flashlight in the dark

i lay there and hope it's not real; that i'm not really awake again/still.

if i use the flashlight it will only be for a little while.

it's not for long.

i'm not getting up but i do have things on my mind that i need to get off my mind.

writing them down will help.

bad nights wear me out but they are productive.

when i do this the dogs move closer to me.  they cuddle.

first it's, "does she suddenly have a snack?"

then they know.

you can almost see it pass between them.

"you think she's cold?"

"yeah.  she's pretty miserable.  let's make a mommy sandwich."

so they deepen their cuddle.  i can feel their bodies squirm and twist as they snuggle down to get still closer to me.

he was always so warm.  i never wore socks to bed.  he would keep my feet between his legs.  or i would move my feet close and he would capture them to warm them.  he always knew.

and he burned so brightly.  he was always so warm to the touch.

Lord, i miss him.

i'd love to talk to him, have him embrace me and lend me some of his confidence, his bravado, that something-something that he had that kept him going on the worst days, his worst days when he was a Marine trying to survive and get home.

Lord, i really do miss him.

so under that soft light, i write what's on my mind.

a fantasy grocery list for a day when i have enough money to go.

things i need to take care of at work.

things i want to remember.

thoughts i have.

like this blog.

little notes to myself because i don't want to forget.

secret things that the cold light of day would diminish.

Christmas is coming.  i have worries.

busy time/stressful time for retail people.

worried about meeting the new higher rent that will start up on Jan. 1.

i wish things had turned out differently.  and i am glad certain things didn't.

but writing them down on a scrap of paper lit by a flashlight in the dark seems to make them more manageable.  it makes it seem like maybe i'm coming up with a plan to deal with them.

like maybe, just maybe, by some form of Grace, i might survive this.

the answer was "no."

update on the living thing - on the rent going up and i hope i can save myself living situation thing.

their answer was "no."

Bunny has to try and get this all figured out, but she's not alone.  she's got the best friends there ever could be with her, staying by her side through shattered dreams and tear-filled nights.

that's more than a lot of others get to have.

but she knows, oh, Bunny knows that

life isn't going to be kind to her;

not just yet.

*sigh*

the bad thing happened

i happened today.  i was called to a meeting.  they are closing my store.

the silver lining is that they want me to move back to the store i trained in; the one that is 5 minutes from my apartment.  i will be making $2 an hour less, dropping down in health benefits but still keeping some.  it all happens on April 25th.

i have already started looking for another part time job so that i can get back that 40 hour work week.  going to try to get something so much closer to the apartment.  no more 35 minute drives to work.  just 5 minutes up the road to the mall, or some shop close by.

please wish me luck.  i need it.  i cried all day.  i asked for it off, paid, so that i could grieve over this and get myself regrouped to face the upcoming fall out of putting up signs in my store that we're closing.

this has hit me so hard.  my daughter is sort of happy since i have been so very stressed.  it has damaged my health to be so stressed.  i hope everything works out for me.  i hope i get lucky and find another little job.

i'm a little bit happy to be going back to my old store.  it is so very close.  God, i missed being so close to home.  that drive was killing me financially with gas going up to $4 a gal, plus the exhaustion of working so long and then having that long drive back so late at night.  now if i can just find another position somewhere.  two part time jobs.  i'm not over-qualified so maybe i'll have a chance.

please wish me luck.  i need it.

i wish i could talk to him.  he had been in tight jams before.  he was such a survivor, well, until he didn't survive the heart attack.  i have to be honest and say i have been worried about myself, about the way i've been feeling physically.  i'm so tired and my back and neck burn and ache, and it sometimes goes into my armpit.  my blood pressure has been good and i take all my meds.  i pray, meditate, talk to ...... let's just call it prayer.  i'm trying to hard to be worthy of better luck in this life and then be worthy of peace and safety in the next.

but i am just so broken.

right now, tonight, i am terrified, filled with stress and worry,

and am having a hard time holding onto hope.

it's taking all i have left to keep going.

