how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

absolutely nothing to say except.......

Bunny just wanted to say she is going to the doctor's this afternoon, and she is oozing worry. *sigh* she also wouldn't mind it if life were different.

here are here demands. 1. she still lived in Rockport, and 2. her lovely, lovely Dragon were by her side.

she is willing to spend the rest of her fuzzy little life sewing and painting and writing and making stained glass and taking photographs just to get this all back. but Bunny thinks all God is going to do is give her a gentle little hug. *sigh*
that's all she wanted to say. she is going to go cry now. will let you know how it goes.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

looking for someone to spend a lifetime with. i do not require you to be honest or good or faithful. i merely require you to be present in the moment, to be here with me. i do not care what you look like or what your faith, ideals, or morals are. i just want you to pay attention to me. i am beautiful and i am ugly. i can be perfect for you and then callously turn on you in the turn of a phrase or the gasp of the last breath of someone you love. my name is Life and you are the lucky soul born into one, your own, the one that you will cling to and sometimes, often regretfully, wish away.

i have things that recommend me. my landscapes and seascapes are beautiful. the smell of a coming thunderstorm, the taste of snowflakes on your tongue, the warmth of a sudden winter sun breaking through clouds, and the coolness of diving into the pool, or the ocean on a hot summer day. the excitement of finding the perfect "frippery" during a shopping trip or the awe in seeing the perfect sand dollar on a long and lonely stretch of sandy beach. i can give you the sight of a full moon rising and the majesty of a sunrise, all while standing with your soul mate.

my lovers perform for me. art ~ drawings, photography, stained glass, wood cuts, embroidery, paintings, sculpture, music, lyrics, dance, writing; all to honor me, and love ~ Life, my friend. Life.

i offer much that makes you curse me. i can give you the slow decline and eventual death from disease or i can make it quick and painful and harsh ~ car crash, sudden heart attack. i can also sit back and watch you do it to yourselves and never blink an eye much less interfere ~ war, murder, all based on greed and avarice.

hop on the swing Life and rise high towards the clouds. swing back and stare at the earth below your feet and ponder the thought of falling and hitting the dirt, hard. but then work for it, pump your legs and swing high again, always reaching for the sky, always searching for a glimpse of Heaven. because, if you don't work for it, your swing will never take you as high as you might be allowed to go.

you will have it all with me. ride the magnificent ride of true love where all your senses feel sharper, more alive than they ever will during your lifetime. feel the immense joy of having a child and know the happiness of teaching, of passing down a tradition, a legacy. see the world through their eyes and welcome all the smiles you can. hold those smiles close, hang on the all the collected moments of joy that you can and cherish them because i promise you, i will most certainly give you a taste of Hell on earth. i will take them from you and you will suffer. i will give you poverty and humiliation and insignificance. i want you to truly know immense joy and intense pain. you need to embrace the grief for as long as it will last for you because what i took from you deserves to be mourned. you had it all and i took it all away and i did it without a care or concern for what it did to you. by the time i am through with you, hopefully you will have become wise, caring, empathic, and earned the peace you have journeyed so long, or, depending upon your lifeline, so short, to find. you will deserve the peace you have fought for.
i am Life and the experience is not to be missed. i am waiting to hear from you.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

life now & some people leave, some people stay

life now.....

there are a lot of times when i wonder what i’m doing here. it sometimes seems ridiculous to be alive when he is gone. i have raised my children. i was here for him. i eased his soul. i hope that doesn’t sound arrogant, because the last thing i am is arrogant. in fact, i am so not arrogant that i almost don’t exist with regards to self-worth. it is something i am told i need to work on and yet; is it possible that low self-esteem may be my gift to the world? it is something i have had {suffered from?} all my life. very little in my life has been a catalyst for me to change my opinion of myself.

i am proud of Bunny though, and what she brings to the world.

