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, February 28, 2012

mad, epic fail

a woman i never met but only knew of through someone else died this morning. she was in her late 70's. i saw what people, in the triple digits, had written on her CaringBridge page, all the plans for her funeral being presented. the family is renting a big hall to accommodate the expected crowds.

she was married to the same man for 55 years and they had started a theater group together. it has become a significant part of her area. lots of singing, barbershop quartet concerts, etc., perform there. her husband is already, i saw written, taking this terribly hard. he does not know what he will do without her.

her three children, all of her grandchildren dropped everything to be by her side as the cancer finally raged out of control a couple of weeks ago. there was round the clock sitting with her so that she was never alone. her hand was held. people came to tell her how she had impacted their lives with her singing, her theater, her outgoing ways. she was special and now that she had died, the world has lost someone so great that hundreds are already arriving to honor this woman.

it is impacting my son because he also knew this woman through his father's family. a family i used to belong to. i have sent my own private condolences.

surprise. i have been having a hard time with myself of late. well, i'm lying. i've been having a hard time with myself for the last 3 years. i lost my voice. well, that's a lie, too. i lost his voice, my Dragon's voice. i never found my voice; not in all these years. the only voice i had was the one that rose to protect my children. beyond

okay, that's a lie. i write. quite frankly i've written a great deal more than this tiny blogging community who finds me here knows about. i write under another name. another place. it gets positive attention. mostly. if anyone stops to read. i've also written 4 books that i have not gotten published. the handful of people who have read them are aghast. "my God, but these are incredible! you have to get these published!" that and $5 can get you a coffee at Starbucks.

what am i? what have i offered the world? is my life a mad, epic fail? who will come to my funeral? does the church still hold funerals if only 3 people come to mourn the deceased?

i am wallowing today. as you can see. please, don't find fault with me. it's a moment. only a moment in time. a lifetime. i'm struggling and sometimes struggling is ugly and dirty.

what have i accomplished? well, let's see.
i can make things. i can make beautiful, extraordinary things that no one else will take the time to, or knows how to.

a Dragon of a man once loved me. maybe he still does. i don't know about the things beyond the veil of death. i admit i am nervous to find out. what if he's moved on. what if he's found someone else, someone who's dead, and they've hit it off. hey, i'm wallowing here. it's my fear talking. no one said fear was always rational.

i have two great children, grown now and on their own. my son is doing very well. my daughter is, too. she is the one in my daily life and she puts up with me. i know she gets frustrated sometimes with my fumbling, but she is patient with me and fights hard for me. she is my pitbull and i love her.

i have two Scotties who love me. they follow me and lick my face when i cry. they annoy the hell out of me when they won't wait past 6 AM to go outside to pee. they stand over my face and lick me on the lips. can't ignore a dog licking your lips. can't try to roll over and sleep through that. nope. i've tried. and God bless'em, they always need to go. but then i work a lot of hours during the day and they wait for me. they wait and have never gone to the bathroom on the carpet. we've flown down the apartment stairs but they've never soiled the carpet.
i am well liked at work. both places. the sewing is always received with "oh, my God's," and "i am speechless," and a whole range of incredulity at my handwork. not bragging. just facts. i put my heart and soul into my sewing and it shows. at the Bear, i put my heart and soul into the guest service. i am remembered by our guests and i have return guests. i am the most requested Party Bear in our district; and pretty much overall as far as the country's stats go. got an indirect message from the CEO, you know, one of those she tells her secretary who passes to the secretary of the NorthEast Manager who passes it to the Regional Manager who passes it to the District Manager who passes to my manager. "Good job."

so what do i live for? where do i find enjoyment? i read of others who have found love again. i read of others who are buying new homes in places and starting over. i read of others who have started traveling more, to see the world for those stories they want to tell their husband or wife when they "met up again in the hereafter."

i am stuck here. i will never be able to ask for a day off work. i need the money. i will never have a home beyond this apartment, i don't think. not unless my son can help me, unless we can figure something out with a little condo/townhouse. right now, that is as lavish a dream as my Dragon coming back to me with $350 million dollars in the bank. dead dreams. all dead.

