Furry Beloveds

this is my blog where i come to vent.

i do not come here very often anymore; not like when he first died.

but i do come back.

the people i first met here, the widows and widowers who first commented and

engaged me in conversations, who befriended me

have mostly dropped off the horizon.

they're lives have taken them away from the need to come back here.

they are busy, remarried, adjusting without the need to speak to it.

i think i am a little bit lonelier then they.

in a different place in my heart?

not sure but i still do come here to write.

but i wanted anyone, everyone who reads to know that i am not in constant pain.

i am not suffering as i once was.

i am not over it though.

but i have accepted what has happened and what happens {present tense}.

i also wanted to show you happy pictures.

here is me {so to speak} with one of my Furry Beloveds.

Scootie Wootums is my little boy Scottie.

he likes to snuggle.  so do i.  it's a match made in Heaven.

my Dragon during one of our misty morning walks with our dogs on the beach in front of our home.

they and i were much younger.  he was still here.

now they and i are much older and he is not here.

but the memories.....

Scootie asking to go outside for walkies.

my sweet girl, Carmen Sophia, sharing her soul.

i sometimes feel a great loneliness when i see and know and realize that people are going home from work to their families, to busier lives than i have.

but then i walk into my Sanctuary to excited barks and wiggly butts and happy smiles

and know that i am also home to a busy, albeit slower paced, life and i relax and feel at peace.

i am home with my Furry Beloveds and there are walkies to be had and suppers to be made and snuggling to be done.

and when it's lights out, they are still there with me, yes, on the bed, and i can reach out and get a kiss.

if i have a nightmare they wake me from it.  

they are not therapy dogs.

they just love me.

and i love them.

Easter

it's almost Easter.

my grief has been with me for 6 years now.

i don't know if i can call it grief.

i am not in deep grief.  it has been 6 years.

but i miss him and i call myself widow, not single.

i wear my wedding rings.

is what i feel grief? or have i moved on?

i haven't moved on from him but i have moved on with my life.

i'm not stagnant. i work.  i consider my needs.  i think about my family.

i make plans.  i hope for things like a nice vacation,

pain control of my foot and my arm.

but it is Spring.

it is Easter, almost.

it is a time to reflect and rejoice.

i have so much to be grateful for.

i have these guys.  my roomies.

i love my Carmen Sophia and Scootie Wootums.

we cuddle, walk, talk; we live together, truly live our lives.

we dance and laugh and watch tv. they wait for me when i am at work and rush home to them.

i love them so very much.

i have my son who is so wonderful.  i am so proud of him.

he has a great job and would do anything for me.

he helped me buy my car.  he got me my new fancy phone.

he calls me once or twice a week.

most of all that is so important to me,

he confides in me.  he tells me things.

he treats me like his mom and not his aging mother.

i love him so very much.

i have these two.  my daughter and grandson.

they bring such joy to my life.

my daughter and i talk 2 - 3 times a day during my work days.

on my days off, we talk more than that.

and i go see her and help her out.

we play with Finn.  we talk and talk as women will do.

she worries about me and i worry about her.

we are kindred spirits 

as well as mother and daughter.

and i have my Sanctuary.

a place of my own.

a place i have made my own.

a place i retreat to and feel safe.

i miss him.  i talk to him.  i talk about him.

am i still grieving?

i truly have no idea what to call it.

i know i have so much to be happy about.

do i wish he were here to be a part of it?

yes.

am i over his death?

i am over the fear and shock.

but i am not over him not being here.

do i deal with it in a healthy way.

i don't know what someone would call this, but this works for me.

i wish everyone a happy Spring.

i wish those who believe a happy Easter.

peace to all who read.  peace and light to all who grieve.

time

there is nothing to stop time and life from moving on.

certainly not grief.

life just keeps going.

bills must be paid.

chores must be done.

you just do it while you hurt.

the thing now is to find the smiles,

the tiny things that make the passing of time,

the moving away from the moment of his death,

the realization that my life is forever changed,

those things that make me okay ~ for the time being.