i wish he were here to talk to, to listen to his voice. he was gentle with me, and kind, so very kind. i have always known, since i was very small, that gentleness and kindness are mutually exclusive. a gentle voice can express threats and dispense crushing verbal abuse, while kindness is seldom misunderstood. i wish my Carl were here to talk to me. i always told him that even though the world could not know what he did for it, to help the cause of freedom for us and others, the world still felt the ripples of his patriotism. me? i have always lived in the shadows. i cling to the walls. i have done a few good things but nothing like him. nothing that warrants me still living while he has died, unless, it is because he deserves his rest. he deserves his own personal freedom from the pains his body felt while i am being punished further for my sins by being forced to live without him. i try to think of it that way. i know, but surprisingly, for me, it helps ease the sorrow a little bit.

i think i can anticipate some thoughts from those who know me a bit. i know you are going to mention the “heart ceremonies” i do at work, plus my idea for the Ambassador, all her thoughtful and soulful work of coming to personally meet each of you who wanted her. there are a couple of things right there that should be important, and they are, within reason. but how many falling stars, that you’ve seen, can you remember? there was the initial “ooo ahhh” but then the star fell beyond the horizon and was gone. out of sight, out of mind. you can sit there and read this and say, “but i’ve seen falling stars.” yes, maybe you have, but they were just that brief flash of light and then nothing. that’s me. people will remember Beach Bunny and the Ambassador. people will not remember me by name. and that’s all right with me because really, in all honesty, i am the Bun.

i can’t find my place in this world. i can’t find my place in my own life. i am cryingly, humbly grateful for my car, my apartment, my job, my children, and my Scotties. but almost irreverently with regards to all those things, all my fantasies are about being a recluse in a tower at the water’s edge. i have a sketchpad with photos and well, sketches of what it looks like, what i would have done if i had had millions and millions of dollars. i have to laugh, because yes, what i have conceived would take all that. maybe someday i’ll create a mixbook of it and share it with you. there is still more to do to it before i would unveil it so don't hang from a rope.

i am still waiting to get in to see a doctor. my daughter’s mother-in-law is supposed to be directing me to the better doctor from the list that is under my health plan at work. when i am allowed to sign up for health care through work i had wanted to already be under the care of one that is covered by the plan. i didn’t want to have to change doctors due to the health plan coverage, or lack thereof.

i hate this high blood pressure and diabetes. until i can get in to see a doctor and get the real lowdown on me in particular, i am scared. are my feet going to fall off? will i go blind? and then there are the things i love to eat that are now taboo. extra cheddar goldfish crackers. oatmeal cookies. Cheerios. they all seem to have too much salt. some too much sugar, too. i’ll have to wait until i can see the doctor to see if i am being overly careful. i have no idea but i would rather err on the side of caution. i do not want anyone pointing their finger at me and saying, “she gave up.” it would be a disgrace to my Carl’s name and all he went through during his life. it would also be a disgrace to my name after all i went through during my life, from my childhood through my first marriage, and after my Carl died. all the worries, the stresses, the condemnations, the beatings, the verbal abuse i've endure; i will not let myself or my Dragon down by quitting now. i will keep getting up and doing what i have to do. you may now call me Sisyphus.

but i do wish that woman would hurry. ten days getting back to me so far. please, just ask some nurses. they always know the doctors best. i know she is busy. i know she has a life but she offered. if it was going to be too hard for her to pick up a phone then i wish she hadn’t offered. i would like the advice but i cannot wait around indefinitely. i’m scared about all this and i am in a city that cannot/will never be home. i am scared and flying solo and blind without a net. this is my health we’re talking about here. i need to try.

so far very little appeals to me food wise. i am losing weight, which is fine. i need to. but i miss food. i miss the comfort of my chicken and dumplings, which i know has too much salt. i have to try and reconfigure that recipe. Boo has sent me a book that came on Saturday after the office here at the apartments closed. i will take the receipt for it from the mailbox and pick it up Monday before work. i am excited to read it. it is the DASH diet and is supposed to be ~ let’s go ahead and be dramatic ~ sublime.

