That xanga flashback has been brought to you by the year 2004.
I've discovered I don't like packing. I used to. But then packing started to involve crying and hospitals. Every time Nathan had to go to the ER I would cry. He would always calm me down and tell me it was going to be ok... but every time it would just break me down.. at the time when I needed the most to keep it together I would lose it. And packing brings it all back... all the times I was just throwing things into a suitcase cause we were leaving in 30 minutes for St. Louis... or I needed to get back to the hospital to Nathan. It's time to start having positive associations with packing again. I need to go on many happy vacations. I'm actually really excited that Kara is having her baby at Cox, because 1) Hopefully when I go to visit her I will be able to visit the beauties of 5 West and 2) it's going to be a happy time in a hospital... I'm actually really glad that Nathan was at Barnes when he died... because I may never have to go there again, and if I do, it's very doubtful that it will be that ICU.
Guess what? My Prius will be in very soon! It's coming sometime from the 20th to the 25th... which is the time that I will be at home for, unfortunately...Darn missing the awesome gas mileage on this trip! But this will give the Jeep and I one last hurrah, before I have to clean it out... The salesman had previously told me I got the last Prius on the lot for 4 months, and he told me today that they'd heard from Toyota and Toyota is cutting back the numbers you can order and putting dealerships on backlog... (I'm sure it's because of all the horrible things that have happened in Japan lately :( Pray for Japan.) So he told me I actually got the last Prius on the lot for 6 months to a year (except for the used ones that might appear at any moment and be snatched up just as quickly). He said it was divine intervention that I was able to get one. I like to think it was, even if I know that God isn't overly concerned about my car. He's concerned about me and I was concerned about a car.
Just now I was cleaning off my desk and discovered a card with a donation to the Memorial Fund in it... I may have let the mail on my desk pile up a bit... and by a bit I mean a whole lot.... like this was mailed at the end of February... and it's late mid-April. Nathan would be going crazy if he had to put up with the state of the desk right now. When I get back you all have to tell me to clean up the office, cause it's getting bad.
Ok I need to go and finish packing.. I feel like I should say goodbye to you, but that's the wonderful thing about the internet... you aren't actually going to be away from me. You are coming, too!
BTW I will attempt to remember to take pictures so you can know where you are going... with me.
Ok, bye for now. Love you, bunches. Or as Nathan and I used to say, "Love you bunches and bunches of oats... all of them... All the bunches and all the oats.... Love you all the bunches." We had a tendency to create our own little scripts... and we had a thing about repeating the same thing over and over. It's a little hard to explain, but just go with it. I loved him all the bunches.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Remember that?
I leave for northern MO in 2 days...well technically, I'll be in northern MO in two days... I leave in the middle of the day. Don't worry, though, I'm sure my sister will let me use her computer to blog while I'm at home. Oh and for any robber types out there reading this, I live in an apartment complex right next door to my best friend who doesn't work and frequently drops by my place when I am not there to "borrow" Pepsis and movies/TV shows. And my landlord is around all the time, too, Not to mention I don't really have that good of stuff to steal.. so let it go, man, let it go.
Anyway all that to say: I need to pack.... and do laundry. The days have escaped me, so tomorrow night is gonna be a bit of a scramble to get everything together. I do so love a challenge, I suppose.... I'm not actually sure that is a true statement I just uttered.... or typed.
Oh, here's a challenge I love- Song challenge time! There is a rather popular current song where a group of people are singing "When they..." and it's auto tuned... Every time I hear it, I think, "That sounds like they are singing, 'Renée.'" Can you figure out what song I'm speaking of? Bonus random song tidbit: I like to think that in the song "Dynamite" Taio Cruz is actually singing, "I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, saying ay-oh, Galileo." (actual lyric is "gotta let go") I think the song is much more amusing when you think about it being sung to the Italian physicist/mathematician/astronomer. Taio and his homeboy Galileo, gonna rock that club.
Do you remember a while ago when I said that I got news that made me gasp and then sob? Well, I've finally been given permission to blog about it. Kara (and Josh) are having a baby boy! And they are naming him Bolt, which I just love. It's Josh's mom's maiden name and both Josh and his sister's middle names and it's just an awesome name. But the news that made me gasp and cry is that his middle name is going to be Nathan.... for my Nathan. Makes me tear up again, just typing it. Nathan would have been so honored. I'm so touched. I love my friends very much.
