i will follow you into the dark

i watched the movie, "Hachi," the other evening.  i knew in advance what it was about but i chose to continue on that path of plot awareness.  i needed to see loyalty.  i needed to be reminded that my dogs are probably {not} going to miss me like that, be that devoted to me, should i pass away before them.  {but i do pamper my soul; tell myself that they will sit and wait for me just like Hachi.

dogs can sense when death is approaching.  it is a natural thing for them.  they are not complicated like humans.  they accept what cannot be changed.

i accept, but i do cry over it.

in all the reading i've done since he died, i have not really fond one that explores the fear, wonder, worry, curiosity of what happens when we die, after we die.  where do we go?  it is based on faith or lack of it but really, i have been thinking of this off and on ever since i saw the life leave him.  doing CPR ocer someone, knowing you are losing, seeing/feeling them "go" marks you.  well, it marked me.

what is he doing right now?  what is he thinking?  is he happy?  is there an ocean?  is he on some cloud?  can he see me?  does he know that i am sobbing as i type this?  he is alert?  cognizant?  did he keep any memories of me?  is he with his dog?  has he told my dogs i still love them?

has he met my son who died?

is there light where he is?

or dark?  just dark and empty?

i believe in God.  but.

i don't know where he is or where i will go or if i will get to be with him and eventually my two beloved children.

will i lose myself when i die; the stuff that makes me me and so irritating to the masses, yet so interesting?  {<~ that interesting part is sarcasm}  but will the thoughts i think vanish when i die?  will i know him?  will he still like me and want to hang out with me?  will will we be able to find each other?

or will it be dark?

as a child i was never afraid of the dark.  i was afraid of what was in the dark.  i was afraid of my mother.  i was afraid of my brother.  i was afraid of Voldemort.  i was afraid of all the evil that lurks out there; like the DMV if they think you filled out a paper wrong.  {got a $50 for filling out a paper in correctly so when i went tot he DMV to pay the fine the woman said, "effing ridiculous.  most people ignore that paper and you tried.  so you checked a box wrong.  no, i'm not taking the fine.  here's a receipt.  keep it in your car."  i feel like a rebel.  i feel like an outlaw.  are they looking for me?  will they find me driving down 485 some night after work and pull me over; arrest me?  see?  i worry.}

i don't mind the dark.  you can see the stars at night.  you can see the moon.  the night breeze can be soft or wildly blowing leaves that crinkle and sound crisp, much like potato chips on a plate.

when i die, will i be okay, finally?  after all i've been through, will i be okay?  will i be safe?

when i die will there be that light and will i hear his voice?  will i feel that old familiar calloused roughness of his hand clasping mine, pulling me towards him, towards an eternity of love and safeness {i don't think that's a word but i'm crying and i don't care}?

i have written 3 books.  a friend of my daughter's is an English professor at a university.  she sent him a burned CD of one of my books.  he said he despised my ability to write as i do.  he told her he has tried to write like that all his life.  he also said i was, and i quote, "a shining golden god in a kingdom of mice, who is afraid of the mice."  he told her to tell me to get off my shy butt and start searching for a literary agent.  i don't know where to start searching or how to do it that my work won't get stolen.

so question, forget this life, what about the next?  will i lose my mind when i die?  will i lose everything?  will i close my eyes and there will be nothing?  will God forget me?  abandon me?  send me to Hell for the things i've thought?  wanted to do ~ the bad things like tell someone off?

there are times, God forgive me, when i sleep in on Sundays.  i hurt physically so badly, am so exhausted that i stay in bed.  i pray every day, but is that enough?  will He really accept my excuses?

or will He, seeing as i am not an entirely heinous person, just leave me to fumble around in the dark?

as long as i don't run into my mother, or my ex, or threats from the DMV, or people from work, maybe walking around an empty landscape in the dark for eternity will be my own kind of peace.