Build-A-Bear ~ the complexities of survival

i got the job at Build-A-Bear. seasonal for now. i hope i can prove myself, that they see i would be valuable to stay on after February.

after they called yesterday afternoon late, i cried. my daughter was still with me {her day off} so i was not alone to weather the storm of emotions that followed. i sobbed. i smiled. i was terrified. again with the "what ifs." i need this job to last. i need it to be at the very least 20 hours a week just to keep my head under the surface of disaster. i know how to breath through a straw.

i am alone.

my son has said he can help me, but in truth, i need to bear {no pun intended} the brunt of this burden on my own. i need to earn enough to squeak by. i start this afternoon and only get 3 hours. Saturday i am at work for only a 2.5 hour day. it may still be training, or work while being overseen so that i am proficient and prepared for Black Friday. and then i need hours. hours and hours. and then i will come home and sew on the commissions.

i got up this morning shaking, trembling. crying and relieved and terrified. i am tired. i keep saying that and i do not know how to explain it. i could but i do not think anyone would understand. it is something i am saving for the Matriarch of Grief and Joy who has given me the gift of her time in trade for the gift of a quilt i am going to make for her.

i wish he were here.

i have this fantasy that i go off to Build-A-Bear and he goes off to Loew's or something macho but not "out of town" job and we have our little apartment and food and our few bills are not a problem. we are not rich., but we do get by. and that we have each other to hold onto and laugh with and love and touch.

i miss kissing him.

i am tired and i do not know if it will get better. i hope it will. i am willing to work long hours and come home and work long hours. i know i will be more tired but maybe it will be enough. maybe being tired is the best i should hope for. maybe it is all i should expect and i am being greedy.
i have this other fantasy. someone with a lot of money comes along and loves my artwork. all of it. photographs. writing. stained glass. embroidery work. quilting. sewing. oil paintings. and they want to be my Patron. they want to sponsor me. pay my bills so that i do not have to worry about anything other than creating. they believe that my artwork is powerful and they are arrogant enough to want to be the one to "find" me and then be my sponsor. big feather in their cap.

foolish dream. foolish old woman. i think it is the fantasy of a love-starved woman who was not approved of during her life. and then when her Dragon finally found her, he was taken from her and she is slipping back into her old sorrows and believing the flashbacks that hit her like a Mac Truck.

i cut off my hair. the man who did it loved the picture i picked out. he fluffed and trimmed. he cut off about 2 inches. he called me a pixie. yeah, because when i look in the mirror at the dark circles under my eyes, at the silent terror in my eyes, and at the hollowed out soul that i know exists inside, i think "pixie!"

i wish my Dragon could be here with me. i wish his voice and touch and smell and the taste of his skin were still available to me. i miss him. i want to talk to him. i am so very grateful for the Build-A-Bear job and i feel greedy praying for enough hours so i can live. i got the job and now i am asking for more. my hand always seems to be out to God, but then, i have no one else to turn to.

i wish my Dragon could be with me here. life is so complex. simple things and yet complex as well. job. enough hours. transportation. not having a car and no bus route to get there.

{the woman at the Charlotte Transit Authority ~ the Bus Lady ~ thought it was strange, too, that she could not get me a bus route that does not have me walking 3/4 of a mile to a bus stop to have me sit on the bus for 40 minutes to make a less than 10 minute drive by car to the Mall where Build-A-Bear is located.}

i am tired of life and i wish he were here with me. but i sit with my quilt of his clothes wrapped around me and i pretend it still smells like him. i dream he is with me. i dream he is coming home soon.
but i got the job at Build-A-Bear. however terrified i am about how many hours and how long will they keep me, i am sobbingly, humbly grateful i got the job.

stress, fear, grief

the full moon is returning. i get anxious for it. what if there is cloud cover? what if the new camera stops working? what if whatever is growling out there in the darkness comes out of the stand of trees and gets me? {another story. *sigh*}

i have a quilt in the frame to get finished in time for a young man to receive it before Christmas. what if my hand keeps cramping? what if the double quilting takes me longer? what if i get it to the post office too late? what if the mail is slow?