Today I was at a meeting where people were talking about our church, and someone said something, that I'm taking totally out of context. He was talking about our church and the things he has seen God do in/through the church and feeling like it could repeat, if He wants.. and the way this person described it was that he felt like God said, "Remember that? I can do it again...." And it got to me, in a big way- though personally rather than in the general church context, as it was meant to refer. You see, the whole time I was sitting in the meeting I was just so sad, because I was missing Nathan.. I was missing the camaraderie... someone who I can talk to with just a glance... someone whose exact thoughts I know, just by their body language. And then this guy said, "Remember that? I can do it again. And it may not look exactly the same, but I can do it again." And I stopped being able to subtly hide my tears... Because I was suddenly flooded with all the memories of how wonderful my relationship with Nathan was...
I get so scared sometimes that I've used up/ filled up my love card. That God will get back to me when He's matched up all the other deserving people in the world (cause you know that God makes people wait their turn, don't cha?) Or that any other relationship I have is going to somehow be diluted, because I was once married to someone else, or just that something will somehow be *less* than what I once had... and having someone remind me that God can do it again- and while it won't be the same, it will be just as good... Remember that friendship? I can do it again. Remember that understanding? I can do it again. Remember that laughter? I can do it again. Remember that happiness? I can do it again. Remember that sense of comfort and peace? I can do it again. Remember that love? I can do it again. Remember that joy? I can do it again. It got to me... What I had with Nathan doesn't have to end with Nathan's life. Remember that? I can do it again. That and someone hugged me in a, "we love you, and it's going to be ok" kind of a way, just as all of that started to hit. Sympathy: easiest way to cause me to break down, ever... Well that and yelling at me, but sympathy is much nicer.
I think I'm still trying to figure out how to grieve as a part of a community... how to let others see it happen in me. I mean I know I share on here... but in person, I try to keep under control as much as I can. Melissa was telling me tonight that letting others see what's happening in me is good for them.. and in a lot of ways that's a foreign concept to me. I feel like me being strong is good for people. And don't get me wrong, sometimes I'm "strong" because I'm feeling strong... but sometimes I'm strong cause I don't want to bring everyone down... and admit that I'm not. Oh grief, you fickle minx.
In other news, Nathan's cousin posted this blog link on Facebook that I have to share with you. It's about dying eggs for Easter. Dying them to make the coolest flipping eggs I've ever seen in my entire life. I fully expect the thrift stores in Springfield to be out of silk ties by the end of the day, this is that cool.
Seriously- Look at this.
I might start buying a collection of silk things now- for the Easter of my future children.
"For the Easter of my future children" I really like the feel of that phrase... like it should be in a poem, or the end of a piece of classic literature... It's like a hopeful version of "the winter of our discontent."
Wow... yes, I did just compare my writing to that of William Shakespeare... My ego apparently knows no bounds.
Anyway all that to say: I need to pack.... and do laundry. The days have escaped me, so tomorrow night is gonna be a bit of a scramble to get everything together. I do so love a challenge, I suppose.... I'm not actually sure that is a true statement I just uttered.... or typed.
Oh, here's a challenge I love- Song challenge time! There is a rather popular current song where a group of people are singing "When they..." and it's auto tuned... Every time I hear it, I think, "That sounds like they are singing, 'Renée.'" Can you figure out what song I'm speaking of? Bonus random song tidbit: I like to think that in the song "Dynamite" Taio Cruz is actually singing, "I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, saying ay-oh, Galileo." (actual lyric is "gotta let go") I think the song is much more amusing when you think about it being sung to the Italian physicist/mathematician/astronomer. Taio and his homeboy Galileo, gonna rock that club.
Do you remember a while ago when I said that I got news that made me gasp and then sob? Well, I've finally been given permission to blog about it. Kara (and Josh) are having a baby boy! And they are naming him Bolt, which I just love. It's Josh's mom's maiden name and both Josh and his sister's middle names and it's just an awesome name. But the news that made me gasp and cry is that his middle name is going to be Nathan.... for my Nathan. Makes me tear up again, just typing it. Nathan would have been so honored. I'm so touched. I love my friends very much.
