asked about the hole. So, I have this screw and hole in my mouth right now. My neighbor will get her hole and screw in two-weeks.

We’ve been trying to figure out how her process is so much longer than mine. Her tooth broke eight-months ago. We figured it out today.

My Mom made sure that we went to the dentist every 6-months. She made sure that the weird tooth that came in sideways was addressed with a retainer. I have great teeth. So, it was easy for the dentist to drill it, pack it, help me make an appointment with a talented specialist, and I will see him five-days before I get a tooth colored crown. My parents were poor for sure–lower middle class, I guess–but we got good dental care.

My Mom didn’t support me going to graduate school. My Mom was mostly horrified about what others thought of her having a lesbian daughter. My Mom’s ashes that I have left could ignite given that I don’t want one partner and would never live with anyone ever again. However, my Mom loved and took care of me.

Tell me about your Mom. I don’t know you, so don’t worry, I am not impersonating Freud. Freud is mostly only good for defense mechanisms.

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The Oven Mitt

I was born in the city that I live in; however, my Dad was in a Civil Engineering program 25-miles away so I was first taken as a newborn to married student housing. We moved when I was 13-months, and then we moved all the time literally. This particular move was because my Dad dropped out of the program. I was always thinly blamed for that, which is so stupid. I didn’t ask to be born.

I guess that I had wicked colic. My Mom never much of an eater, and she said that I just basically screamed all the time; but given that my Mom really only liked coffee and cigarettes, I’m sure that my food wasn’t nourishing. I was weaned at 3-months. My Mom was obsessed with me. She held me while I slept. I eventually slept in 16-hour stretches. I guess until I could move around, I was dissociative 🙂 May have had something to do with the fact that my Dad wanted to leave me to die in the snow when I was screaming. My Mom told me that. He decided against it and when I was 5-months, I wasn’t colicky anymore.

On the fourth of July in 1981, I climbed up the hill behind the four-plex that we were renting at the time and got comfortable. That was the only time in my life that I have ever been stung by a bee. When bees sting you, they die and the barb stays. I’d been stung on the wrist and my arm looked like Popeye that night. I love bees. I know that if I hadn’t probably almost squished it in the clover where it was working, it wouldn’t have stung me. My arm was HUGE and we had to keep mixing a paste of meat tenderizer for it. My Mom did that many times and then I started doing it. I was 7-years-old when I got my first sting.

I do not love wasps. I do not love hornets. I have a complete disdain for yellow jacket wasps.

I have to complete all the conditions of probate. I have to file estate taxes by next June. I have to obtain a Personal Representatives Deed. Since 2014 these are many types of tasks that I have had to do. It’s well different than fighting with doctors who wouldn’t let my Mom get surgery, wouldn’t let my Dad take Seroquel, etc. He couldn’t even have one shot of whiskey. Not one. He asked the Medicaid Physician to kill him in November of 2019 and the rounding doctor said he wasn’t terminal. He told my Dad to pray. My Dad told him that he was an atheist. The doctor said, “Pray for death.” Did it work? He got COVID 5-months later.

My son and I went to the house to use weed whackers, but because the soil is so good the prickly lettuce was like bamboo. The Russian thistle could mostly be pulled, but some really had thick stalks. We borrowed hand shears and a bypass lopper from a neighbor. This neighbor wants to buy the house. That would be great. We could stop doing yard work then because I could sell it for 20k less.

The whole thing is Monopoly money anyway. 75k goes to my ex-wife and I have to ensure that I don’t do anything which will result in my having to pay capital gains taxes. Luckily, the final estate appraisal fee can come out of the estate account. There is very little money in there and I’ve already paid $6787.03 out of my pocket, and don’t want to pay anything again. Oddly, that is about what my debt is for the the next 19-months. Almost to the penny. I thought of it as the retainer for the lawyer, new engine mounts for my vehicle, and the trees and irrigation system, but it was really about what I was short this year. I know it didn’t help to be paying maintenance.

