Shatterday

  August 20, 1985  was the day my dad died.  He was 60 years old, and died of lung cancer. It was a drawn out and debilitating death and  he was magnificent through it all. When he died, he was cremated and had his ashes scattered at Shelter Cove, in Northern California, one of his favorite places on this planet. I have this little fantasy in my head when I think of him being gone all these years, that like DB Cooper, he jumped out of that plane and landed on the beach and is sitting there in a chaise lounge,  drink in hand, watching the surf roll in and out.

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   It's funny, even after all these years--26 now-- that I don't always consciously remember this date, but my body and my psyche does. It's  cell memory, and  for a couple of days now I have been very emotional and exhausted and  wondering why I started crying today watching Extreme Home Makeover.  It wasn't until about an hour ago, reading my Facebook page where a friend was saying it was the anniversary of his mom's death, and then reading that they have named my newest great-nephew (who was born yesterday) after my father, that it hit me that today is the day he died.

  My stepmom had called and asked me if there was a chance I could get down to see him anytime soon, and I was too busy and couldn't get away just then. My visits with him were getting more and more difficult (for me) as I was watching him deteriorate and having to face the cold hard facts that I was about to lose him. He and I had pretty much said everything that needed saying and he had made a couple of requests of me and it seemed like all I could ever do was cry when I was with him. It is so hard to watch someone you love die. I was so scared and so angry and nothing in my world made sense.  I got a call at 5 o'clock in the morning, telling me he had died in his sleep and that she would keep him at home until I got there to tell him goodbye. I lived 4 hours away at the time.  In a daze, I packed a bag and left. My husband didn't go with me, and so I had to make the drive by myself. I probably never forgave him for that... I don't even know how I got there.

  The loss of a parent is something we all have to deal with sooner or later, and for me it was sooner all the way around. My mother had died 5 years earlier, and it didn't have near the immediate impact that this did. In time, as I have learned, a person gets to experience all the things you missed or refused to deal with when it comes to this emotional stuff.  Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly...

  Now I am old.  I am amazed still at the nature of grief...the power of that soul chewing sense of loss.  There has been a lot of loss in my life, and that's what happens when you live long enough, I guess. I am sure that it has affected my personality and hope that it has made me a more compassionate and mindful person. 

  And now, this tiny little man has come into the world to carry on my father's name.  He is beautiful and healthy and weighed in at 8lbs 4oz.

  I once suggested naming my son after my dad, and he offered to beat me with a skillet if I EVER did that.  lol He went by a nickname all his life and most people never knew him by anything else. His name was Oscar. No middle name. I don't know who he was named after, if somewhere in the family tree there was another Oscar that can be blamed for my fathers misfortune, or if it just pleased my granny. All I know is that everyone who knew him called him Brownie.  My brother just told his son that--that there was a reason everyone called him Brownie.  And I know he would have hated it, but would have been so proud at the same time.

  So, here I sit, amazed at the circle of life, even though I sometimes feel beat up by it as well.  Missing my dad, excited about seeing the newest member of our family, and relieved that my emotional rollercoaster isn't just a glitch in my aging brain.  There's a reason I'm feeling sad and even if my addled brain didn't remember, the rest of me did, and so it is. I want to lay my head on my desk and cry...cry for all the things he missed by dying so young. Cry because he never got to see any of his great grandchildren.  Cry because he never got to see his own children grow into relatively happy and healthy adults. He never got to see me get sober and he never got to meet my Irishman and he'll never get to see my gardens or my little home in the country.

 He would have loved it all. He really, really would have.

Namaste.

The fragile nature of life...

My phone's message alert went off as soon as I turned it back on this afternoon. I had been in a meeting, and when I came out there it was. I answered it and a very serious voice asked me to please call her as soon as I got this-it was important.  I called, and was told that a friend of mine had died that morning. A relatively healthy 40 something alcoholic who could not stop drinking and stay stopped to save her life.

 She had lived here for a little over 6 months, out in the studio apartment, while she tried one more time to get sober.  She did alright for a while, and then, as usual, she as back on another bender. After a couple of these, I asked her to please move out, as I could not have that here. Our agreement was that she could live there as long as she stayed sober.