"if heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied, illuminate the NO's on their vacancy signs.  if there is no one beside you when your soul embarks, i will follow you into the dark."

 i'd like there to be light.  i'd like there to be snow in the Winter and warm Summer breezes.  i'd like the crinkly, potato chip sound of leaves falling in the Fall, and the smell of flowers and fresh cut grass in the Spring.  i'd like there to be an ocean with the water swelling over stones that sounds like the rattling of bones.

but if that is not what i have earned, then i will follow him.  into the light.  into the dark.  i will close my eyes here and start my search for him there.  and if that search takes an eternity, searching for my dogs, waiting for my children, calling out to him, i will at least be spending my eternity doing something.  my soul has a calling.  i want to be with my family and my dogs.

the scenes in the movie of Hachi's face as he aged, the whiteness of his fur as he got older and older, so magnificent.  the intentness in his eyes as he heard the whistle of the train and his steadfast gaze on the door as people spilled out.  and his sadness, his loneliness as he settled back down to wait for the man who would never come back was gut wrenchingly, poignantly beautiful.

people move on.  dogs can grieve forever.  the other day i called out for Carl.  and both my dogs leap off the bed and raced to the door of the apartment.  Carl has never been in this apartment, but they ran to meet him because i called out for him.  i felt like a dick.  they came racing back to bed and cuddled around me.  they laid across my legs as if to say, "we'll lay on top of her so she won't go away."

i don't want to suffer anymore.  i don't want any more pain.  i would like the afterlife to be peaceful and calm and surround by my children {eventually} and my dogs, and in his arms.  i want to hear his laugh again.  i want to walk with him again.

i want to die and then my soul soar to him and a few fuzzy faces who dance and race to meet me.  who lick my face and rub their noses against my skin.

i want to be met.  greeted.  even if i do follow everyone into the dark, at least we will all be together.

Christmas is Over ~ Butterflies

i am sad today. discombobulated. i feel hollow inside.

and blessed.

my handsome wonderful son came to spend one day with me. he got into town Monday, the 20th in time to pick me up from work. we spend Tuesday, the 21st, together with his sister {my lovely daughter}, and he just left to drive back to Florida. and i feel such heartache. and peace. i love my children. i love them so very much.
they are the best parts of who i was, who i never got to be, who i always wanted to be. i gave them all that i was and am, and i still do.

we have such little time to spend together. there are things i really want to get off my chest, maybe i will someday, but not today. i have to leave for work in an hour and all i want to do is tell you about how great these two people are. my daughter and my son.

"i almost wish we were butterflies that lived but three summer days. three such days with you i could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain." ~ John Keats.

i know he wrote that to the love of his life but my children are also the loves of my life. just as our Dragon was. is. always will be. my children are all i have left in this world. i wish my son lived closer. he is such a joy. so funny and interesting to talk to. such diverse interests.

i cannot believe the both of them are grown and yet, i am glad i got to be here for it.

it was so hard having to watch my son drive away. i walked him to his car. we hugged real tight. we both were a little teary. then we smiled and did the stiff upper lip. life is what it is. we will persevere in spite of it, or to spite it. we will see each other again. and there is always iChat.

but i did stare at the empty parking lot where his car had been for longer than was good for me.

i love my children. we got to have one day to spend together to have Christmas together. and now for me, Christmas is over. i will tell you what i am doing. i think i can type it and not cry. i am spending it alone, working on a quilt, eating what i want when i want and taking a nap maybe. i will watch movies, whatever is on. and hopefully my daughter can stop by later in the day, early evening, for a time, when she can break free. Christmas alone. i am not the first. i am not the only one. but it does feel horrible to know that i will be alone.

i will go to bed alone on the 24th, and wake alone on the 25th, and i will be alone all day until she can stop by. it feels wrong and yet, it is what has happened. there is nothing i can do to change it. but i will make it a good day. Christmas is over for me. i had it on the 21st with my son and daughter. but the meaning of Christmas will come on the 25th as it does every day. i will do my praying/meditating thing, whatever you choose to believe. and i will work and wait.
i got to see my son. i got to have my children together. the Three Musketeers were reunited for one day. the Fourth Musketeer could not come. he had to go on ahead. breaking trail for us to follow. that is the only way to think of it for if i did otherwise, i would never stop crying.

i love my children. i love my Dragon. our brief times together are worth their weight in gold.

butterflies. making the time together count.

down Bunny down ~ the therapist

Bunny is very down. this past weekend

and ALL this week she has suffered so. oh, God, is it really only Monday?

i had a wonderful telephone call from S. thank you. you read between the lines. i needed to talk. the Bun needed a voice from outside her head to say, "i see you out there. you're gonna be fine." thank you, sister.

i connected with a free grief therapist. yep, the Bun found someone who would talk to her for free through a hospice connection. Bunny sat there and unloaded all her hurts and fears, her doubts and her worries. she talked about missing the ocean and about Dragons and Bunnies and feeling lost. the therapist had Bunny get online and show her Bunny's FB page and this blog. Bunny told some dark, dark, hideously dark secrets and she tattled on other widows who have made her feel like....