so what do i live for? what keeps me going? my children. my dogs. Bunny. i love to sew. i do like a good heart ceremony and a successful party at the Bear.

i like big storms. i like to watch them build. i like to take pictures and with the grace of two wonderful friends out there, i have two wonderful cameras. S and D, if you're still reading my blog you know who you are. huge embrace and the dream of someday coming to visit you in your respective states.
i love Christmas Mass. i love plants. i love listening to music. i love kisses from my dogs.

i love to fantasize. i don't dream anymore, but i do fantasize. the difference? a dream might come true and i am not self-abusive. i do not ever kid myself. but a fantasy? ah, a fantasy can take you anywhere. it can give you a beautiful, small, old brick and stone home over a bit of water where the dogs can lay out over the windowsill in the sunshine.
a fantasy can give you a garden, a beach to walk on,

a chance to be with my beloved again ~ for just a night,

an escape from the reality that i live every time i bring myself back from those fantasies.

i never let myself believe for one minute that i will ever have .........ever have things again. i am too blessed with what i have been allowed to have right now. it is not negative to think that way. it is self-preservation. too many things have bent the wrong way for me to ever believe i live anywhere close to a "lucky star."

and when i die? will anyone "cut {me} out in little stars and make the face of Heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun?" no. i will only be missed two people, my son and my daughter. the only one who would truly grieve over me has already died, and i have touched no one's life to the point where they would drop everything to fly in to my funeral. i simply have not made that much of an impact.

well, maybe a few children who come into the Bear to hug me on a regular basis will miss me. there will be the fallen faces, the possible lack of understanding of death, and then they will see a new furry friend on the wall and i will be forgotten.

to what or whom
do i owe this pleasure
of a long and lonely night?
ah, death, 'tis death
that took away
all the love and light.

where is he, or is he out there
is he waiting for me?
again, it's death, only death
that can show my love to me.

is my life one long, lonely event where i have touched no one's life, impacted no one enough to have earned them caring about me? and how arrogant does this sound? it sounds so much like whining to want to be a little bit important to the world at large, or to a small bit of the local community where i am. see? struggling to come to grips with the life i have been handed is very ugly. embarrassing. but, if anything, i've never not been brutally honest in writing about how i feel. grief sucks. losing him was one of the most terrible things that has ever happened to me, along with the death of my son, etc.

so is my life a mad, epic fail? when compared with the woman i wrote about at the start of this missive, yes, it is. i am a failure. no one will come to stand in the church and mourn my passing. i have touched no one like that. but as is written in the Desiderata, "do not compare yourself with others. you may become vain or bitter." so i guess in the end, 30 yeas from now, even tomorrow, it doesn't matter how popular you were, how important you were, as long as you did something with what you were given. i've sewn for people. i've comforted people. i've been nice to people. i'm a fairly decent person. i am afraid of God. i have, and do, love one man deeply. i am here for my children and my dogs. in the face of some pretty tough emotional and financial odds, i have not given up. there are things i love like books and music and memories. and i can still fantasize. i don't torture myself with dreams that can never come true.

what else do i love? i love a really good starry, starry night. and yes, the night of a full moon.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

it's a mad world

so 3 years has come and gone. 3 years.

Valentine's Day has passed. it was hard.

i worked a long day and came home thinking about him, remembering that 3 years ago i was on the road to here,
from there.

my daughter was driving me away from home to here, which is supposed to be home,
and in certain ways it is,
but in the most elemental, most meaningful way,

it is not.

i realize i am searching for home. i search for it online with pictures of places i would like to live in, decorating that i would do. i find places i can only dream about.
i check out magazines that have pictures of houses and rooms i want to live in.

i see beds i'd like to sleep in.

i sometimes think, "i could do this better, do life better, if i had a bit more money. i could endure this without him if i had my own home."

i want to paint walls and spread out a little more than i can in this one bedroom apartment.

i want, i want, i want. i desire things. but they are all beyond my reach so i dream and cut photos and take pictures off the 'net to keep,
and look at,
and dream.