some people leave

i remember all those posts about being so alone and with this go-round of stress and worry it has all become clear to me. i do not miss anyone. i have made only one friend here, a very recent friend, whom i had lunch with the other day. she is on Bunny’s itinerary and you’ll see photos of her visit with the Ambassador when it comes time. but for over 2 years, people here have blown into my life and then blown out just as quickly and i use the word “blown” indicating stormy for a reason. they created havoc.

i have been told i am not worthy as a friend due to lack of money and car. i now have a car but i do not have much “extra” money so i did not plan on renewing my acquaintance with that widow.

another widow who has me do things for her, has swooped me in on but it is once in a blue moon. she asks after me, after a fashion. “how are you? i think about you all the time but anyway, i need you to make, {or buy Girl Scout cookies}, yada yada…et al ad nauseum.” so i do for her. i buy from her. and then i stand there and watch her walk away without a backward glance. that is the time i am allowed to answer her. “i’m okay, i guess. i miss my husband. things are hard financially. but i’m okay…….nevermind.” and that’s when i turn and walk back in my own direction without a backward glance. *sigh*

the grief counselor that wasn’t. the “tribe” that has disbanded, or went dormant. after a powerful weekend, at least for me, no one kept in touch save one. in their defense, they were all hurting terribly. but i am hurting, too, and i think about them, messaged them, emailed them to no avail. i guess they are all too involved with their own lives, their own sorrow, and/or their own agendas. but when we meet another who hurts, supposedly connect with them on some level, why can't it be like the parable of the lost sheep? the 99 are safely in the pen and the shepherd goes in search of the lost sheep. i have always responded or been there for a widow or widower who has written privately to me, and i am busy. i have things to do. but i always answer with the most heartfelt writing i can bring. these people are reaching out from the abyss. how can i do less than sit back and ask myself, “what would you want to hear?” i send hope and understanding and the acknowledgement and awareness that there are few answers other than we are all on this journey together. our own personal and very intimate sorrow, but grief is a path that has many pilgrims on it, not travelers, but pilgrims for this is a journey of the soul.

to the widow who told me i was only her back up, the last person she calls simply because she knows i “will always be there and always say ‘yes.’ “ i now say, “no.”

to the widow who cursed me as “clumsy and an embarrassment” to her because i tripped while walking with her, i say, “thank you for never calling again.”

and to the widow who promised me she would be there for me, but who turned on me when i could not get some embroidered work done for her in her time frame, and who cruelly told me i needed anti-depressants, i say, “i am changing a few things in my life. if you contact me and i do not return said contact, you are one of those changes.”

i do not miss these people.

i do, however, miss is him. i am lonely only for him. i want him back. i feel like a spoiled child and yet, all i want is for him to come home. but alas, the adult that i am, the woman who saw him die; knows he is not coming back. i’ll never see his smile, hear his voice, feel his touch, smell his skin, or taste his lips. i am forever without him, or until i die and then……i guess i’ll see if i am worthy.

i want to go home, wherever home is now. i want the ocean so badly that sometimes my skin crawls when i look outside my windows. there is no life out there. there is such a controlled and anemic patch of nature out there i feel like i am in a failed biosphere. how can this city breathe without more nature? and this is called the city of trees. there are a lot, but they are culled and pruned and controlled. they are not as nature intended. they are as man forces them to grow in their little assigned areas, lined up like sentries in places. but always, always under man's strict control.

nothing feels free here. nothing feels slow or laid-back. it is all hurry and money and success and then the other side of that coin. illiteracy, narrow-mindedness, and callous little abuses handed down to the children, the worker bees, and the insignificant.

i want to go home. i want to go home. but home isn't there anymore because he has died and left me behind. i just wonder though, if i could wake up to the smell of salt air, and work to the sight of the gulls dancing in the air, and try to sleep to the sound of wind and waves, if i would feel better? if i would heal just a little bit?
some people stay.....

he would have stayed with me if he could have. i know that. i have my moments of doubt and fears, but the truth? he would have stayed with me. he loved me as much as i love him.
i have met some people who have stayed. Suzann called last night. always such a blessing. i was upset and she called to tell me she had found some Buddy Poppies to mail to me. i want them like some women want diamonds. kinda sad. kinda funny. but true. the Bun want's her Buddy Poppies.