CRAP

and it felt so good to let someone with a face know how she felt. the woman listened and jotted things down. {love the word "jotted"} but then she quit jotting and just listened. she told Bunny/me in the end that i was fine. she said i was healthy and doing very well for being so alone. then she emailed me this. elaborated her jotted notes i guess.

"I've been thinking some more. You're actually doing incredibly well. You can keep coming if you want, but you're healthy. You are handling your grief and your isolation in such a way that it is amazingly healthy. I don't recommend being alone the rest of your life and I hope someday you can get a car and go out some, but you are handling this really bad situation very well. You're doing great, in fact, for all the stuff you've been through. You were beaten down for years and years, abused, but then you found this very great love and was forced to suffer the loss of him. And for you, this was a deep, deep loss. Your story is really, well, it's a love story. I've read your blog and looked over your Facebook pages. I can feel the magic you and your husband shared. And your creativity is an enormous outlet for you. It also makes you suffer more than some because you are so very sensitive. You think very deeply, philosophically. I want you to allow yourself to continue to create. Use Bunny like you are. I see that it is a good thing for you. I see the person, the whimsy and sense of humor that you really have tucked deep down, being able to come out through Bunny. People are responding so positively to Bunny which should make you feel good because it really is you they are responding to. You have such a kind and empathetic soul. You have such creativity in you. You really are an artist. And, {insert Bunny's name here}, your husband was right. You really are an incredible person deep inside. You need to allow her to come out."

as if i could stop creating. i will stop creating when my poly-stuffed, bunny mind shuts down and that will happen when my heart up in Heaven in my Dragon's keeping stops beating, letting him know it is time for him to come get me. can you just grab that image? my beating heart sitting in a bowl or on a paper towel on the table beside where my Dragon sits in the evening in Heaven. or he has it stuffed in the pocket of his jeans like his car keys.

thud. thud. thud. "Dragon, what's that sound?"

"my wife's heart."

"why in Heaven's name do you have it?"

"she gave it to me. it's like an alarm clock in reverse. when it stops, i can go met up with her."

"how ingenious. love it. good work, you two. well, have a peaceful wait for her."

"thank you. i'm just going to sit here by the ocean. she'll be ready at some point and if i wait here, i'll be close by."

so Bunny is fine. i know. SHOCKER. or plot twist. even though she's got this black tread mark on her bunny body where life has run over her, she is fine. she feels down, but down is normal. down is fine. she feels sad, but she suffered a great loss. the Bun is being creative and that is a big check mark on the good side of grief.

at least she has her new camera and it feels so at home in her fuzzy little paw; her limp, tired, wet-from-wiping-her-teary-little-button-eyes paw.

A-boom boom ba
A-boom boom ba
A-boom boom ba
A-boom boom ba

Can you hear my heart beat in this bond
Do you know that behind of this bond
Lies the deep desire I'm in love hey
Make a wonderful love if I may
All my dreams to be all I can do
Only I love, only love
And you say I knew we should find a new way
Make a wonderful love if I may

Can you hear my heart beat in this hurt
Do you know that behind of this hurt
Lies the deep desire I'm in love hey
Make a wonderful love if I may
All my dreams to be all I can do
Only I love, only love
And you say I knew we should find a new way
Make a wonderful love if I may

Can you hear my heart beat in this hurt
Do you know that behind of this hurt
Lies the deep desire can you love hey
Make a wonderful love if I may

Make a wonderful love if I may
Make a wonderful love if I may
Can you hear my heart beat in this hurt
Can you hear my heart beat in this hurt

bag for E ~ Voldemort ~ angel wings

i have commission work. a lot right now and i am grateful for it. it will keep me from haunting space out here and justify my existence while he is gone. he gave the world a whole lot more than i ever did or ever will, but he deserves the rest.