she could be any young mother holding her baby looking out the window.

it could be from any time period.

i took it today while i was over visiting her and my grandson.

she is my baby.  my oldest child.

all grown up.

time passed.

i turned around and she grew up.

she married.

she is now a mother.

the little girl with the long, tangled hair who

loved to wear tutus over her jeans and sang so loudly to our dog

had left me for a time as she did all the adult things of college, work, getting married.
she was as gone as if she walked into the forest to never come back.

but i see her again

as she discovers the magic of being young again.

she sings to her son.

she holds him and cuddles him.

she talks to him about ducks and flowers and ladybugs.

 she sings the songs i used to sing to her and her brother.

she carries him around and doesn't put him down for a nap,

but lets him nap on her,

as i used to do her and her brother.

she says she remembers how i was when she was little

and she wants to do the same thing for her son.

i got teary.

we hugged and she asked me to teach her the words to a song she remembers the tune to but not the words.

so i taught it to her today.

that's what she was singing when i took the photo of them.

time will pass.

the sun will rise and it will set

all without him here.

but he is here with me.

i don't feel him near as in a presence.

i simply acknowledge to my quiet life that i love him.

and always will.

i work a lot and very hard.

but when i am home, i read, sew, and do it all while sitting with my lovely, furry roommates.

this is how we roll.

comfy on the sofa.

together.

snuggle buddies.

 but again i can see the passing of time; that cold, careless, unsympathetic torturer of relationships.

my gentle Scootie Wootums is getting older.  i can see his soft little face getting whiter.

he can't leap like he used to.

he likes to lay in the sunshine so that the warmth seeps into his bones.

 i understand that kind of pain.

i hurt deep in my back.

i hurt deep in my arms, my hands, and my knees are failing.

but i cannot stop working.

i have to provide for myself.

my sweet Carmen Sophia is getting older as well.  she and Scootie are litter mates.

they have only been separated once.

they were sold to different homes as puppies and grieved for each other.

they were returned to the breeder because they refused to eat.

once together again, they were happy.

i was called because i was on the list as a rescuer of dogs, given mostly senior dogs who were abandoned due to age.

so i took them in as puppies and have had the privilege of being in their lives all their lives.

and now, they are both older than i am.

time marches on and it's crushing me to see them get old.

i know what's coming.

so i take pictures.

i have so many pictures over our years together.

i love these dogs like i've loved no other that i have had in my life.

and i have deeply loved all my dogs.

i do not know how i will handle their passing.

but i will have to find a way.

time is not an enemy.  it simply is.

i try every day to appreciate the few who remain in my life.

i adore my Carmen Sophia and Scootie Wootums.

and i adore my daughter, my son, and my grandson.

time will pass and i will grow old.

but i have them.

and they make time worthwhile.

Enoch Arden

it's January of 2014.  that means it's been 4 years, 11 months.  59 months of living without my Dragon.  it feels like a long time.

there are days when i miss him a great deal.  there are days when i think of him and smile.

still, even on the good days, i have fleeting moments of wonder.

where is he?

is he safe and happy?

does he sort of remember me?

it's that whole mystery of death and afterlife introspective journey i take.

i have faith.  i just don't know what really comes next; what it will feel like, be like.

the days get strung together.  i live for my days off.  i get physically tired.

December was hard.  i worked 112 + hour weeks.

the overtime was nice, but getting that run down catches up to you.

i have been melancholy.

i have been evaluating my life.  am i okay?  what do i really feel?

i feel like 59 months is a long time to go without your best friend.

it's a long time to go without holding hands, talking, knowing they are waiting for you when you get off work.

it's a long time.

and it's hardly any time at all depending upon how long i have on this earth.

i'm melancholy and i can't put my finger on it.

i'm doing okay.  paying bills.  holding on.

i love my new grandson.

wish i could see him every single day.

hoping he loves me.

secretly hoping i'm his favorite gramma.  would never say that out loud.

if you met me you would say i have it all together.

i'm funny.  people gravitate to me.

i have some talent with creativity; art stuff.