Build-A-Bear has not called. what if they do not want me? what if i do not ever get the chance to wear the blue blouse and build a bear for someone?

i have a job interview at Sears on Tuesday morning. what if they do not want me?

i have filled out a job application for Michael's Craft Store. what if they do not want me?

i am a f*cking artist! i can type between 78 and 88 wpm. i am detail oriented, meticulous with order, filing, notes, appointments. i have a crazy, off-the-charts memory. though no one who has met me in the widow world would believe me, in the business world i am on top of all my responsibilities. i will get the quilt done and to the post office in time if i have to work 24/7. i am intelligent, resourceful, on task, look for more work to stay busy and earn my keep. i have experience in a number of capacities. i can balance a spreadsheet. i can clean well enough for surgery. i can strategize for multiple problems. i am intuitive to people's moods and feelings. i would never say anything to hurt anyone. i think very hard before i speak. i would be good at customer service.

i have so many skills. why can i not get a job in the real world? my art is my life and soul but i need a steady stream of income. i need it yesterday. i was awesome at the interview at Build-A-Bear. the only thing was that i was not 18 - 21 like the other women were. i had more on the ball and answered first. those girls answered all their questions with the lame-assed, "well, like she said" and pointed to me! ah, nevermind. maybe Sears or Michael's will hire me, but what if they don't.

what if? what if? i am killing myself on the "what ifs."

i want to go home.
i want to go back to where he and i were. but different. i want the financial worries to be gone. i want him to have not had to go out on that last "out of town" trip that took so much out of him. i want to be safe financially. not wealthy. not rich. just safe. i want him to be safe and well. i want to be with him back where we were, haunting the water's edge, scavenging for treasures the ocean tosses up to see if we are paying attention.
i want his hands on my neck and shoulders. see, now that the clock is ticking and it is imperative that i find a job NOW, i work so hard to keep a clean apartment and to get these quilts done and the jeans done. if i am not working on something, if i stop work for the night before 10 PM i feel like i am lazy. i feel terrified that i am failing. and working on any commission work is not bringing me a weekly, or bi-monthly paycheck. i am terrified. i have panic attacks all through the day. it is my second job or i guess i multi-task. sew, send out resumes, fill out job applications, try to breathe.

if he were here we would figure this out together. if he were here i would deeply massage his tired muscles and in turn, he would gently massage my hands. he would deeply massage my neck and shoulders from being hunched over the sewing. if he were here someone would be touching me and i would not feel alone. my children are there and they are adults. thank God. but they are my children and i am supposed to take care of them. at least protect them. how can i protect them from you know who, from life, from everything that money can protect you from without having money? i cannot even take care of myself.
our life was not a fairy tale but it was as close as it could be without the money to feel secure. we loved. we loved each other. we loved where we lived. we loved the people we were getting to know. we loved the storms and the sunshine. we loved the seasons and our walks. we loved being with each other. every day was a blessing and we were working hard to build a future. his deal was falling through but the woman was charged with embezzlement and fraud. she is in prison, but my Dragon did not live to see that justice. he is removed from the pain of that and in a way, i am glad. but then i think about the time he was dying, and i wonder.

was he even cognitively processing? did he know he was dying? was he screaming in a voice no one heard that he could not leave me like this? did he die worried about me? that's when i shatter into a million pieces all over again. i want him to feel like his life was successful. i want him to know i love him and am proud of him. i want him to feel peace. i want him to forget the cruelties of this life and only know peace and relaxation and joy.

i hope Heaven has an ocean for him to be walking beside. and a place like Bearskin Neck. old places where passing time has no meaning.

i have been in a tailspin ever since he died. i am under so much stress, i am so afraid that i cannot grieve at times. i can only miss having him there to comfort me, help me, share with me the trials of life. i can only miss crawling into bed beside him "and all but your presence forget."

i am tired of fighting for a life. i would settle for an existence. i do not need much. my wants are fading with each passing day. dreams are something i write down in long hand in a journal that no one will see. trying to capture and keep hope close is like trying to light a trick candle. it is a cruel and embarrassing joke. i strike the match and the flame catches to the wick, but then it goes out. i keep striking match after match and i am running out of matches, and time. the darkness is coming, a dark so absolute i may as well be at the bottom of the Challenger Deep. it is a place where i will no longer be an artist. i will no longer be me. i will be prey. dramatic? maybe. truth? pretty close.

stress and fear are hindering my grief. i am not grieving. i am crying out for him to come and save me. Bunny's one long, single and only howl. please come back and save me, Dragon. i want to go home.