The subcontractors who work for the company that gets their piece of the Monopoly money pile at closing are actual shitty people. New things were Cheeto shrapnel, Monster cans and a divided lime. The latter was on the mailbox. When I moved it, a yellow jacket decided to sting me. I think he wanted the lime for a food home. I was able to do 3-hours of yard work, and it certainly hurt. However, yesterday my hand was disappearing. I went back and forth to Urgent Care because my insurance had changed and I initially had forgotten my cellphone. Anyway, it got so gross last night even through two Prednisone. I know that I’m not technically allergic to stings, but I do get weird reactions. I hope that I can bowl on Wednesday. The oven mitt that my hand has become reminded me of my first sting, and how these subcontractors are really unprofessional and sloppy.

Fat, red, swollen hand is difficult to use. Last night it was also past the wrist and 2/3 of the way up my forearm
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All Caught Up

I feel so much better today compared to the way that I felt yesterday. I was just heavy and low.

Zumba was actually cute. I’m still hideous, but don’t care one bit. My son went with me! He is actually a really good dancer so although he had no clue about the steps and turns, he just danced his ass off! He got in the car in an “Iron Maiden” t-shirt which is so funny. He dresses like the boys that I hung out with on the smoking pad (patio) next to our lunchroom in high school, but tends to wear very tight jeans. He had on his plaid wool cap too. He looked a bit like Matt Dillon in “Singles” as well. I put my foot down and made him change into the sweatpants that I bring in the car, which are usually for when I pick him up in the morning at a friend’s house and he smells like death. I have drum sticks and a North Face t-shirt too that I keep in my car. I thanked him for dancing with me. He’ll dance with his current girlfriend at the climber’s house on the 25th too. I’m so glad he’s moving. It has been so alarming to watch him gain so much weight since the pandemic.

I finished “Broken Horses.” Although I really don’t desire ever to speak to my ex-wife again, I’m so grateful that she introduced me to Brandi Carlile. We saw her 5 times together, I think. She’s phenomenal and her book is so raw, vulnerable, and authentic. It makes you want to chill with her.

I have book club this afternoon. “The Devil’s Rooming House” was really good. I like to read books that are put together with research and don’t get into the psychology very heavily, because then I can do diagnostic decision trees in my head while I read it. Not that I would ever want to touch murderer’s diagnoses, but it’s fun intellectually. I’ll leave that stuff to people like James Garbarino.

I think that some of my mood was because my son was so nice. He walked the dogs with me on Friday night, and went to Zumba. He rarely does anything without being asked. And, I have to be on his ass constantly about doing his laundry and ordering his room before he leaves to be with his girlfriend. He was nice for many hours and then spent the day with his Dad, and I really don’t have money right now to go out, so I read, weeded, and hung out with my pets. I think that yesterday was just derivative mostly of the quiet reflection and some of the things that I’m going through currently are in fact, sad.

I refilled my shower gel and met a sweet runt Norwegian Elk Hound and the proprietor told me that her name is Smokey and that she has so many nicknames that Smokey is just one of her names. I told her about the name cluster chart for one of my cats, and she got it. That is the first time that anyone has understood how nicknames can have other off shoots from other nicknames and why I’d have a chart of that. She was my brand of weirdo. I love weirdos.

I thought about my Mom.

I thought about my son.

I thought about how I’m a weirdo and that was one thing that my ex-wife just got.

I thought about how weird it is that I’ll be selling this house soon.

The good thing was that my sad, psychic energy reached my mentor. She texted me out of the blue with my sign-in note from her art show that she had in 2015 or so. Then she sent me some of her work that she’ll be showing soon in Santa Fe. I saw something that no one had. After a bit she asked how I was and I said pretty low today. She said that she was glad to connect in those valleys. I love her. She’ll be traveling soon, and I’ll get to see her. I’m really lucky.

I guess that I better use a little bit of this momentum and walk my dogs and scoop litter. Then I can lift before I shower and go to book club. I don’t know if I’ll see (except briefly) my son until afternoon. He’s walking home from his Dad’s apartment in a couple of hours. I’ll cook chicken piccata tonight. I think that I’ll have him bike with me to Whole Foods to select a veggie. Costco didn’t have brussels sprouts when we went on Friday, and that was a small tragedy. Again, I own that I’m a weirdo.

These are some drawings that my Dad did which I found in a footlocker one time