but if you look into my eyes; when i look in the mirror,

i don't see the me i was when he was here.

i'm less.

i'm sadder.

it's in the eyes.

it's in the moments when i am utterly alone that a voyeur could tell.

i am definitely less than who i was before.

i bow out of things, like at my daughter's baby shower.  i had made this book for people to write things in for her, advice for the new baby.

her mother-in-law had purchased cards for that and stood in front of me to speak to it and pass them out.  i slipped back down in my seat and hid the book i made.  i was embarrassed and a bit hurt.

i had wanted to participate more in my daughter's baby shower but it became her event and i felt left out.  and i stayed out.

i bowed out and let her have it.

i'm low on everyone's list; even my own.

i am, however, very high on the list of two little hearts.

my dogs are my roomies, my cuddle-buddies.

i don't want them to die.  i know they will.

and i know i will react very badly when this happens. i already feel it inside my heart.

 my little Miss Carmen Sophia the Wild Gypsy Girl with the Sensitive Soul is showing signs of her age.  she's my little girl with such a big attitude and a willful spirit.  but she's also a momma's girl.  she loves me so much.  when i finally sit down, she is in my lap in a heartbeat.  she stretches out with a sigh as if she's thinking, "at last.  momma is home and she's mine."

 Mister Scootie Wootums Lord of the Dance with the Stardust Eyes is still a bit more lively, but even he has his moments when i can tell; i can see he no longer has a puppy heart.  he's slowing down.  to this day he goes in search of my Dragon.  he'll go to the closet and get one of my Dragon's shoes and lay with it.  nose inside the shoe sniffing.  if i equate his actions to what a human would do, it breaks me.  it looks so very much like he misses my, our Dragon.

and then there's my new grandson.  such a cutie.  i adore him.  i'm am so ready, so excited about playing with him, reading to him, singing to him, showing him things, but i am careful about what i write in public about that, and what i mentally plan for him and me.  i cannot infringe or overstep.  i dare not intrude on the plans and expectations his other gramma has.  i can't get in the way.

call me Enoch Arden.

{Enoch Arden is an old sea story.  it's the tale of a man who left his wife to go on a two year whaling trip long, long ago.  neither knew she was pregnant with their son when he left.  word came back that a terrible storm broke Enoch's vessel apart and all aboard drowned.  however, Enoch had survived.  he recovered and it took him 5- 7 years, depending upon which version of the story you read, for him to work his way back home.  when he did arrive, he found his wife had married his best friend.  he saw his son.  he also saw the three of them together standing at a memorial to him.  a man who recognized Enoch approached him saying that his "widow" honored his memory; that his son knew who he was, and that his friend was taking good care of the little family.  but he also asked Enoch why he wasn't rushing down to make his presence known.  

Enoch said, "it would destroy the happiness she has found and the security my son knows with my friend.  i cannot do that to them.  please do not tell them i was ever here."

Enoch gained a berth on a ship leaving the harbor that evening never to return.  the man held the story inside himself until Enoch's "widow" had passed and his son had grown and moved away.  then he spoke with awe and reverence of the selfless and heartbreaking decision Enoch made to sacrifice his own happiness to let his family have theirs.}

in an insignificant way, i am a bit like Enoch Arden.

i bow out.

i let others have their way.

i never speak up.

i get my feelings hurt a lot, too.

59 months without him here.

59 months without someone speaking out on my behalf when i never would.

59 months without that certain someone who always knew where i was at all times,

of him waiting for me.