Today I was at a meeting where people were talking about our church, and someone said something, that I'm taking totally out of context. He was talking about our church and the things he has seen God do in/through the church and feeling like it could repeat, if He wants.. and the way this person described it was that he felt like God said, "Remember that? I can do it again...." And it got to me, in a big way- though personally rather than in the general church context, as it was meant to refer. You see, the whole time I was sitting in the meeting I was just so sad, because I was missing Nathan.. I was missing the camaraderie... someone who I can talk to with just a glance... someone whose exact thoughts I know, just by their body language. And then this guy said, "Remember that? I can do it again. And it may not look exactly the same, but I can do it again." And I stopped being able to subtly hide my tears... Because I was suddenly flooded with all the memories of how wonderful my relationship with Nathan was...
I get so scared sometimes that I've used up/ filled up my love card. That God will get back to me when He's matched up all the other deserving people in the world (cause you know that God makes people wait their turn, don't cha?) Or that any other relationship I have is going to somehow be diluted, because I was once married to someone else, or just that something will somehow be *less* than what I once had... and having someone remind me that God can do it again- and while it won't be the same, it will be just as good... Remember that friendship? I can do it again. Remember that understanding? I can do it again. Remember that laughter? I can do it again. Remember that happiness? I can do it again. Remember that sense of comfort and peace? I can do it again. Remember that love? I can do it again. Remember that joy? I can do it again. It got to me... What I had with Nathan doesn't have to end with Nathan's life. Remember that? I can do it again. That and someone hugged me in a, "we love you, and it's going to be ok" kind of a way, just as all of that started to hit. Sympathy: easiest way to cause me to break down, ever... Well that and yelling at me, but sympathy is much nicer.
I think I'm still trying to figure out how to grieve as a part of a community... how to let others see it happen in me. I mean I know I share on here... but in person, I try to keep under control as much as I can. Melissa was telling me tonight that letting others see what's happening in me is good for them.. and in a lot of ways that's a foreign concept to me. I feel like me being strong is good for people. And don't get me wrong, sometimes I'm "strong" because I'm feeling strong... but sometimes I'm strong cause I don't want to bring everyone down... and admit that I'm not. Oh grief, you fickle minx.
In other news, Nathan's cousin posted this blog link on Facebook that I have to share with you. It's about dying eggs for Easter. Dying them to make the coolest flipping eggs I've ever seen in my entire life. I fully expect the thrift stores in Springfield to be out of silk ties by the end of the day, this is that cool.
Seriously- Look at this.
"For the Easter of my future children" I really like the feel of that phrase... like it should be in a poem, or the end of a piece of classic literature... It's like a hopeful version of "the winter of our discontent."
Wow... yes, I did just compare my writing to that of William Shakespeare... My ego apparently knows no bounds.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Ketchup! I keep forgetting to buy ketchup!
I'm going to attempt to avoid staying up as late as I did yesterday.
I'll only tell you how late it was if you remember that I'm adorable.
You remember?
5:30.... AM.
Yeah, I know..... that really is bad... I know lots of people get *up* at 5:30 AM... and starving children in Zimbabwae don't even get to stay up, much less until 5:30 AM... ok, so that metaphor doesn't stand up to being taken totally out of context. Memo to self.
I ran into my friend at Wal-mart at 11:30 tonight... Neither of us normally shop at 11:30 at night, but I told her to tie her shoe. I think it might have been divine intervention. I mean what if she has continued to shop with an untied shoelace? She might have tripped and hurt herself and been unable to work out for months! ... and she's a fitness class instructor so that would really have been much worse than it sounds.
I bought some cereal and I have to ask- crisped rice cereal- are all the "Pebbles" brand flattened or just "Cupcake Pebbles?" Because I don't remember Cocoa Krispies being flattened and I know the off brand aren't.. but my cupcake pebbles were flattened. Hey, stop judging me for getting a cereal called cupcake pebbles... They have to be better for you than an actual cupcake-- I mean all breakfast cereals add vitamins and minerals and cupcakerys don't do that. Sides you know you're just jealous.
Why is it that whenever I want to go to bed earlier I have stuff I have to get done- "And miles to go before I sleep" but whenever I want to stay up late I have nothing to do... or is it that I have nothing to do and so I stay up late? Chicken... egg.... chicken.... egg....
Suddenly
feeling
rather like
Will-
iam
Shatner.