Suzann has stayed. she has no idea what i look like. she sees me as Bunny. i guess i should send her a photo but then i do not want to disappoint her. Bunny is lovely. i am not. i know it will not matter to her, but it is that poor self-esteem thing rearing its ugly head. sorry, Suzann. one day.

Boo has stayed. she is my Diabetes Buddy. when i get my glucose meter, we're going to be there for each other to help each other stay on track.

Judith has stayed around. a woman from Canada named Marjorie and her husband, even her son has gotten into the Bunny fan club. they have stayed. they love the Bun, and me, and we speak online often. Dan is there for me if i need to talk. so is Deb. and the irony of all ironies, i have a grief counselor who lives about 9,500 miles from me. she is the one i need and yet, *sigh* she and i obviously cannot do the face-to-face kind of counseling i would like, but beggars cannot be choosers. she is a Godsend and i accept.

there are people out there, just not close. i am grateful.

i just wish he were here. i wish i could live beside the ocean with my art providing a decent living. i wish i may i wish i might have the wish i wish tonight..... i was recently told by a nameless someone that if i cannot support myself solely on my art, then i am not a real artist.


Dragon said i was an artist. if he said it, then it is gospel. i am an artist. i just also do other things.

Dragon, my love, you'll never know how much i miss you. or maybe you do. and i worry that you miss me, too. i want you to wait for me, but i want you to have a peaceful, fun time where you are. i want all the wonderful things that Heaven has for you be given to you. i just want you to be sort of hanging there waiting for me, too.

i love you more than time.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

the Bunny Legacy

you know her. you might love her. some do. some think she's a little off the wall, but that is the nature of my grief. she is the very expression of my grief. she is part of my art. she is how i cope with losing the only person who knew everything about me and never flinched. she is how i stay sane.

you've seen her completely fall apart.
you've seen her endure those awful anniversaries and birthdays and holiday
with a pensive bowing of her head.
you know the deep, forever love she has for her Dragon.
you know she works hard at giving people a good time at work.
what you don't know about her would fill a book. she is my legacy, i think.
she is all i can leave to the world.

Traveling Bunny ~ Ambassador of Grief and Whimsy.
traveling the world to touch hearts and souls with her singularly winsome ways.

Beach Bunny ~ my alter ego, me, the public face of the woman who clings to the shadows
like a convicted felon.

Bunny in all her guises and poses.
Bunny, who says what i cannot say.
Bunny, whose face is all most people know of me.
Bunny, the brave one, the courageous one who faces the world armed only
with her soft, fuzzy face and her understanding eyes.

she has taken on a life of her own. she was the first thing i bought, beyond food, after my Carl died. she was naked then. i could not dress her because my grief was so raw and naked.
how do you clothe such pain?
black does not celebrate the man he is. color was all wrong for the drowning Bunny i was.
still am.
but i am still breathing so i must be existing.
and existing is exhausting so maybe i should try something to get me through the day.
voila! Bunny bought a sweater.
Bunny bought a t-shirt and jeans and decided to decorate them. just to see.
then Bunny bought angel wings and a white dress for Christmas.

and then Bunny bought a bunny. and another.
all their faces called to me.
all their eyes cried out to belong.
i need a family to live with me. my children are grown. i am alone so much of the time.
it has become crazy. it has become, there are no words, and yet,
there they are.
Bunny's little warren.
Bunny has plans for them all.
Bunny is set to buy two more to gift to two friends.
little clothes are being made.
little ideas are forming in Beach Bunny's head.
the art of my grief.