59 months of being without him.

i'm melancholy.

i wish ........

see, funny thing, i don't even know what i wish for.

i'll just bow out now;

before i say too much.

transitioning

 my store is closing.  they are closing my store.  that was the news i got 4 weeks ago next Thursday.  it slammed into me like a fist into my stomach.  my first thought was "no money and no health care."

i cried.  they let me go home that day because i was so very devastated.  they offered me a part time job back at the store i trained at, at that moment, i accepted.  but the next day i started looking for work.  that evening i had an interview lined up with Stride Rite - shoes.  selling bears to selling shoes.   they offered me a full time assistant manager position at a store the same long distance from my little apartment but it comes with health care so i took it.  $1 an hour less in pay.  so i took it.  because jobs are so hard to find and this one literally fell into my lap.  one week exactly from the day i heard they were closing my store, i had another job to walk into.

i was lucky and i know it.  but i am still scared.  tomorrow starts my new job.  first question?  what is the pay period?  when do i get a paycheck again?  second question?  when does health care kick in?

transitioning is so very scary for someone like me.  i'm still a Bunny of a woman.  i'm quiet.  i seldom defend myself.  case in point.  when i had to return the keys to my store, one of the part time managers at the store i returned them to told me i was crazy for accepting the job i did, that i was stupid to accept a job where i would still have to drive so far, and on and on.  what did i say in return?  nothing.  i cried and walked away.  she saw me crying.  she knew she had made me cry.  i did not look back.  what do you say to someone who points things out like that?  "is your life so miserable that you relish every opportunity to make someone cry and feel scared?  do you look in the mirror and see the monster i see inside you?"

but Bunny says nothing.  she just cries and walks away, and, of course, has yet another place and person she avoids.  such cruelty in the world.  thoughtless acts.  purposeless.

 i closed and locked the doors to my store for the last time on Good Friday.  i peeked back in and cried.  i cried for all the fuzzy friends i will not get to make.  i cried for the uncertain future i am headed into.  i cried out of fear and loneliness.  i cried all the way home.

home.  when i got home there they were.  my two friends.  they love me unrestrained.  they have no self-interests.  there is no evil in them, no malice.  they are incapable of revenge or cruelty.  dogs are "the rich man's guardian and the poor man's friend, the only creature faithful to the end."  ~ George Crabbe.

i love them.  i anticipate their greetings as i hurry up the stairs.  i open the door and sigh with relief.  i am with them again.  our little pack of three are reunited.  all is well within the sanctuary of our small little place.  we all pile on the bed and we all three sigh.  snuggle time.  cuddle time.  time to rest together.  one of our pack is now gone forever, and i know that these two will see him before i will.  but for now, we are together, and i can cry, ask them questions, "what do you think about this, or that?"  they listen with all the intensity of a worried therapist.  they lick my tears and sit on my legs trapping me, drifting off knowing that if i move, they will awaken.

transitioning is hard on them, too.  my daughter is coming over on breaks or after her own shift to walk them until my hours are figured out.  the first week i am being trained and have to drive an hour to another store and an hour back.  the company is paying for mileage but i do worry about my dogs, my friends, my babies; so my daughter is coming to walk them.    i can find comfort during the day in that.

so life has decided that i am to do something different now.  from bears to shoes.  a job of serving others.  on my knees fitting shoes to others' feet.  humble.  very humble.  i asked my children if they were ashamed that i had come to this and they said, no, that they were so very proud of me.  they felt i had earned this "move up" and they it was meant to be.  it all happened so fast and so easily.

i have no idea what lessons i am now supposed to learn and/or what i am to give to everyone now, but i guess i'll go with the flow.  i'll work, and learn, and give and give.  i'll keep my head down and work.

once i transition into this job i have made a promise to myself, set a new goal.  i want to try to be happy.  i want to try and find a way to accept this life better, be on better terms with it, because i am tired of being so afraid and so depressed.  i miss him badly.  i miss him as a friend, companion, lover, husband, as someone who truly cared about me.  i miss him, but i have to keep going and i want to do that "keep going" thing better than i have been.  fear and worry and grief have taken their toll on me.  so i am going to try to find "happy."  or i could grade on a curve and find "doin' okay."  i'd accept that.

life is a journey.  "doin' okay" first, then "happy."

and i'll take my little Carmen Sophia and Scootie Wootums along with me.  after all, "i get by with a little help from my friends."

p.s. the Veteran's Administration has approved my waiver and released me from any obligation to pay them back for their mistake.  {just keep breathing, Bunny.  for some reason that went your way.  just keep breathing.}