it's crazy out there in the real world. i have to be alert and focused and happy, happy, upbeat at work. but when i get home, i let myself collapse. i am tired. there are some very odd people out there. there are some different parenting styles that make me weep for the world.

today ~
a child wanted to stuff his bear right at that minute. there were two girls in front of him. i told him he was next. he said he wanted the two girls to die right then. he was 5. this is the second time this has happened this month.

today ~
a parent could not control her daughter who screamed for everything. screamed at decibel levels that went through everyone's collective heads like a nail. everyone vanished and i was left to deal with them. they drove other guests from the store. the mother was harried. she pleaded with her child to stop "being so bad." the child screamed, and i quote, "you have a boyfriend. i'll tell daddy." this child ran and ran and ran through the store tearing it apart.
i admit. i could not take it anymore. so i stood in front of the child and blocked her. she ran into me. it hurt. it stopped her long enough for me to say, "stop running. you'll fall. and now that i have your attention, do not throw out things on the floor."
she cursed me out, ran off to the back of the store laughing.
i turned to the mother and said, "you need to leave our store. your daughter has driven all our guests from the store. the store is a shambles. if you do not leave i will have to call security."
the mother took her child by the arm and left the store. it took me and another girl 45 minutes to set to rights what this child tore up. she was 12.

today ~
a parent rewarded her son for finally getting out of diapers. she said he liked being taken care of and that it had been a struggle for her to get him to want to be independent. i was a little taken aback. the boy smirked, yes, i deliberately chose that word, he smirked and said, "why should i do it when she was gonna do it for me." the boy is turning 8 in May.

today ~
a grandfather scared one of the young women who works at the store to death by threatening her job for not getting the coupon he had given her to go through the register. i heard the threats and went straight over and told the girl she could go take a quick break. i took the coupon and checked it to see why it would not run. it had expired in 2010. i told the man and he said, "run it again." i said, "no, sir. it will not run if i ran it 10,000 times. it has expired and the software won't accept it."
"give me my discount."
"no, sir. i cannot."
"i will get you fired."
"no, sir. you cannot. what i will do for you is give you another coupon worth $5. it's not the $10 off you want, but what i will also do for you is NOT call mall security and tell them you used physical and verbal intimidation on a 20 year old girl. do you accept these terms?"
he did. the grandfather turned to his grandson and said, "that's how you have to treat these women. see? grandpa got you $5 off."

it was a tough day today with some very difficult people. it's no wonder that i don't come back here and dream of a place that's all my own, a place i can say reflects my soul.

i miss him. i wonder when i'll feel stronger, or less tired at the end of my work day. when i finally crawl into bed, i am utterly defeated and exhausted. but i do have my moments of bliss. a new bunny is coming out. looking forward to that. getting the surprise visit from Lucy. the flowers from SSSF. my son surprise calling me on the phone in the middle of the week. sitting down crying only to have my two dogs leap up into my lap and stare at me, paw at me, and lick my face.

i miss him and i wonder,
if he could see me,
from wherever he is,
what would he think of me now?

Thursday, February 16, 2012

art in Bunny's apartment

Bunny has been asked about her headboard and another painting that was glimpsed in one of her photos.

well, here they are. these are up in Bunny's apartment. just makes it more homey to her. little bohemian. but that's Bunny.

the shark is painted on a board that was a table in a little camper she had once in a lifetime that is now far, far away.

the headboard was my daughter's when she was a little girl. i painted it with dolphins and a storm coming across the ocean. there is a sperm whale in a life and death battle with a giant squid. this is based on a story that "gran'pa" told us. nothing about grief this time. just a little insight into Bunny's little bohemian life.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Green Frog

a length of green fuzzy fabric and some fuzzy fabric were laid out and stamped with a pattern. they were cut and sewn together. big plastic eyes were inserted and anchored down. two red hearts were machine embroidered on a yellow foot and lastly a red ribbon with gold hearts stamped on was tied around his neck. and voila, a silly green frog was made to sell for Valentine's Day 2009.