"That's the one I left out. God bless Kirk!" (the names have been changed to protect the innocent... quote integrity.) Cause really when was the last time you heard about quote integrity doing something bad? Never, right? I think it's pretty well as innocent as they come.
I think there might have been a lot of sugar in those Cupcake Pebbles... But my daddy would tell you I'm just being hyper right before I crash.
I think my daddy is right.
I just described my blog tonight, and was told I needed to put it at the end. So I will, cause as we've talked about before, I'm easily bossed.
It's reads a lot like I turned my brain speed up to 90 and then just let it run around like a happy meal toy.
I'll only tell you how late it was if you remember that I'm adorable.
You remember?
5:30.... AM.
Yeah, I know..... that really is bad... I know lots of people get *up* at 5:30 AM... and starving children in Zimbabwae don't even get to stay up, much less until 5:30 AM... ok, so that metaphor doesn't stand up to being taken totally out of context. Memo to self.
I ran into my friend at Wal-mart at 11:30 tonight... Neither of us normally shop at 11:30 at night, but I told her to tie her shoe. I think it might have been divine intervention. I mean what if she has continued to shop with an untied shoelace? She might have tripped and hurt herself and been unable to work out for months! ... and she's a fitness class instructor so that would really have been much worse than it sounds.
I bought some cereal and I have to ask- crisped rice cereal- are all the "Pebbles" brand flattened or just "Cupcake Pebbles?" Because I don't remember Cocoa Krispies being flattened and I know the off brand aren't.. but my cupcake pebbles were flattened. Hey, stop judging me for getting a cereal called cupcake pebbles... They have to be better for you than an actual cupcake-- I mean all breakfast cereals add vitamins and minerals and cupcakerys don't do that. Sides you know you're just jealous.
Why is it that whenever I want to go to bed earlier I have stuff I have to get done- "And miles to go before I sleep" but whenever I want to stay up late I have nothing to do... or is it that I have nothing to do and so I stay up late? Chicken... egg.... chicken.... egg....
Suddenly
feeling
rather like
Will-
iam
Shatner.
"That's the one I left out. God bless Kirk!" (the names have been changed to protect the innocent... quote integrity.) Cause really when was the last time you heard about quote integrity doing something bad? Never, right? I think it's pretty well as innocent as they come.
I think there might have been a lot of sugar in those Cupcake Pebbles... But my daddy would tell you I'm just being hyper right before I crash.
I think my daddy is right.
I just described my blog tonight, and was told I needed to put it at the end. So I will, cause as we've talked about before, I'm easily bossed.
It's reads a lot like I turned my brain speed up to 90 and then just let it run around like a happy meal toy.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Blogging, karaoke, and an idea...
So I just read a friend's blog... ok, technically we aren't friends... we are just acquaintances from college... He writes a blog that I read from time to time, though he talks about baseball with alarming frequency, so I don't follow it religiously. Full disclosure, right? Anyway, he's going on vacation in the beginning of May, and he's looking for guest bloggers while he's gone... and I'm considering sending him a blog. It might be a little weird, but I figure if it's that weird he can always choose not to post it... and it could be interesting. It could draw more people to my blog. I mean I know that it's not about readership, but...I don't know... I want to be known I think... I want my story to be known. I want the world to know about Nathan... or at least more of the world. Ironic that I find ambition in this, isn't it? What marks you as an official blogger, eh? Is it when you hit a certain number of posts, or a certain amount of time posting with reliable frequency, or is it when suddenly the idea of writing a blog to post on someone else's blog sounds like it might be a good idea.
I'm not sure... at the moment it's just a thought... feels like I should have a good idea of what to talk about before I make a decision to send a post to someone else. Suddenly I feel like I'm back in the middle of play auditions all over again. Thank goodness I don't have to come up with 16 bars of music!