E. gave me two t-shirts and wanted bags made from them. here is the first. i matched the color of "life is crap" with floss and embroidered over it for her. it is now a tiny tactile experience, and if she scotch guards the h*ll out of the bag, it should be okay. i cannibalized a pair of jeans for it to make it sturdy and bought some flower ribbon to make the straps pretty. Bunny was happy to pose with it.
for a photo of the other side which was the back of the t-shirt, Bunny jumped in the bag to test its strength. happily, the bag holds Bunny nicely.

Voldemort flies in late tonight for the big hooey talk he wants in the morning. i guess he did not get the visual satisfaction of seeing me act submissive during this latest flurry of phone calls. he wants to "tell you (me) how it's going to be from now on." i have no idea what "it's going to be from now on" means but it is all too familiar terrain. they say you go around to familiar terrain in grief, and i have found that to be true, but an idiot can also make you revisit his favorite areas. it is complicated but i have to go. i have to sit and be talked down to. i have to look down and bob my head like a moron to keep him from sliding off the rails. he'll get all puffed up and preen. he will be happy he has demeaned me and then he will leave. if it doesn't threaten my children or me, i will let it go in one ear and out the other. then i will go inside and get back to work.

i just get tired. i also get keyed up with anxiety until i know for sure what bug has crawled up his butt. maybe i will put a bug on Bunny and send her. she is pretty quiet and i am not allowed to talk during these sessions. he may not know the difference since he gets fairly pompous during one of these meetings. his eyes kind of glaze over with self-importance. i am tired of life and do not feel very strong at all. right now, the power is all on his side. but i hope for a day........

hopefully one day i will be free of him again like i was when my Dragon was alive. i had to talk to him about the children. at that time my daughter was hiding from him so i had to keep jumping up and down like a fool with bells on to distract him from looking too hard for her. but during those years i had my Dragon standing beside me, just a little in front, with his arms crossed over his chest and that look on his face that said, "please do something so i can do something." my Dragon made me feel safe, like i never had been before.

ah, the good old days. well, by noon tomorrow it will all be over and Voldemort will be back on a plane to go home to his big house on the Piscataqua River for his Labor Day weekend extravaganza. i will be grateful he is gone.

but i think, i hope, it will be okay. i may be grabbing at signs but there were these clouds this morning.

i was a nervous wreck after his phone call telling me what to do. afterwards, i had to take the dogs out and there was this huge set of what i thought of as angel wings. maybe. i saw it that way.
anyway, however you see it, angel wings or cirrus clouds, i am trying to find hope that it is all going to be okay some day. one day, i will be free.

i do miss my Dragon though. somedays it gets so very hard and i get so very scared.

only in my mind....

i read somewhere that only in our minds are we truly free. that is where i have always gone to find release from the life i was having to deal with. it is where i go now when i am faced with awful things that i can do nothing about.

it is worthy of note that i never had to close my eyes and fantasize about being free when i was with him.

two weeks ago my tooth split vertically up into the gum. the dentist said it was one he had worked on less than 6 months ago. he is charging me $1745 for a crown. that's what he said. we're doing a crown. the quick and ugly turns out that he forgot to tell me i required oral surgery. i found out about the surgery when he started stitching my gum. it is going to take 3 months of eating only jello, pasta, soups, oatmeal, and a few other very soft foods cut into small bites eaten on the other side of my mouth before i will be healed enough to be given a crown. he promised i would have it the week before Camp Widow. so i can eat, he said.

it's been hard. i've been very hungry even after i eat because i cannot eat a complete meal. my jaw gets tired.

i make quilts out of clothes of people who have died. a woman put a link to the Facebook photo album of my work to try and help me. her brief words were gracious. unfortunately i have been deluged with messages from women who think i am "feeding off the dead." that i am "profiting from people who are deeply grieving." that i should "teach how to do this at Camp Widow so people don't have to trust you." that i should "make them like that rag quilt place does - just some squares so you don't have to charge as much as you do."

somewhere along this wretched path people have gotten the idea i am from Nigeria or currently living in Nigeria. i can assure you that i live in the United States.