i need you, my darling, my darling

with it's yearning my very heart aches

the load that divides us weighs harder.

i shrink from the jar that it makes.

old sorrows rise up to beset me

old doubts make my spirit their own

oh, come through the darkness and save me

for i am alone.

is that all there is?

it came. the letter. i get something each month, at the end of the month for the month before. it is far, far less than what i had hoped for. it is far less than what i had even expected. no wonder the man on the phone had said, "it is less than what he deserves for what he did."

did i tell you that he had been captured once? he was. they only had him for 3 weeks because he got away, but they did things to him. they hurt him. after that, and for the rest of his life, it was difficult for him to find shoes that were comfortable for longer than 3 or 4 hours.

he deserved more recognition from his government, but i believe every widow of a veteran can say that. in that one thing i am not alone.

my ex got pissed at me this weekend for what i think of as a small infraction. i have no control over life or him. i just have to run the gauntlet. or maybe i should twirl and dance. harder to hit someone who dances to the song playing in their head, a music no one else can hear. but he is a pressure on my lungs that is like a giant rock. heavy. huge. he held off on my food money and my rent money transfer until this morning. yesterday was purgatory waiting him out. i did not write. i did not call. when he called, i endured the lecture pretty much how i always have, silently. and when i spoke, i chose my words carefully.

he huffed and puffed and all it got was windy. there is nothing he can do to hurt me more than the death of my Dragon hurt. i am so tired of being scared. i think i am just going to bury scared in the sand and walk away. i have too many other fears cropping up now and for the rest of my life to be afraid of someone who isn't really in my life anymore. not too too much anyway.

and come Jan. 1, he will only have one leash on me. the other lines will be severed. financially speaking, i am in the middle of a constant panic attack until i figure out if i have the job or not. wednesday. i need Wednesday's job interview to be perfect, and i am so far from perfect; i have never seen perfect. no one would call me even "right," but he did. my Dragon thought i was perfect. and he was flawed perfectly, the perfect fit for me.

i am ready for this to be over or i am ready for him to come back. one of the two. okay? ah, well, c'est la vie. it is what it is and it will be what it will be. i guess that's really Que Sara Sara. but that song did not fit my mood with the "Is That All There Is" letter from the VA. and i have always liked Peggy Lee's voice. kind of a smokey, torch singer in a basement jazz and blues bar voice.

i miss him. i am scared. sometimes i think i feel so much and so deeply that i am incapable of feeling much at all. i did panic my son yesterday. he called and i had been crying. i sounded like i had a terrible cold. he again reassured me that we will work this out. i will not be homeless or without food. hearing my son say that, the little boy i protected all his life, it feels surreal.

a woman from the old group left a note on my Facebook page last week, the personal one. i have not heard from her in 6 months, i think it is. 5 or 6. i have sent a couple of emails. left some comments to her postings on FB, but heard nothing back. and then she leaves a comment that we should re-connect. i sent her a private message that i would love to do that. i gave her my phone number again in case she had lost it. and i have heard nothing back. if a widow does not understand loneliness and financial hard times, or have time for another widow, then there is nothing i can do. my door is open. the phone lines are open. i will not stand on a porch waiting for someone who cannot find their own front door.

i have my daughter and son. i have my two little dogs. i have my Dragon, sort of. my memories anyway. i have the knowledge that i was good enough for him. he loved me. there i said it. past tense. you have no idea how big a step that is for me. but he is gone and whether he loves me now is beyond my knowing. i like to believe he does. but i know for fact that he did love me once. and i love him. if i am only good enough for one person during my life, then so be it. life has not been easy. i have weird things i have to deal with through no choice of my own. i can only do what i can do. and i am who i am. my Dragon loved me and i do find solace in that.

now i am lonely Beach Bunny alone. {i think there is a poem in that title.} i am struggling to get a handle on, not who i am, i know who i am; but on what the hell will happen to me. i just want to have a roof and food. roof and food. that's my mantra. screw health care. next up is applying for food stamps. i work non-stop on getting by every day all day. embroidering, quilting, sewing, and now waiting on that job interview and prostituting myself to others with a vibrancy and love of life i no longer have. but for a roof and food, i will smile and shine.

maybe one day it will all come together. maybe one day i will be able to relax for one day. one moment. maybe one day something will happen and i will not be panicked any longer. until then, i will keep working, searching for work, and taking it up the fluffy white tail from those odd people who race to the gauntlet line and reach out for a quick slap to make themselves feel good.