did i mention that this keeps me sane?
because i want him. i want him so much.
but all i can do is play out this life and do so with honor and integrity.
all i can do is try to find some way to leave something behind.
it looks like it's going to be a stuffed Bunny who has a soul.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Bunny in a bad, bad place

very tough night for me tonight. so many thoughts vying for front and center. thinking about my life with my mother. thinking about my life with my first husband. with my Carl, and now that he's gone, with my two children. so hard to sit and type it when words just want to spill from my mouth. but this is all i am allowed. i read of so many who get grief counseling and i wish the person i am writing to who has offered to hear me but who lives 10's of thousands of miles away; i wish we could do this face-to-face.

i emailed the grief counselor who i do not think was vested in my well-being. i am still working on her quilt. it was part of the deal even though i no longer see her. she was just not really there for me. she kept changing appointments or i'd show up and she would have forgotten me. i apologized for the slowness of the quilt, but with work and not feeling well with this high blood pressure thing and diabetes, ...... anyway, she did not answer me. i think she is angry. i can't be a part of that. so many people lined up to be pissed at me for something. get in line. and i say that without really having any kind of a list other than first husband, his entire family, my brother who has disowned me......i am hurting so badly tonight. those "old sorrows that rise up to beset me. old doubts make my spirit their own."

i am lonely for him and yet i am in such darkness tonight that i wonder if his dying wasn't just a way to get away from me. my children are so busy with their lives. i get small parcels of their time, and you know, they ARE grown up and they ARE busy, but i gave up my whole life to move into the hospital when my mother was dying. i sat there for 6 months and took care of her until she died and she despised me. so i'm not dying. not that i know of yet. i just want my son to come visit. i want my daughter to make a little time for me in the physical sense of coming over rather than relying on the phone calls now. but she IS so busy and has moved 30 minutes in the complete other direction. i feel alone up here. i am anxious a lot of the time. i feel like i am in an airport terminal waiting on them to call my flight. "Bunny, board at Gate 2. Dragon is waiting." but Murphy's Law will dictate that that voice will say, "Bunny, why are you waiting. get to work. no one wants to spend time with you. you are only a commodity. not a real person."

but i am supposed to be doing better, right? at least better than i am. i am supposed to be working on my self-esteem and empowering myself. but it's hard to do that when someone tosses those platitudes off over their shoulder as they walk away, or hang up on you. i wish i could move to an island and never have to see anyone again. if i am on an island, no one CAN come to see me. it would be a great inconvenience. i am "patted" on the back via emails and phone calls from people i do all this stuff for and yet, no one really knows how much i hurt. no one. i cannot really tell anyone everything. there is so much. there would be that yawn and that lack of interest. or they would be appalled and not want to hear anymore, or not believe me. so many times doctors did not believe me. or lawyers. "go fix your marriage." "he makes this amount of money and you want to divorce him? can't you just take it?" it was my turn to be appalled.

i did try to talk to someone back in August in San Diego. she was horrified. she did not want to hear me at all. she wanted it all to be free and fun, to cut loose and get away from sorrow and trouble. i cannot risk being shut down like that again. i cannot risk opening my mouth and seeing that look on a person's face. widow or not, no one truly gets all of it, off of the individual. everyone has their secret darkness that haunts them. being with other widow's like that, it was the wrong time and place and people for trying to find someone to talk to like i need. 2 years, 3 months and i am still searching for someone to talk face-to-face to. there is something wrong about that. where is the empathy? where is the compassion?

i want to move away and become a hermit. if i become a hermit, there can be no expectation of company therefore no feelings of abandonment. me and Bunny on a small rock off the coast of somewhere. i am supposed to be thinking how wonderful i am and proud of the things i do for others but i don't. i have no good feelings for myself at all. i do for others what i'd like to have done for me. i do for others because it is the right thing to do. it doesn't make me special. i don't do anything for anyone that anyone else couldn't do. i write to other widows who rely on my honesty about grief via my hubpages that i write for. i have several people who write to me, lean on me. i have to give to them because it is what i have wanted, someone who answers their cries. someone who is not too busy. someone they can trust to be there for them. i cannot let them think that womanNshadows would be cavalier with their feelings and their pain. i have empathy for them all. i give them my words, my honest and soulful words but how can i see that as something of value when it is so obviously and simply the right thing to do? it is not about my self-worth. it is about being there in the dark with someone without thinking of yourself. no fanfare. no fireworks or speeches. it is not empowering to me. it is draining. see, i just need him back. i need Carl. i want to know if he left me because he was sick of me. like my kids who have so little time for me. i want to know if he still loves me. i want to know if i am still interesting to him. to someone. no, valuable. do i have value simply because i breathe. not for what i can write or make or do for someone. i need to know if he still loves me. would stay with me if he could.