I kinda want to do karaoke... why do all the karaoke bars have to be so smokey? That's not helpful for the karaoke singer's lungs! Maybe I should just buy the Glee karaoke game and sing in the privacy of my own home to my own self. I'm kinda paranoid about my singing voice... I mean I'm not actually sure if I have a good voice or not...It sounds good in my head, but I've watched enough American Idol auditions to know that means *nothing*... and my family says so, but they kinda have to, and some people at my home church have told me so, but once again... when you start singing in church at age... (I'm gonna guess 5?) Well, of course they are going to give you compliments! It seems like when it really counts, though, there is always someone better... and yes, I understand that is the nature of life, to some extent, but when push comes to shove it seems like the people who really *know* music don't really care for my voice. It's kinda a bummer, cause I love to sing, but I dunno, after a while you start to take the hint. And then you switch your major to just regular theatre rather than putting yourself through the torture of vocal lessons with a lady who thinks you are a soprano and that there is something wrong with your vocal chords... I think it might have been hard for her to accept that I'm not an opera singer.... but that's just not something I'm cut out for, and I think I've always known that! *shudder* So, basically, I want to do karaoke because it gives me an excuse to sing, and an excuse to be terrible, if that's what I am... and no one will think that I think I'm any good, if I'm not. Oh the convolution that is my mind, sometimes! Seriously, I know I care too much.
Ok, blog world, that's not something that I think I've told anyone... Normally, I just thank people if they compliment me and never let on to the seething mass of insecurity that lies just underneath the surface. You know, I think that's pretty well how I live my life... a shiny surface to cover the turbulent waters of insecurity boiling through my veins. Perhaps that's how everyone lives their lives? I don't really know. I'm pretty sure it's not totally healthy, though.
*abrupt subject change*
I've been thinking about having some sort of gathering... I'm not really even sure what to call it... some sort of memoriam or wake or something. I want a place, a time, an event where people talk about Nathan. To tell funny stories or sweet stories or sad stories. I want to talk about him and I want to hear other people talk about him, but I'm afraid to do it. I think we all are, cause no one wants to bring it up to me... and I don't want to be the downer girl. But I want a place where I can laugh with people, where I can hear stories I never heard before, and relive/hear stories I've heard a million times... I want a time where I can cry and laugh and remember and not try and forget or hide when I am remembering. I haven't done it... a few times the days after we lost him I got together with friends and I thought it might be something akin to what I'm talking about, but it never was. It was too raw, too fresh, too hard, and I didn't know how to ask for it. What do you think? Am I the only one who feels the need for this?
I'm not sure... at the moment it's just a thought... feels like I should have a good idea of what to talk about before I make a decision to send a post to someone else. Suddenly I feel like I'm back in the middle of play auditions all over again. Thank goodness I don't have to come up with 16 bars of music!
I kinda want to do karaoke... why do all the karaoke bars have to be so smokey? That's not helpful for the karaoke singer's lungs! Maybe I should just buy the Glee karaoke game and sing in the privacy of my own home to my own self. I'm kinda paranoid about my singing voice... I mean I'm not actually sure if I have a good voice or not...It sounds good in my head, but I've watched enough American Idol auditions to know that means *nothing*... and my family says so, but they kinda have to, and some people at my home church have told me so, but once again... when you start singing in church at age... (I'm gonna guess 5?) Well, of course they are going to give you compliments! It seems like when it really counts, though, there is always someone better... and yes, I understand that is the nature of life, to some extent, but when push comes to shove it seems like the people who really *know* music don't really care for my voice. It's kinda a bummer, cause I love to sing, but I dunno, after a while you start to take the hint. And then you switch your major to just regular theatre rather than putting yourself through the torture of vocal lessons with a lady who thinks you are a soprano and that there is something wrong with your vocal chords... I think it might have been hard for her to accept that I'm not an opera singer.... but that's just not something I'm cut out for, and I think I've always known that! *shudder* So, basically, I want to do karaoke because it gives me an excuse to sing, and an excuse to be terrible, if that's what I am... and no one will think that I think I'm any good, if I'm not. Oh the convolution that is my mind, sometimes! Seriously, I know I care too much.
Ok, blog world, that's not something that I think I've told anyone... Normally, I just thank people if they compliment me and never let on to the seething mass of insecurity that lies just underneath the surface. You know, I think that's pretty well how I live my life... a shiny surface to cover the turbulent waters of insecurity boiling through my veins. Perhaps that's how everyone lives their lives? I don't really know. I'm pretty sure it's not totally healthy, though.