{Bunny does have a sense of humor.}

all i can do is keep hopping, twirling, maybe dancing a little, and cry a little. tears cleanse the eyes and the peanut gallery on the sidelines of my gauntlet will get their jollies from seeing me cry while i just keep going. and one day, they will all get bored with their cruel game. it is really win-win if you think about it. and if i get the Build-A-Bear job, i will be busy being like Mr. Magorium's assistant, not really, but sort of. you have to be inside my head.

for now, the Bun is alone. her Dragon has died. all she can do is hop along, twirl and dance when she can. she will just keep jumping through everyone's hoops. too bad some of those hoops are on fire.

but Bunny was made at Build-A-Bear and her fur is more or less flame retardant. until they hold her down and really work to destroy her, she will keep going. and, as the song says, if that's all there is, then she will keep dancing, but only under the light of the full moon.

happy Halloween & the VA update

first off, i hope you enjoy the song i added for Halloween.

and now for the blog.

i do not believe in cliffhangers for the sake of having a cliffhanger so i will get right to it.

i called the VA again. i have been almost hyperventilating with panic. my claim for my Dragon's death pension has been approved. the letter is in the mail. i will not know how much i will get each month but it will be something. i know it will not be enough to pay my rent and electric and cable. i have to accept that fate. it panics me, but there it is.

when he told me, i thanked him. i think it was my voice. i was not ebullient. in fact i was shuddering on sobs. the man asked me if i was all right. i said, "yeah. i guess so. we'll see." he asked if i was in trouble. i said, "financially? definitely. emotionally? always will be. my husband is dead."

then he said, "i know, ma'am. i am so very sorry. and i'm sorry it took so long. i wish i could tell you what the letter states but i can't over the phone. but it's coming and you've been approved. it isn't enough for what he went through. he earned a hellava lot more, but it's all we can give you. i am a Force Recon Marine from the 'Nam era. i know what he went through. call us if you have any questions."

we disengaged the conversation and i just sat there. the letter is coming. i have been approved. and yet i am still frightened. i do not know how much it will be but, hey, it will be better than what i have coming in right now. i can only hope i can make it all work.

on Wednesday, Nov 3rd, i have a job interview at ...... wait for it ....... cliffhanger ..... Build-A-Bear. it is a group job interview and i still may wash out but, i got called to come in. my meager resume that reflects teaching pre-school and teaching art to K through 6th grade about 100 years ago, and then being an artist all my life seemed to not throw them off yet. so pray for me if you believe. i see that many do not {pray/believe multiple choice} anymore and i apologize for asking for prayers so intensely when i was falling apart a bit ago. it was not my intent to upset anyone or proselytize anyone into Christianity or the Roman Catholic Church. although, do i get points for Heaven if i do? sorry. i had to do that. a little joke between me and someone who "May Stop Reading Your Blog!"

i got a random email after my panicked posting of before telling me this person was going to stop reading my blog if i did not stop shoving God down everyone's throat. i did not write back, but i thought, how will your stopping reading hurt me when i did not know you read in the first place? and how is your stopping reading going to hurt me at all? "ooooo. i going to stop reading your blog." okay. so stop.

so for those who do not pray, i guess, and only if you choose to, cross your fingers for me shortly after lunch time that day. that's when the interview starts. unless crossing your fingers is somehow against some deity or ideal you cleave to. {i just wanted to see how far i could push it. i will be waiting to see if i get another email from this person, and btw, "God."}

in the meantime, the Bun has been busy. her fuzzy hands are flying all over the place on different commissions.

and the Bun is very, very excited. she goes on the Soul Widows retreat next weekend ~ the 5th - 7th. here is another link to Elizabeth's site specifically for this retreat. you can see what Bunny will be doing that weekend and at what time. sort of voyeuristically stalking the Bun.

i write for an online resource magazine and i will be posting there about the retreat. not while i am there. Bunny cannot afford that kind of technology. i will write about it when i get back, and here as well.