i am so tired and hungry and not sure what i can and cannot eat. the diet needs of high blood pressure and diabetes is like a venn diagram. yes for this but oh, no for that. i need that small arc of space where there is overlap to become clear. what is in there that i can eat without fear of coma or stroke?

i want to leave this cold, uncaring concrete place and go back to the ocean. maybe like Henry Beston did in when he moved to the Cape and wrote the Outermost House. but i need money for that and i will never have that. i will never have all my things back from storage. i will never have a life, only an existence.

posting all this, this is a shot in the dark to see if anyone is really listening; see if anyone has this depth of pain, too. {{hugs}} or "thinking of you" is sweet but it comes from a place of not knowing what else to say. but in their defense, how can they know what to say to someone who is sobbing so hard they are silent. raw, overwhelming, powerful grief racks the body and cannot all come out. no sound can issue forth because it is too loud to be heard. how can anyone know what to say to someone whose darkness is so vile that they can never tell anyone everything.
i want him back. or at least to call me. tell me why you left me alone down here. tell me that it was the worst thing that could ever have happened to us. tell me that you miss me. tell me that you ...................... are still capable of loving me?

i want to eat with you. i want you to cook something for me that i can eat that won't kill me. please just come back and have dinner with me. and then just tuck me into bed and stay with me until i fall asleep. just one more night together. please. i promise i won't ask for another thing.

i wish for peace to all who read this whether the overwhelming sadness of it renders you speechless or not. i am glad i have sent the Traveling Ambassador out into the world. i want her to help others as my own dear Bunny helps me get through the days and nights. i love all the photos of Bunny, all the places she has gone. the snow in Canada, the crazy fun times in London, the peace of Wales. i love her Aussie thongs, as Boo called them. her Australia pin. i am going to cherish this journey of hers for all my days.

and the ocean. my Bunny got to go to the ocean. when she comes back to me i am going to smell her, to see if there are any leftover smells of the ocean. and i will close my eyes and fantasize. that's all i have left. fantasy and nightmares. i try to make the fantasies push the nightmares away.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Bunny wants to quit life

see Bunny's frightened little face? the Bun is weary and scared and worried and sorrowful. Bunny has been diagnosed with high blood pressure and, just this week, Wednesday for inquiring minds, she has been told she has diabetes. *sob* Bunny loves oatmeal cookies and icing and stuff she can no longer eat.see the tension in her fuzzy little shoulders? Bunny needs someone to talk to. she needs her Dragon, her lovely, lovely Carl.

Carl, i need you. i am tired of life. i am tired of the worry and fret. i am tired of never being able to shut my mind off for one single second. always on guard. always watchful. i need you. i want to go back to the ocean. i want to hear the waves on the rocks and sand for myself. i want to smell salt and feel the breeze. i want to hear gulls crying out. i want you. i want you. i want you so very much. i need your arms around me and your fingers combing my hair. i want your breath in my ear and to feel your heart beating under my hand. i want to close my eyes and sleep; really sleep. i want a break. i want you to come back and hold me. i want you to be with me.


Bunny has a new man. he is pink and green and orange and blue. he has peace signs all over him. he is stuffed with some soft stuff that molds to her neck and helps support her tired little neck and shoulders and head. she calls him Carl. big surprise.
Bunny has dreams that no one knows anything about. but here is a taste. Bunny wants to quit life. she wants to leave this concrete prison. Bunny wants to go to an island and live there. somehow she will have food and books and thread and fabric and all the things she will need to survive, BUT magically she will never have to leave her island.
if someone wanted to visit, they could get dropped off here. Bunny says, "be careful."
she even has her outfit picked out. the Bun is ready to become a recluse. she is ready to go off to an island that is all her own so she can paint and sew and write and sun herself to warm her aching joints and hear the gulls and feel the ocean on her little feet and talk to and dream of her Carl Dragon, .......
and easily see her moon.