*abrupt subject change*
I've been thinking about having some sort of gathering... I'm not really even sure what to call it... some sort of memoriam or wake or something. I want a place, a time, an event where people talk about Nathan. To tell funny stories or sweet stories or sad stories. I want to talk about him and I want to hear other people talk about him, but I'm afraid to do it. I think we all are, cause no one wants to bring it up to me... and I don't want to be the downer girl. But I want a place where I can laugh with people, where I can hear stories I never heard before, and relive/hear stories I've heard a million times... I want a time where I can cry and laugh and remember and not try and forget or hide when I am remembering. I haven't done it... a few times the days after we lost him I got together with friends and I thought it might be something akin to what I'm talking about, but it never was. It was too raw, too fresh, too hard, and I didn't know how to ask for it. What do you think? Am I the only one who feels the need for this?
Friday, April 15, 2011
The "One"
I watched a movie today in which science had figured out a way to put a timer on your wrist that would count down the time until you met your soul mate... And people kept referring to their person as "the one." The main character had a timer, but hers was blank (which meant that her "one" didn't have a timer yet.) Now, I know the physics of this whole premise is insane... but I couldn't help but think how nice it would be, to just know, without a doubt who the "one" for you is. Only that's also where I ran into a problem with the movie. There was a widower in the movie... and he didn't have a timer. And eventually he gets a timer... and it has a count down... and so that means (it is inferred) that his 1st wife wasn't his "one." And that's where it all falls apart... Because if this is the person as they keep saying over and over that "you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with"... what happens when their life ends and yours doesn't? Does the timer reset with a new person? Does the new person's timer suddenly start up? How long does that take? Or is that just it? You don't get a new person. You had your one, and that's all there is. I pretty well hate all of these scenarios... Cause I think that Nathan was my one... but I also think there is another "one" out there somewhere... I have to think that. I can't give up being a romantic just because he's gone... it's too deeply ingrained into who I am. God is taking care of me in so many ways... I can't believe... I *won't* believe that He doesn't have a plan for this, too.
It's a short post tonight... I drank one of those bottled frappuchinos that you buy when you want some Starbucks, but don't want to go get it, and now I'm getting pretty sleepy... yes, that's right, I ingest caffeine and then get tired. I'm a whack job.
But I'm a loveable whack job.
And adorable. I'm totally adorable. Just trust me on that one. I'm an adorable, loveable whack job.
with delusions of grandeur,
and delusions of ducklings.
Only not so much that last one.
It's a short post tonight... I drank one of those bottled frappuchinos that you buy when you want some Starbucks, but don't want to go get it, and now I'm getting pretty sleepy... yes, that's right, I ingest caffeine and then get tired. I'm a whack job.
But I'm a loveable whack job.
And adorable. I'm totally adorable. Just trust me on that one. I'm an adorable, loveable whack job.
with delusions of grandeur,
and delusions of ducklings.
Only not so much that last one.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
How do you learn to be alone?
My sister wrote a blog post... It's beautiful... it made me cry... I seem to have a habit of buying presents that I won't be able to give... I bought an owl onesie for Rhonda's baby... Rhonda's angel baby, Corban. And I bought Nathan a scarf for his birthday...I know that's kinda a lame birthday gift, I was going to get him more, but never got the chance... Maybe I already told you this story? I'm not sure... but I don't want to go back and look, so I suppose I will tell it again. We went scarf shopping a few weeks before he went back to the hospital and he really liked this grey plaid scarf... but it didn't match what he would wear it with, so I told him he should buy the all black one... and he did... so I went back a few days later and got him the one he really liked... and I snuck it in the house and hid it from him... and I wish I hadn't, cause he never knew. I wish I'd just brought it in and given it to him right then. Such a small sadness, in the midst of everything else... but... He would have gotten so exctied about that silly scarf. He would always get so excited about the small things that just showed that you were paying attention to him... He didn't really care about gifts that much, but knowing that people loved him... he cared about that, a lot.
I want him back.
Weak and strong, weak and strong... I just bounce back and forth like one of those rubber balls you get from the quarter machine when you are little... Nathan loved those, too (the super balls, not the toy machines)... so much of him was still 5 years old... I loved that about him... How he couldn't wait to get home to play a new video game (and you'd best believe that was what was going to be happening as soon as we walked into the door.) I loved how he grinned at every opportunity and told me I was beautiful every single day. I loved how often he said he loved me... I loved so much about him... and I miss him so much. I went to Sam's club... It's a little strange but it was rather hard... Nothing makes a gal feel more alone than bulk food I guess... Especially when most of the bulk food she bought was for her husband who liked to get on food kicks...