he was put in a box with other green frogs and shipped to the airport in Atlanta, Georgia where he was put on display in a store in the Southwest Airlines terminal for a quick and easy gift for a passing traveler.

he waited patiently. his big, friendly eyes wistfully tried to lock on to passersby. Valentine's Day was approaching. there was a narrow window of opportunity to attract a buyer and he was determined to find himself a home.

fate waved a hand over the world and circumstances were set in motion that put a young man in the terminal on Monday, February 9th. he was tall and very handsome, but he looked grim. Green Frog thought maybe he was worried about a girl. he said to himself, "hey, maybe a silly green frog would be just the thing to take to his girl." and he sat up straighter, smiled brighter, and let his eyes shine with his gentle inner light; the light that all stuffed animals carry inside when they hope and pray they find a good home with someone who will love them.

the young man sat down across from the store and stared at nothing. his thoughts were deeply dark and secret. his body was restless as he waited to board the plane. suddenly the young man's gaze lifted up and into the store. he spotted Green Frog. getting up he walked into the store to stand and stare at him. Green Frog shifted just a little to draw attention to himself. he repeated a little mantra to himself, "i have a purpose. there is a reason for my being created. Valentine's is coming and i am important. he will pick me."

and the young man did. with a grim face and sad eyes he lifted the green frog into his arms and carried him to the register, bought him, and stuck him in his carryon.

Green Frog didn't mind being stuffed into the bag. he was flexible. and he knew he wasn't meant for the young man. he was obviously meant for a girl. no young man could look that sad before Valentine's Day and not be worried over a girl. Green Frog was almost giddy as he knew, just knew, he was a gift of love. and what greater gift is there than love?

he felt the plane land. he felt the bag with him inside being put in a car and felt the motion of the car for a while. then suddenly the car stopped and the bag was hurriedly unzipped. he was yanked out and held by the young man who was now with a young woman. the two of them walked to a door. they knocked on the door and Green Frog smiled his biggest smile. he wasn't meant for the young woman standing next to him. he was meant for the girl who would answer the door.

the girl wasn't what Green Frog expected.

she was older. she was the mother of these two. and she was crying. her face was pale and strained with the heavy burden of some great sadness. when the young man handed Green Frog to the woman, she looked at him for a moment and then hugged him very tightly. she buried her face in his green fuzzy fur getting him wet with her tears.

he snuggled close into her embrace so that she would feel comfort. oh, the poor woman. something was making her so sad; and so close to Valentine's Day. well, Green Frog would make her smile again. he was sure of it.

the days leading up to Valentine's passed and each day he was left on the bed. but each night, the woman hugged him tightly and cried. Green Frog was feeling terrible. he wasn't making any headway with the sad woman. he couldn't understand how she could not smile at his adorable, smiling, fuzzy face. but each night while he was being held, he snuggled close to the woman. and if she slept at all, he slide his soft little arms around her so she might feel his presence and maybe feel better.

the day before Valentine's, Green Frog watched the woman and her children leave. he waited and waited for them to come back. when they did, he finally realized why his woman was so sad. she carried an urn and she carried a folded American flag. oh, gosh. oh, Lord. she was a widow. he, a perfectly pleasant Valentine Frog had been given to a weeping widow. he wasn't meant to be a reminder of love. he would be a reminder of love lost. oh, no. he wasn't trained for this. he didn't know what to do.

Valentine's Day arrived and Green Frog waited and watched. the little family was obviously going somewhere that morning. he watched them all get ready. his woman held the urn and the folded flag in what could only be called a lover's embrace. as they were about to leave, his woman asked her daughter to bring him. he was grabbed by the leg and put in the car.

the little family went to the funeral for his woman's husband. so sad. he sat in the car while they went into the church and left him in the car, but he knew what was going on. sadness. tears. lost love. and on Valentine's Day. such a bad thing to have happen on Valentine's Day. his woman will always remember that her husband had his funeral service on this day of days, this day of flowers and hearts, and love.