Bunny's Pinning !! ~ and bad days still

Bunny is pinning.  hope you follow her.  she likes to see that, those numbers.  she likes to see if anyone notices her.  lets make Bunny's numbers go up and up.  she pinning some pretty good stuff.  *tease tease* she's an awful interesting Bun.

http://pinterest.com/abandonedsouls/

bad days still.  the Bun is so very tired.  did she tell you?  she fell down.  her knee is broken.  little chips floating around inside her knee.  she needs arthroscopic surgery.  she's got to figure this out.  yes, she has insurance now but it's the time.  she won't be paid for any days off.  she needs that paycheck.  so she's gonna try to figure out a way for her to have a couple of days off side-by-side to have the surgery and recuperate.  then take a "honey day" - bear language for a paid day off - to do some more resting.  3 days should do it.  after all, didn't that 14-year old Olympic gymnast have it done and performed the next day?  Bunny is just as spry as a 14-year old Olympic gymnast.  right?  okay, but at least admit she has the heart of one, the determination to withstand the pain to do it.  not the Olympics but at least have the surgery and then get up and get her little Bunny self back to work.

so she's thinking, knee first, then foot.  *very heavy sigh*

it's been 4 weeks since her work schedule and her daughter's work schedule worked out for them to get together.  that's a long time to not see a friendly face.

which brings Bunny to the teaser that she's working on a blog entry about the human condition, the humans she sees at work.  Lordy Lord Lord, there are some freaky people out there.  and she thought the other mall had some strangers.  she's met some real nutcases at this mall.  come back and check soon as she's got to tell you about this.

this morning Bunny woke up and was hurting so badly she cried.  not out of grief.  not out of loneliness.  just in physical pain.  and then the grief hit her.  she wanted an apple and cinnamon toast.  so she called out her Dragon's name.  so thoughtless.  so cruel that Bunny.  but she didn't know.  she just didn't know Miss Carmen Sophia the Wild Gypsy Girl and Mr. Scootie Wootums Lord of the Dance with the Stardust Eyes would react so.

Bunny called out her Dragon's name and both dogs instantly sat up in bed.  they jerked there gazes to the bedroom door waiting for him to come in to the bedroom to us.  i tried to hug them.  they kept pulling away to keep their eyes on that door.  stupid Bunny.  it's been 3 years, but it's Dragon!  of course they don't really understand.  they are loyal and faithful.  they are waiting for him to come back. 

Bunny cried.  and they forgave her and licked her face and cuddled with her.  Bunny felt she didn't deserve it at all.

see?  bad days still.

deflated

i toss

i turn

sleepless.

what words to use to express now i feel. silence seems safest and yet it is a betrayal to what i am trying to achieve. but i cannot stand the pointers who push and suggest and tell what can and should be done. i just want to be heard and comforted. no one has ever been face-to-face with me and comforted me.

it is not all black and white. lots of it is gray shrouded in fog. no one can see another's soul, not unless the whole story is known. odd bits tossed on a table cannot possibly allow for armchair counselors/veterans of this particularly brutal war to draw the correct assumptions, then to give the correct advice.

i do not want to silence myself again. i do not want to lose my voice again. i have worked so very hard to get even here, to this humble state. i have only wanted comfort. i have only wanted to speak in a small voice about what i feel, the troubles i am having in dealing with all the financial, medical, exhaustion, and grief issues. i am not as bad off as some, but i am not as well off as others. i have not written about all that happened. i never could expose myself publicly that way. but know that there are deep pains and horrors that have left scars on my soul. flashbacks come and he is not here to comfort me, to hold me. i am once again alone. and oh, how i wish he had not died.