I don't know how to grocery shop... everything seems to go bad before I can eat it all... this is why I have a refrigerator full of drinks but not very much food... Drinks mainly stay good... except for milk which I trade out every once in a while...same thing with cooking... I don't know how to cook for one person... I don't really know how to do very much alone... I don't know that I'm very good with alone at all... I don't know that I have much of a choice in the matter, though. I hate being alone. I hate that everyone has to leave... but if people stay over I start to feel trapped and I freak out, too... I'm pretty well a nutcase. Mainly cause I want one person to stay over... you know the one who "stayed over" for the last 3.5 years.
It's funny and so typically me that when I see people in the Sam's looking at me I want to say, "This isn't me... I'm not some single girl. I was married at 23! I was snatched up, cause I'm awesome! It's just that... my husband died. But I'm a secure, confident, married gal, on the inside!" Only I think I'm trying to convince myself more than I'm trying to convince anyone else-- Cause those people aren't really wondering about me and who I am and my relationship status... They probably don't even see me... unless it's as a mirror for their own insecurity, you know, like me.
I used to do that when I was a little kid... If I would be somewhere with one parent I would talk loudly around strangers about the other parent... you know, just so the strangers would know that I had two parents... Oh yes, it's a life long psychosis.
Being married was good for me... It was good for my self-confidence, it was good for my patience, and it was good to have someone to take care of... sometimes I wish we had had children... even though I know that would be so hard right now... and I'm not sure how we would have managed over the 16 months of treatment... but then I'd have a link... and something to throw myself into... and someone to take care of... and something to hide behind.
I want him back.
Weak and strong, weak and strong... I just bounce back and forth like one of those rubber balls you get from the quarter machine when you are little... Nathan loved those, too (the super balls, not the toy machines)... so much of him was still 5 years old... I loved that about him... How he couldn't wait to get home to play a new video game (and you'd best believe that was what was going to be happening as soon as we walked into the door.) I loved how he grinned at every opportunity and told me I was beautiful every single day. I loved how often he said he loved me... I loved so much about him... and I miss him so much. I went to Sam's club... It's a little strange but it was rather hard... Nothing makes a gal feel more alone than bulk food I guess... Especially when most of the bulk food she bought was for her husband who liked to get on food kicks...
I don't know how to grocery shop... everything seems to go bad before I can eat it all... this is why I have a refrigerator full of drinks but not very much food... Drinks mainly stay good... except for milk which I trade out every once in a while...same thing with cooking... I don't know how to cook for one person... I don't really know how to do very much alone... I don't know that I'm very good with alone at all... I don't know that I have much of a choice in the matter, though. I hate being alone. I hate that everyone has to leave... but if people stay over I start to feel trapped and I freak out, too... I'm pretty well a nutcase. Mainly cause I want one person to stay over... you know the one who "stayed over" for the last 3.5 years.
It's funny and so typically me that when I see people in the Sam's looking at me I want to say, "This isn't me... I'm not some single girl. I was married at 23! I was snatched up, cause I'm awesome! It's just that... my husband died. But I'm a secure, confident, married gal, on the inside!" Only I think I'm trying to convince myself more than I'm trying to convince anyone else-- Cause those people aren't really wondering about me and who I am and my relationship status... They probably don't even see me... unless it's as a mirror for their own insecurity, you know, like me.
I used to do that when I was a little kid... If I would be somewhere with one parent I would talk loudly around strangers about the other parent... you know, just so the strangers would know that I had two parents... Oh yes, it's a life long psychosis.
Being married was good for me... It was good for my self-confidence, it was good for my patience, and it was good to have someone to take care of... sometimes I wish we had had children... even though I know that would be so hard right now... and I'm not sure how we would have managed over the 16 months of treatment... but then I'd have a link... and something to throw myself into... and someone to take care of... and something to hide behind.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Nae Comin' Easter!
The mail is a fickle minx... Some days it's great to check the mail... some days I get mail from insurance and debt collectors... That's right, I'm back to the debt collectors... For some reason insurance can't get their stuff together right, and they pay the hospital the wrong amount... and trying to get them to take another look at the claims is ridiculous.... I hate red tape. I hate legalities. I understand the hospitals just want to be paid... I get that.. I get that most people don't have as good of an insurance policy as we do, so they are skeptical when someone tells them that it's not the right amount. But I *hate* being turned over to debt collectors for something that isn't my fault and for something that they won't believe isn't my fault... I don't like confrontation, and that's all this is... it makes me want to hide. It makes me want to sleep all afternoon. It makes me want to run away. It makes me want to cry. I'm not helpless, but this kind of stuff makes me feel like I am.