in the meantime, while waiting on the VA letter {whew i think/i hope/at least it is something} and waiting on the job interview, and to go to the spiritual retreat, the Bun, me, i am filling my hours embroidering, sewing, quilting, doing what i hope is a lasting legacy. and if i am only known as "CR 'heart' SR" then i will be known as "Dragon loves Bunny" and that is pretty cool.

happy Halloween everyone. i wish for you all no tricks, just treats. and hope. lots and lots of peace and hope.

is this living or merely existing?

i'm not sure if i'm actually living or merely existing now. i feel like i'm drifting in a ven diagram of three overlapping circles. one circle is fear ~ financial and health. another circle is loneliness and hesitation to call anyone to simply talk, to let someone know i'm out here. the third circle is one of shock and numbness from the toll life has taken so far. fifty-one and i'm alone, without money, and hope is slim. all these circles overlap each other in that slice that is grief. it is the largest by far and the heaviest to sit in. i try to move out of this diagram but there is no map. it's a labyrinth of twists and sudden walls. i can't see over it and i can't find a way under it. i'm walking and walking but i get clubbed in the knees almost every day.

i am short of money, again. i am rationing food, again. my ex has decided i need to learn a lesson so he won't make another payment of the money he owes me until the first of the month. i've done it before. i can do it again, but i'm so tired. i'm tired of living. it's so hard. without the strength of my Dragon, i feel myself sliding down to my knees all the time.

it's ironic how much i want and how little i think i deserve. i want a small home, a townhouse maybe with a small enclosed courtyard for my two little dogs to play in. i want a small car so i can drive myself to the store. i want my quilts to sell, my sock animals to sell, my photographs to sell. i want my novels to be accepted for publication. i want to provide for myself so i don't have to make 5 days of food stretch for 14 days, or until he decides he will lower himself to make a payment.

i'm scared all the time. it goes up into a state of panic every other day or so, but i wrestle it down. i draw on my memories of my Dragon's stories of what he went through as a Marine. i draw on his strength from what i know he endured and transform it into my own strength.

there's no other option but to keep going for as long as life lets me. it's been taking these big bear swipes at me for what seems like forever. i want something good to happen financially, just once. i wished it could have happened while my Dragon lived. he deserved so much more than he got. he deserved a long, quiet, peaceful retirement. if you are a person of faith, it can be argued that he got it. that he's in Heaven right now with no physical pain and a soul at peace from the horrors of this life. i just wish he could have gotten some peaceful time with me here in this life. it's such a beautiful world. mountains. ocean. clouds. sunsets. the smell of bar-be-que. the sight of your daughter trying on her wedding dress. the sound of your son on the phone laughing.

i miss him. he's so handsome. his smile is so contagious. he laughs with all that he is. i could go on but it wouldn't matter to anyone but me. let me just say that to stand next to him was a powerful feeling for me. i cherish him so much. i just wish he were still here with me. i sit in this little apartment and wish for all the world that he were here for me to talk to.

going through each day in fear, loneliness, hesitation to let anyone who knows me how bad it really is, all the shocked numbness that he's dead, and all this heavy, oppressive grief is not really a life. i get up and i breathe, sort of. i dedicate myself to work all day, long hours to try and get it all done so i can have some more money to try to get a foothold, only to have to be realistic and know i'll never catch a break. he was my break. being in his arms was my one break from the tragedy that is my life. he protected me. he carried me at times. he made me laugh. he loved me and there was nothing that felt greater. having his full attention on me made me feel whole. i felt alive.

i answered my own question. is this living or merely existing? he's gone. the one person who cared every minute of every day what i thought, what i felt; who sought me out and wanted my love, he died. so i'm not really alive. i'm existing right now, and for as long as this fear lasts, of dealing with the ex and his payback for the divorce by using his weapon of financial oppression, i can't grieve fully. i can't live. it's so hard and so lonely without him. my mantra isn't working anymore. i'll have to make up another one.

money. i need some. i'm supposed to get a thumb splint. i'll get food before i'll get that. new glasses. you have to shake your head and laugh sometimes, but it's a bitter laugh, hollow if it's audible. i'm out of Aleve. even cutting them in half i didn't make them last. damn. things i can only write about. could never say out loud.