after the funeral Green Frog was put in a moving truck and his woman and her daughter drove for two days. there was such heaviness in these two women's hearts. he felt terrible. he was supposed to represent romance and love and frivolity, wasn't he? instead he was a gift of sorrow. he had hearts embroidered on his little foot. he was smiling all the time. he was supposed to be for romance and happiness. instead, inside him, his heart was breaking.

eventually they arrived. everything was unpacked. the daughter was setting her mother up in a tiny apartment. Green Frog understood that this was to be his woman's new life. alone. silent, so silent. and sad.

each night his woman held him and cried. at first she cried every single night. eventually she stopped crying every night but it took months and months. but every night, when his woman laid down in bed and pulled the quilts up over her, after her little dogs settled their furry bodies near their "mom," she would reach for him. his woman would reach for him and hold him in her arms. sometimes she would sigh heavily. sometimes she would say her prayers out loud. and sometimes, even now, she would, she will, put her face in his fur and cry for her lost love.

and Green Frog was always there waiting for her.

he had been created for one thing. Valentine's Day. but as it turned out, he was meant for something else. he had thought he was made for romance, but he had been made for forever love. he had thought he had been made for fun, but he now meant for a higher purpose. he had thought his purpose in life was frivolity. it was not. he was meant to offer comfort. he was something soft and safe to hold onto in the darkest and loneliest part of his woman's grief.
his dreams of being a special Valentine's frog had not come true. but then, neither had his woman's dreams come true. or maybe they had, but for far too short a time.

but one thing came true. he was important. he was needed and desired. he had a home where he was loved and held and cherished. this was the reason he had been created.

his name was Green Frog, but sometimes, every once in a while, his woman called him Carl. she held him tightly every single night. and he was there for her and would be for all the nights left to her.
and every single night he would whisper to her, "happy Valentine's Day." he does this because he knows Carl would want him to.

p.s. and no worries about Green Frog. his woman's daughter has already promised that Green Frog will come and live with her after his woman passes to be with her beloved.

Thursday, February 9, 2012


see that main photo up there? that's Beach Bunny with her Home Buns. {omgosh i can't believe i typed that. it's the antibiotic talking. and the hot tea. and the mist from the humidifier. and the, oh give it up. i'm just a silly woman who loves her Bunny and the comfort that she brings.}

Bunny came back from work to find flowers from SSSF, his new fiancee, and his daughter. thank you. she was dragging her weary white tail up the stairs to her door in the fading light and there they sat.

bright. cheerful. but more importantly, they were whispering that someone remembered and understands.
Bunny got lots of very nice comments on her Facebook posting about what yesterday and today means to her.

she's moody tonight. teary.

yep, very teary, but not breaking down into sobs.

see that photo below? he was laughing at Bunny. and he was signing. "i love you." he could tell i was zooming in on him. he was just back from being "out-of-town." his stomach was all bandaged up from being shot. such a Marine. he called it being "nicked." "hi, honey. i'm on my way home. got the job done. oh, got nicked. nothing major."
he was so happy to be home. he was so funny when he was mending. "it's not as bad as it looks. i've had worse done. well, you remember last fall." {yeah, Baby, i do. and i love you so much. now just rest and i'm going out to take these shots for the magazine. they've already paid me for them. i need them off by Sunday.} "wait up. i'm coming with you."

so i told him to just stand up on the rocks while i went down to where i needed to set up the tripod. and there he was. enjoying the day. enjoying being home with me beside the ocean.

enjoying being alive.

and now he is the shadow man of my dreams. he is the rising sun and the setting sun. he is the moon at night and the stars in the sky. he is the wind in my hair and the warmth of the day on my skin. he is the end all be all of my life.
he is my Dragon and i am forever his.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

1095 days {blind faith}

{the 8th/9th will be 3 years. i've already written this post for those dates. i'm going to be swamped with work after today, my only day off, until after Valentine's Day. if you will pardon the expression, i'm buried in work. so i'm posting my 3 year missive today.}

it feels longer. it feels like forever. and then it hits me. again. he's never coming back.

i don't know if the shock has worn off yet. i guess it has, but i keep getting hit over and over. he's gone. i'm not going to be seeing him again.