  She managed to quit drinking a couple of more times since then, only to have some catastrophe or crisis send her back into the bottle again.  She lost her last in a string of temporary jobs. Her son wanted nothing to do with her.  Her boyfriend that she had a love/hate relationship with, told her to get out of his life...he couldn't take it any more.

I am deeply saddened by her demise. She was a wonderful human being when she was sober. I knew a side of her that was all soft and loving and breakable. The outer persona was brittle and brutal and sometimes  mean. Always keeping her guard up. Always such a child in there. 

Unfortunately for people like her, and like me, and like so many I know....this is what we get.  If we drink, we die.  We absolutely cannot drink for any reason , of any amount, in any way. Complete abstinence is our only hope. We crush the people who love us, we do things we would not normally do, we hate ourselves with such a ferocity it is unimaginable.

If we are lucky, we find ourselves in a life and death situation where recovery is the only option.  I am so grateful that I had the shit kicked out of me by life one last time, right after I got arrested for druink driving.  I am so grateful that there was no where else for me to go. I suspect that if there had been one more shot, I would have not made it here. Like my friend, I would have kept hitting myself in the head with that bottle until finally my head split wide open (metaphorically speaking) and all the life drained out of me.

  I have known so many people these past 20 years that have died. Because they could not live with alcohol or without it.  Because they could never be convinced they were worth saving.  Because they had to chase that high, that buzz, one more time. Because this might be "the" time they got the relief they were looking for.  And they are dying of things that don't look like death by drugs or alcohol...but they are. Things like seizures and respiratory arrest and cerebral hemmorhages. Things like massive heart attacks. Things like intestinal bleeding.  People who are worn out and used up and oh so tired of the tragic comedy they have been living for far too long. People who have only 2 choices left to them. Live. Or Die.

I am feeling so bereft tonight. I know that there is nothing I could have done differently. I know that none of this has anything to do with me, really. But I also know that in my heart I will continue to wonder if there wasn't something I could have said  or something I could have given her that could have prevented this.  It is all so tragic. Her 17 year old son will continue the rest of his life without his mother. Her parents and step parents have lost their daughter. And I have lost a friend...

 At last, she has peace.

 RIP, M.R.

May 17, 2011

Namaste.

Mondays Meanderings...

   Wandered around outside a bit this morning...looks like we survived the rains/wind okay, with the exception of a few purple irises that decided to lay down in the dirt. I have a ton, so I just cut the long stemmed flowers off and took a bouquet to Miss B, and put some on my own dining room table.

  Am pleased to report that there is major germination going on out there, and the plants that are in are looking great.  Supposed to have some warm weather coming up, after tonights possible low of 36. Keeping my fingers crossed it doesn't get quite that cold. I am soooo done with this chilly damp weather.


  Read Miz Moon's blog about Pearl, and I started crying over losing my Lucy all over again. It feels like this grief will never subside, though I know it will.  I have so many pawprints on my heart...Lucy, Sophie, Bella, Seamus...Little Caylee came over and put her paws on my chest to lick the tears off my face. She is such a sensitive dog, and has not left my side since I started to cry. She's laying here at my feet, with one paw on my leg. Anchoring me. Loving me. This is why there have always been and will always be animals in my life.  Unconditional love.

  The mechanic called and said that the truck is done and we could come pick it up. I will go first thing in the morning. He had said earlier that he might not get finished with it until Wednesday, but ...maybe it wasn't any big thing...(hope, hope!)


  I spent a leisurely morning housekeeping...doing some laundry, vacuuming up tons of dog and cat hair (gotta love this time of year when the shedding begins...)...homey stuff.  I miss the time when I never had to leave the house for days and days at a time if I didn't want to...As much as I like the extra money, I have a feeling something is about to change. We shall see....we shall see.