i haven't been able to stay at the widow's meetings the last two times. if i speak, i don't think i'd be allowed to say it all. and if i got cut off, i'd be so embarrassed. i'd hang my head and weep. they'd think it was for him, but it would be for me.

no, i'm not living anymore. i died, i think, when he died. i saw my future without him and knew what it would be like. not pessimism. it was survival skills kicking in. i was being realistic. and it's played out exactly like i thought.

i miss him. i need him. there's so little left for me to work with. i'm tired and in physical pain. if i could just get some food and some Aleve in me. and that stupid splint. i tried it on. God, such relief.

well, pity party needs to end. i need to get back to work. it's only 10 PM. i can get in at least two more hours before i completely play out.

if you got this far, thanks for reading. i'll be okay. okay is better than not okay. i'm the Dragon's wife, after all. he never gave up. neither will i. i want him to smile at me.

settling in to depression

i've had to gather my thoughts about my daughter's wedding. the simplicity of them makes it harder to convey. i can't say, "i missed him," or "i am horribly ugly," or "i feel so alone" without explaining the magnitude of those words. everyone knows i miss him. no one knows that i feel ugly or why. they do know i feel alone but all believe that "this too shall pass."

it won't. nothing surrounding those three expressions will ever change. i think i'll take them one at a time and try to be brief though brevity is difficult.

1. "i missed him." i miss him. every day i wake to purgatory. no beautiful day, weather, event, or improved situation will alter that fact. i may smile, laugh, or seem animated in telling a story or memory, but i have merely stepped forward from behind the veil of sorrow that surrounds me. maybe someday there will be far less fabric to have to move aside to be truly seen. i do have moments of absolute clarity where i know that i can live with how badly i am feeling, but i also know how life is playing out. i miss him. right now i'm pathetic to see. so lonely, deeply grieving. i find i can talk too much when someone pays attention to me. i've been told that i need to tell my story of him again and again and yet i cannot find anyone who has the time. i miss him and no one compares to him. he is larger than life in the way he lived, how he looked, his character, his personality. no one can distract me from my adoration of him. he was too much of everything i ever wanted.

i miss him. i missed him. i am missing him. i always will be missing him.

2. "i am horribly ugly." my daughter and son know i feel this way. a widow from the group i attend was with me at the wedding during a moment of such absolute and overwhelming sorrow that i had had to hide myself away was caught off guard by the vehemence in my voice when i expressed this to her. it came tumbling out of my mouth between sobs. her standard response was, "you don't mean that." i snapped my head up and looked at her directly and said, "yes, i do. i am hideously ugly. and he's not here for me to see that i can be accepted as i am."

he, of course, would have been horrified to hear me say that. my Dragon would have been almost angry because he is the only one other than my daughter who knows where it comes from. forty plus years of being criticized modifies behavior. my Dragon was working with me to try to get me to see that though i am no Helen of Troy, i am his Helen. he loved the way i looked.

but he is not here anymore to defend me, even against myself.

my mother wanted me to look like Candace Bergen. i was close enough in my younger years for her to almost grasp the reality of this. but i failed. my ex started criticizing my looks when i got pregnant for the first time. "you're big." "you look awful." "are you having twins? what the hell? why do you look so big? why are your boobs getting so big?" after i had my children i did slim back down but then i didn't dress appropriately. "are you wearing that?" if i bought anything new, he would ask, "how much did that cost? why did you buy something? it's my money! you can't just go buy yourself a new blouse like that! not without permission!" so it was back to "why are you wearing that again? doesn't my mother deserve you to be better dressed than that?"

there was almost nothing left of me by the time i met my Dragon. i'm tired. i'm not grossly obese but i'm by no means a size zero. i have dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. and if you look into my eyes, you'll see stark terror, the accumulation of abuse over the decades, and the deep sadness of having had to say goodbye to a Dragon, my Dragon, of losing the finest man i'll ever know and the only one i'll ever want.

i'm ugly. both inside and out. i dislike people. i pretend they haven't hurt me. i am untrue to myself in that regard but i am not a confrontational person. i will never see myself again as i did when i saw myself in his eyes. Dragon's eyes. his smile that filled his Dragon's eyes is all i think about. and all i know is that i'm ugly without him.