he always seemed invincible. he was so hard and rough. he was a Marine. Force Recon. he was a sniper. he would be gone, but then he would come back to me. sometimes, when he would be gone, i would curl up in a ball on the bed and sob with worry that he would be lost out there in the world and they would not be able to bring him back to me; not be able to retrieve his body. the places they sent him to, the things he did, he couldn't tell me. i just knew from the look in his eyes and the additional scars on his body.

he hurt outside, and inside. he would hold me and ask for absolution.

i heard this soliloquy. i wrote it down as fast as i could. i hit me so hard when i heard it. it made me think of my Dragon.

spies live in the shadows but they dream of the light. when you work in covert ops for low pay and in life threatening conditions, the idea that your work won't remain secret forever keeps you going. one day, the world will learn what you've done even if your name is never known. some of the sweetest moments come when the job ends and the bullets stop flying ~ that is unless one of those bullets rips through your chest.
he always got home to me, even if bullets did rip through him, and believe me they did. and knives. i would take care of him and he would heal. and for that space and time, we were one.

and then he would go back out again. and our one was split; two halves separated waiting to be rejoined. and i would take care of him again. we would hold each other and his body would shake with sobs that would never come to the surface. he wanted absolution. he craved salvation for things he did for his country that he could never speak about.

i love him. i will always be in love with him. i feel like i am living without air. i've learned to breathe underwater because he would want me to. new life. new location. new job. all without him. all so different. like i am on another planet.
what we had together......the things i could tell you......the way he was with me. i don't know if it was rare. it was rare for me to be loved at all. and his devotion, that was all so new to me, to be cherished like that. and short. such a short time to be with the person i was meant to be with. the only one. my only love.

he is gone now and it has shaken me to my soul. what does it mean to die? where did he go? Heaven? Purgatory? no one can answer me on this. i hope no one tries. when i close my eyes and die, will he be there? we all say it to each other, "he's waiting for you." and we mean it from the bottom of our hearts. we want to offer comfort and reassure each other that the one person we connected with here is waiting for us there. but do we, in the dark of our own grief, fully believe and embrace it to the point where we no longer have any doubts when we are on our own? ever? even when we are very tired or stressed?

is he happy? does he remember me? is he safe?

we never really know how much we believe in something, or trust it, until it is tested. i always believed, you die, you go to Heaven, or Hell, and most certainly i have tried to be a good girl. but how narrow is that opening to get into Heaven? do snipers get in? do widows who grieve and ask questions, and have doubts get in?

i always trusted that, if you were good, you got into Heaven. it was supposed to comfort the grief-stricken. but now that belief has been tested with the death of my Dragon. i am finding myself worrying at times, in both the day and in the dark, about Heaven, and if God loves us enough. have i been good enough? have i said enough prayers? have i been humble enough?

all i can do is keep going. keep praying. and hold on to a faith so blind that i am stumbling a bit.

a woman wrote me yesterday through one of my hubpages articles. she is terribly worried and wanted to know what i thought about something. her father had died and she is grieving for him. her Aunt says her grief is out of proportion and that she is keeping her father's soul from entering Heaven by "calling him back with your grief." i wrote to her and gave her my opinion in a gentle and delicate, and faith-based way with full consideration to her feelings. but between you and me here, in a nutshell, i gave her the long version of this: i told her her Aunt was a poisonous bitch who was either stupid or cruel.

i hate cruelty. there is absolutely no reason for it. none.

i made a Bunny for the Grief Project. i sent her off believing i would never seen her again. but one day she appeared at my door. she came to visit me through my Dragon Days. is this a small sign? is grasping at straws and calling them signs a sin?
she brought a card signed by people i have never met. it said i could lean awhile. the little girl on the left, the one who's leaning, her expression......that bewildered, slightly hurt, little bit fearful expression is one i mask every day i leave the apartment.
but i did. i leaned on Lucy. i cried and could not speak. i cried and finally spoke.
i talked about my fears. i talked about my worries. i talked about my Dragon, my now immortal beloved.

my Dragon has left me here alone, testing my belief in Heaven, leaving me here with only blind faith. and i am so very blind.