"unnailed, uncoffined, unknown."

the threat used quite often to keep me in line, to keep me working, ever working, always working, bent and beaten to the tune sung by people who believed they owned me. they never owned my soul. but their mantra is what i am washing off the wall of my life. little by little, but it takes time. something that was painted over and over upon itself for over 50 years takes a little time to wash off.

do this, do it this way, do that, you should be here, you should be further along, well, of course {idiot understood} do it your way, but you should be much further along.

i tire of all this. no, i cannot do it your way. sorry. i amble. i am a wanderer. i take pictures. i study it. i work through the whats and whys and then do away with. i am looking fully at each piece of my life and then packing it up slowly, and only then do i put it away. but the cost is insomnia and exhaustion. the gain, though, is letting go of the memories.

still, i wish i could feel some anger. i never could stand up for myself.

but i can for them, the constants in my life, plus one more, my son, who is a very private man.

for all the work i have done, for all the work i have yet to do, i need strength. i need to sleep. and God help me there are nights i cannot.

sorry, yes, there are times i feel deflated.

and i do try to write it out, hoping for comfort. sometimes someone has the words. sometimes, someone gives them to me. and for a time, i am soothed.

it has been 2 years, 4 months, and 24 days, and i still have not had the luxury of anyone coming to physically sit beside me while i cry. no one to hold me while i sob. no one to get up and make me a cup of tea to soothe my ravaged throat. no one to mourn with me. i have done it all in isolation. it is hard to have your husband die and look around at 1 week, 1 month, 7 months, 14 months, 19 months, 23 months, 28 months and 24 days and still no one is coming to sit with you so you can talk about him and cry with them, gain comfort from them. moving the day of his funeral, as circumstances mandated, has almost destroyed me. but there were no other options. and you can never, ever know the reasons why. you just have to accept that and try to find it in you to offer comfort.

and if you write in a comment that i have my adult son and daughter to fall apart in front of, and that my Dragon was only their stepfather, you never read a single posting of mine, nor do you have the capacity to understand what he means to them, and what it means to be a mother.

"who are you wanderer?" and the answer you have to give no matter how dark and cold the world around you is: "maybe i am a king."

two dog night

i had a long day at work. several children's parties to do/perform for, whatever it is called. i was the head party person all perky and happy. i kept all the children entertained and happy. more importantly, i kept the parents all happy.

i am wiped out.

i am driving back to the apartment and i think, "i'll surprise my dogs and quickly step in to take a picture."

i walk in the door and see this.

Carmen Sophia wasn't asleep. i had stepped in and she did not turn her head towards me. i heard her sigh. do dogs sigh? it sounded like she did. then she got up and came over, all happy to see me. her little yips and cries were so heartbreaking because i know she missed me. 10 hours is a long day for them.

i sat down to eat my supper, a bowl of Cheerios, and answer a couple of emails, to check in with my daughter, and i got hit in the soul with a photo on my background.

this one.

i could not eat my cereal. i got choked up and started to cry.

i miss him. i miss our walks. i miss the snow. i know, crazy to miss that cold, deep, wet mess, but when you walked like we did together, the sudden cessation of doing that carves the sorrow of not getting to do that anymore into your soul.
we walked, obviously, in any weather. Carmen and Scootie loved walking. they are such curious little dogs. so funny.

i miss getting soaking wet and cold. i miss his having a small flask of hot chocolate in his pocket in case my bout with hypothermia reared its ugly head. {i was told that having had that happen exacerbates the pneumonia. if i get cold, blam. my lungs react badly.} my Dragon would let me walk in the snow, but he kept watch on our time and took care of me. it wasn't so much the snow as warming up afterwards, or rather, his technique for warming me up.

*sigh* i miss him terribly.

having Carmen and Scootie with me as my constant companions has been a great comfort and blessing to me. they are so crazy. so cute. such a little team.
but i think they miss him. maybe it's exhaustion making my mind take a fanciful turn. after all, i'm the one who sent a stuffed bunny, the Traveling Ambassador of Grief and Whimsy, on a road trip around the world.

but then again, i believe in little tiny miracles. like a Dragon finding a woman deep in the shadows; like a Dragon loving a woman as scarred as i am. little miracles.

like believing that a little dog can miss her master, and that maybe she really did sigh.

a storm is coming. heavy rain. it's going to be a two dog night. then again, it's always a two dog night at my place.