3. "i feel so alone." i feel like i exist parallel to everyone else. i'm living. i'm here in full view but i am set apart. part of that is me pulling away. i can't afford to get hurt anymore. i have only the barest minimum left to work with here. i am struggling financially. destitute really. my ex-husband is doling out an allowance to me from the money he owes me that he withheld during the divorce because of it being "his money." i'm waiting on the government to process my Dragon's death benefits. "expect a 10 to 16 month waiting period." i make the quilts as fast as i humanly can and now that the wedding is over, i can fully concentrate on them but my son and ex tell me i'm not charging enough for all the work i put into them. "charge by the hour." then no one could afford me. "at least charge more for your quilts - double even if you can." i'm afraid to. i want the business. i need the business. what if no one will pay even half more? and yet i am fully aware that with all i put into the quilts, another quilter would charge so very much more.

i'm scared. i'm alone in these decisions. i know what my work is worth. i know what i charge is so i can acquire the assignment.

i'm terrified of the future. six months down the road. two years. six years. my ex did give me food money at the very end of the wedding. my daughter was so frustrated. when she left with her new husband, he had not given me the money but told her he would. she called from the road and he still had not and we were cleaning up after the reception. she called again later on when she had cell reception again to see if i had gotten food money and i had. i had had to draw him away to get it. he was pleasant. he was smiling. i had had to beg. he was happy. i was destroyed and miserable. i sold my soul for food.

i am alone.

that's as brief as i can be. my life hasn't turned pretty. it never came close. i never had a shot at a happily ever after except with my Dragon. and they took him away from me. they didn't see fit to let me have him for long. i got a taste of something so fine that i still have not found the words to describe it, even after all these posts. he was the most magical person. i can say that and you'll think, "well, of course she thinks that. she loved him deeply." but he was. he really was. he was the most magical person i've ever met or seen. people were naturally drawn to him. he was strong, appealing, and powerful. he had a aura that was visible and yet indefinable. he had survived so much war and he deserved such lasting peace. but i wanted that peace to be here on earth with me. at least for a while longer. 30 more years. was that too much to ask for? i just wanted 30 or 40 years with him. i wanted him so badly when we first met. i want him back so much.

i am glad my daughter's wedding is over. i felt so self conscious. a couple of remarks were made about my appearance. i was the only female at my own daughter's wedding who hadn't been to the beauty shop. i was the only one who didn't wear makeup. i worked like a dog through the whole thing. but she loved her day. she was blissfully happy with the small exception of her dad and the money, and missing our Dragon. everything was beautiful and exactly how she wanted it. she was so grateful. we hugged so tightly before she left.

it wasn't all i wanted for her but it was all i could swing. between using all my quilt money and begging her dad, i got her the wedding that she wanted simple though it was.

so this week, my son has promised to call more often. there are people i can call in an emergency. but for the most part, i will be very much alone. i won't be using my voice at all except to talk to my little Carmen Sophia and Scootie Wootums. my Scotties are happy to have me back here again full time. no more galavanting around for me. i'm housebound with no car and now no wedding to run errands for with my daughter. this week i won't get a day off. she's gone on her honeymoon and i'm very much alone for the first time since i got here. i'll walk to the library and to the grocery store monday with my fresh $100. i'll be relieved to be able to get quite a bit of food. in fact, i won't be able to carry it in one trip. i'll have to shop 2 days in a row to carry what i need back. i get tired of walking and carrying heavy stuff. it makes my hand and back hurt. but i need the walk to lose more weight and to "get out and get fresh air."

if it's possible, i miss him more than i ever did. i am settling into a deep depression that no pill can alter. this is grief defined harshly. this is something that has to be worked through in my heart and in my mind. i have to arrive at a place i will have to accept and become familiar with. i will be alone for the rest of my life.

time is moving forward and i'm crawling to keep up. but i keep looking back to the past and my memories of him. i keep looking off to the side, lost in my own little world where i am safe from remarks that hurt and i can pretend that he has just gone to the store. i keep looking forward, past anyone in my line of sight to see if i can see him waiting up there for me.

oh, please be waiting for me. i need to see that. i need to know that you are up there, my Dragon, my love. i'm so tired. i can't do this alone. i really can't. i'm the weak one. it should have been me.