If once you have slept on an island
You'll never quite be the same;
You may look as you looked the day before
And go by the same old name.

You may bustle about in street and shop,
You may sit at home and sew,
But you'll see blue water and wheeling gulls
Wherever your feet may go.

You may chat with the neighbors of this and that
And close to your fire keep
But you'll hear ship whistle and lighthouse bell
And tides beat through your sleep.

Oh, you won't know why, and you can't say how
Such a change upon you came,
But - once you've slept on an island
You'll never quite be the same.

Rachel Field

Monday, May 9, 2011

Bunny has a new puppy

i am so down. oh, Lord, i am down. depressed. sad at the thought of what my life has become; what it is without him. i am so very sad.

i know it will improve a little. probably a lot over time. you know, 11 years from now i may not be this sad. hey, i may not even be here, but if i am, i probably, might not be this sad.

so i had to do something whimsical. my Ambassador is out there in the world for all of you. my Bunny needed to do something silly for me, so yesterday, Mother's Day, we were at work together and she ran to the back. she got into my locker and dug in my purse for my debit card. she came running back out and dug through our little "kennel pals" and found the perfect one. Bunny bought her.

here she is.
here she is up close.
silly Bun. she bought herself a puppy. we have decided to name her Juliet. yes, from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

Juliet said in Act 3, Scene 2:
"and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of Heaven so fine and all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun."

Bunny and Juliet love looking at the night sky. they think it is easier to see Heaven, and certainly it is easier to see the moon.

pssst. he is coming back. the moon. isn't he beautiful up there? that is tonight's moon. the moon of the 9th of this month. 2 years, 3 months tonight. we were out there gazing at it with what i know was intense longing and sadness reflected in our eyes. i sighed as i held Bunny in my arms and she signed as she held Juliet in her little fuzzy arms.

i love you, Carl, my beautiful, handsome Dragon.

Friday, May 6, 2011

my Dragon has a name

i am autonomous now. i am my own country. i am the Widow Bunny living in the Land of Forever Grief. i am the Dragon's wife and it is time i stand for him. that person out there {Voldemort} can wound me but he can no longer reach out and hurt me. he no longer has control over me. i am on my own, finally, frighteningly, but out of reach of the harm that he can cause. so now, it is time. i feel it in my heart.

you've "met" my Dragon. you've seen the photos i've posted. you now know his smile.

you've read where we lived. beside the North Atlantic. so beautiful. so austere, even in our short summers. we truly lived, he and i. we were so terribly poor but we were wonderfully happy. we had all of the great outdoors as our playground. we had the ocean and all its gifts. we had our island. we had each other.

i've told you all about my Dragon, the kind of man he is. he still is that kind of man because only his body died. not his soul. he has transcended this life but he is still the man i love. i've told you of his sacrifices for his country as a Marine. i've told you of his sacrifices as a {step} father to my two children. such a wonderful man. his laughter, contagious. his smile, warm. his hands, strong and always there for me. his heart, faithful and courageous in the face of hardship. he is as permanent in my life as the granite boulders that surround where we lived and loved together.

and i have told you how he died. i have told you that it was sudden and shattering. i told you of the terrible cold of that winter night. 4 below zero. we already had 3 feet of snow on the ground on that frigid 8th of February at 11:45 when he was rushed to the ER due to a heart attack. 12:03 AM ~ 9 February 2009 ~ he had to go where i cannot as of yet.
he flew to the other side of our moon. the Dragon and the moon. now Bunny and her moon. so lonely standing out in the dark looking up at the sky. or during the daylight hours on a waxing moon as Bunny searches the sky for Dragon.
Dragon has a name. Carl.