the only thing i have is a song.

exactly on the nose 24 hours after he died, a radio that had never played before turned itself on and played Sarah MacLachlan's "Angel." to be precise the chorus played: "in the arms of the angels far away from here....."

that song is all i have really have to cling to, that and blind faith ~ the biggest test of all.

it's a very pretty song.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

"the best thing that's ever been mine"

it's February first. whoopee. i just paid rent minus $25 dollars because they are taking my washer/dryer. it's not up to code anymore. so i will have to hand wash until i can have a day off and get to my daughter's to wash my things. *sigh* one hand of fate caresses my face and hands me $25 while the other hand slaps me hard. no more easy laundry. c'est la vie.

he is always on my mind but now, more and more and more as the days get closer to the 8th/9th. i have so much to say but i seldom write here because, well, very few ever comment to me anymore. thank you so much to the ones that do. you are the only voices i hear with regards to my grief.

possibly more read and don't know what to say, and i could put that little app on the side that lets me know who in the universe has stopped by, but i would be afraid i wouldn't see anyone there. it would hurt my feelings and i don't need my feelings hurt anymore than they already get hurt.

i've lost so many people in my life. i've met and met online so many people just through this grief journey that have turned away and left me here. i don't need to see who isn't there or never was.

there is a new playlist on Bear Radio at work. there's this song that i cannot really determine the lyrics too much but the repeating chorus is "you are the best thing that's ever been mine." it resonates with me and i find myself listening for it to come around again. when i first heard it, it snagged my heart and i was frozen for a second. now i find a little comfort in it. bittersweet. melancholy. it's haunting.
i can't believe it's almost been the end of 3 years without him. without his smiles. without his touch. without his voice. where ever he is is home. and i want to go home.

i've been very busy; working very hard. i only had 2 days off in January. busy month. nice money but i'm paid so little hourly that i bow to every hour they give me. i need them because it's never enough. my stomach is eating itself out from worry over the doctor's appointment next Tuesday before work. my stomach is eating itself with worry over what the VA will do when they get my W2. "oh, we won't be giving her anymore money now. she's on her feet." no, i'm not. i'm floundering. if they cut me off, i will have to ask my son for help. i am so scared over this.

i was asked to make a Bunny for someone at work. here she is. i've almost finished the little quilt that goes with her. i'll show you photos when it's all finished.
here is the quilt i finished recently. the widow has received it though i have not heard back from her about whether or not she or her son like it. there is a ton of embroidery in this quilt. i made 79 cents an hour on this quilt. it kills me to make so little for so much work, but i quoted her a price without knowing how much embroidery she wanted and i honor my word.
i was asked to make a Bunny for a widow in Texas. her name is Rose. she wanted flowers or clouds and the sun so i gave her both. the pants have flowers on them and the shirt has clouds and the sun.
and i took the time to make Bunny a little shirt like the one her Dragon wore. it's Marine Camo with his name embroidered over the left pocket and U.S. Marines embroidered over the right pocket. she's wearing her man's shirt at work. she honors him for me.
life scares me so much, but then so does death. will i really be reunited with him? does God want to punish me for my sometimes wicked, selfish thoughts? i am so very tired of all this. all these thoughts that i cannot stop from running through my mind. all the worries i have that i quite literally cannot do anything about. Serenity Prayer aside, my worries are about survival.

i miss him fiercely. i miss him being there to tell me it's all going to be alright. i miss him holding my hand. i miss sleeping next to him. i miss sleeping almost under him. he was so warm.

i keep thinking about what Betty White said. when she dies and goes to Heaven she hopes God says, "come in, Betty. here's Alan."

i want God to say, "come on in, Bunny. here's....." and then my Dragon interrupts God {no offense God} and says, "aww Babe, i've missed you. come on. i've found a great place by the ocean. there's a big quilt on the sand for us. let's go lay down together and let you take a nap. i know you must be tired. i've been watching over you. i know what you've been through. after your nap i'm going to show you all around. it's wonderful up here." and i look back and God and He's smiling at me, like He loves me or something, and is happy i'm finally home.