Well, I just started freaking out, but then I started talking to a friend and he reminded me of something very important things... 1) debt collectors are actually people with the job of debt collecting.... and they probably hate it. 2) They know nothing about me... they just get the math and the math spits out a number to them and the math sends me a letter and 3) I'm not in this alone... I have all of you who know me and love me and know that I'm a good person and this isn't my fault... All of you, who are my friends and don't think I would just refuse to pay a bill, or that I'm trying to cheat the system, or that I'm a bad person.
Oh I didn't claim that the reason I was freaking out was in any way logical or sensible.... If it was I probably wouldn't be freaking out... it's just when I get swept away by my emotions... It doesn't happen too often... I swear those IMDB personality tests just get confused by me... or maybe I'm confused enough about myself that I'm not answering them right.
I realized today that this time next week I will be writing you from Northeastern, MO. I'm going home for Easter. Well, actually for several days before Easter and Easter. I haven't been home for Easter in a really long time, and I'm excited. I'm going to dye eggs with my niece and nephew, and make a gingerbread church. Here is a blog with a gingerbread church-- only theirs is for Christmas time and ours will be Easter time. Have I told you about how Jeriah says, "Nae comin' Easter!" every time he hears my name?? Well, if I've talked to you in person I probably have... a few times, even. I'm kinda inordinately proud of it... and him... Rhonda said the other day Kadin was praying for me and Jeriah said "Nae comin' Easter" about 7 times in a row... gives me warm fuzzies to know he's 1) finally talking and 2) knows my name. There will be other sundry family activities, and it will be good to be back home... See my old stomping ground and the Memphis church family.
There is a song on the radio that goes somethin' like this:
Well, I just started freaking out, but then I started talking to a friend and he reminded me of something very important things... 1) debt collectors are actually people with the job of debt collecting.... and they probably hate it. 2) They know nothing about me... they just get the math and the math spits out a number to them and the math sends me a letter and 3) I'm not in this alone... I have all of you who know me and love me and know that I'm a good person and this isn't my fault... All of you, who are my friends and don't think I would just refuse to pay a bill, or that I'm trying to cheat the system, or that I'm a bad person.
Oh I didn't claim that the reason I was freaking out was in any way logical or sensible.... If it was I probably wouldn't be freaking out... it's just when I get swept away by my emotions... It doesn't happen too often... I swear those IMDB personality tests just get confused by me... or maybe I'm confused enough about myself that I'm not answering them right.
I realized today that this time next week I will be writing you from Northeastern, MO. I'm going home for Easter. Well, actually for several days before Easter and Easter. I haven't been home for Easter in a really long time, and I'm excited. I'm going to dye eggs with my niece and nephew, and make a gingerbread church. Here is a blog with a gingerbread church-- only theirs is for Christmas time and ours will be Easter time. Have I told you about how Jeriah says, "Nae comin' Easter!" every time he hears my name?? Well, if I've talked to you in person I probably have... a few times, even. I'm kinda inordinately proud of it... and him... Rhonda said the other day Kadin was praying for me and Jeriah said "Nae comin' Easter" about 7 times in a row... gives me warm fuzzies to know he's 1) finally talking and 2) knows my name. There will be other sundry family activities, and it will be good to be back home... See my old stomping ground and the Memphis church family.
There is a song on the radio that goes somethin' like this:
I’m coming home, I’m coming homeThen P Diddy (or whatever ridiculous moniker he's going by now) raps... but I'm always finding myself wishing that the whole song was like the chorus... Not that I think Memphis is anything like my kingdom... maybe my old room might be my kingdom... but that's a pretty small domain... then again, it's not like I want to be in charge of a large kingdom... so I guess it's all going to be alright... and maybe it will rain when I'm at my parents and I can hear the rain on their metal roof... Possibly the most soothing sound in the world.... and maybe the loneliest, too... Maybe I shouldn't hope for rain.
Tell the world I’m coming home
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes
I’m coming home, I’m coming home
Tell the world that I’m coming
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