  I am having a problem with someone and it feels like 13 year old girl BS...I was always a tomboy. I played with the boys and rarely hung out with girls when I was a kid, becaue I couldn't handle all the games. I refused to get involved with the cliques, the gossipy crap, the competition. And I am feeling like that is what I am dealing with here. I'm not going into detail about it ...but if it doesn't resolve itself, I might be travelling down a different road soon. And I am being a bit bitchy about it, which makes me feel like as much of the problem as anyone..I have drawn a line in the dirt, and crossed my arms and am being as stubborn as I have been about anything for a long time. AArrrgggghhhh....


  In the meantime, the moon tonight was so fabulous, hanging there in the dusky sky that it almost made me cry.  I love a good full moon, and it's a remarkable sight to see out here on the Prairie, with no city lights to mess it up.


  Okay, I have to go to bed.  I am cranky and tired and weepy.

  Snuffling off to Buffalo....



Namaste.

Rainy Days and Mondays...

 I just loved this picture, that's all. Kinda says it all.


  It is raining cats and dogs out there. The morning's humidity was so high that I had a constant glitter of sweat on my face constantly. It wasn't nearly as attractive as you'd think. It was late afternoon when it finally started to rain..a soft rain, as the Irish describe it. A constant drizzle. By early evening it was torrential. Lightning and thunder and the whole nine yards. Coming home tonight around 8, the country road I live on was a  flooded mess. I had to go out back and check on my chickens, then down to the road to pull the garbage can back up to the house and when I came back in, my pantlegs were soaked up to my knee. There is a good 4 inches of water standing in the driveway...All the fields on our road are looking more like lakes than fields. It's a mess, and it isn't supposed to let up any time soon.


  It's warm in the house, but I'm afraid if I open windows it will get too cold overnight.


  I'm going to lunch with a friend tomorrow...am thinking I may call her up to come here instead if she will.  She might.  lol  I really don't feel like eating out, if you can believe that.  And it isn't even the eating part...my time at home is so precious to me I don't want to waste it.  Starting this week, I am cutting work hours down from 6-7 to only 5 days a week.  2 days off...in a row.  I cannot wait. 


  My little dog is lying here, dreaming of chasing rabbits and whimpering and kicking.  I saw her again today, sitting at the edge of the yard, looking and looking for Lucy, her best friend, to show up. She looks so sad....it chokes me up and makes me cry. The first day she was gone, the little dog went from room to room looking for her everywhere. I guess I am such a sap....but it breaks my heart. And I KNOW I should not be hating and blaming my neighbors for this....but I do.  I know that once the hurt has subsided, I will feel differently...at least a little. In the meantime it is all I can do not to go over there and scream at them. And so I mutter and pace and shoot dirty looks across the pond at them...and wait for the grief to subside.


   This has been a long day and I am tired. Guess I'll go climb in that big sleigh bed and snuggle up next to the Irishman and listen to his soft breathing for a bit before I fall off to sleep.  I have been listening to that breathing for a lot of years... and it anchors me and cradles me and reminds me that there is big love in this world. I just finished reading a glorious post by Ms.Moon that warmed the old cockles of my heart.  Got me to thinking about love and how it really is all around us...blessed by love. In all it's different guises.


  Night all....




Namaste.

Simply Sunday

Not a lot to write about tonight, just haven't been here. Dealing with the grief of losing my dear friend and sponsor and trying like the dickens to make my way there for the services. God has other plans for me, I guess.

Am taking the no-show to the detox tomorrow...hopefully. She sounds terrible, and I agreed to meet her tomorrow. SO we'll go there if she showes. If she doesn't, this will be it., and she will be on her own. It's an ordeal for me to go through all the gyrations of making myself available for this, as the place is over an hour from my house. But, we do what we can. Once. Or in this case, twice. :) But certainly not three times...surely....lol

I am emotionally exhausted and heading for bed. I have missed you all, and did do a little reading today. My internet provider keeps kicking off and on...I have made the arrangements for the rural ISP Speednet to come out here and survey the place and see if they can hook me up. Keep your fingers crossed for me. We will divest ourselves of this stupid phone comapny and their internet and phones that rarely work, as well as the satellite tv. Bye-Bye...television.

Alright....loving thoughts and blessings galore. Namaste.