the messages that i have gotten have ranged from coercive to my teaching so i do not "bilk the bereaved" to hateful and saying i will surely go to Hell. i have done what my infuriated children and my husband's friend have said i should do. delete them all.

and i have. but the feeling of being whittled away lasts. like that awful thing said and one hopes no one heard, but then the echo comes around and you've heard it again. how many people have chatted each other up and condemned me for trying to make a living? yes, i charge for the quilts. the most largest and most expensive one i did was 9 feet by 10.5 feet. it had several - several - embroidered sentences and two hoodies for the little girl to be able to wear. i charged over $700 but under $800. i had only two and a half months to do it in. she had a special deadline. i worked upwards of 16 hours a day and met the deadline. i made $2.40 an hour.

i am crushed. there is nothing i can do. i have to keep my head up and try and remember that the people who have their quilts did not feel over-charged. i believe they really like their quilts. i think they do. no one has asked for their money back.

so i guess that leaves me with living inside my mind when i feel this hurt which is most of the time right now. i know it will pass. it will all go away and i will be forgotten which is not as pleasing as it sounds since i need word of mouth to let people know i am here and can make the quilts. tangible solace. or so i thought. it never occurred to me i could be viewed as a vulture.

maybe i should change my brochures. add a tag line.

RenaissanceArtist

Quilts and other Textile Art

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

it is the middle of the afternoon. i have had lunch. i had a grilled cheese cut into very small pieces. i am hungry again. or still. i can't tell anymore. i posted a response to the letters on my Facebook page. some people have put up some nice comments. i made sure i thanked them.

i am going to get an iced tea and maybe try to eat some goldfish crackers. if you leave them on your tongue they get soft. then i am going back to work on a quilt.

so i guess things are fine here for me, a profiteer of death living in Nigeria.

while i sew i think i'll disappear into my mind. it's the only place where everything works out. it is the only place where i am wild and free.

the death of kickass bunny

this morning, something terrible happened that i simply cannot shake. i am writing about it to try to let some of it go.

there was a bunny who lived in the stand of trees across from my apartment. when i first noticed him, i always walked my dogs away from him (or her) and spoke softly to him. i gave him his part of the yard because i love him. he is so handsome. he guarded a tree directly across from my balcony and one day i saw this phenomenal act of nature. i caught it as a series of photos and that is when i named him "kickass bunny."

there was this standoff. i could see kickass bunny trembling, but he held the crow's stare with a steely one of his own.

he countered every move the crow made. kickass bunny was not going to back down.

then i watched the big chase. every action film has one. reality proved no less action packed.

kickass bunny gave no ground and kept after that crow until it flew away. i was so relieved.

day after day i watched over kickass bunny. i even alerted the front office to tell the yard men to be careful when they mowed. and they were. i was thrilled after they left to see kickass bunny bounding back out in the yard.

we had this relationship, imagined on my part. i felt he had gotten used to me and my dogs. i never let them bark at him. we always gave him a wide berth. he was kickass bunny and he deserved the respect of distance. he had grown used to me, i felt. he had stopped cowering and had started raising himself up on his back legs to see me. his ears would move forward as if he were curious about me but not afraid. his little nose would twitch just a little bit. he never seemed nervous when i was around. and so i fell in love with kickass bunny.

this morning, two dogs off leash with no owner in sight targeted my little kickass bunny. they worked in tandem and killed him. i heard his scream. i will never forget that sound. i saw the dogs trotting off into the woods, one of them carrying his limp bunny body in its mouth.

i have been crying off and on all day. i will never see his little head pop up out of the grass again. he is gone. he died in terror. i know. it is nature. dogs will be dogs. but there is a leash law here and i cannot stop myself from viciously thinking that if those dogs had been on a leash, my kickass bunny would be settling in for the night tonight. and i would see him in the morning. it is a stupid thing to be upset over, but it was that scream. such a soul-wrenching sound from a silent little bunny.

i let myself get attached. but it isn't as if he died of natural causes, or just disappeared one day to never return. i saw it happen and it was pointless. i am angry about it and so very upset.

i will miss you so very much, kickass bunny. i think i am crying over you because, well, to be perfectly honest, i sort of thought maybe my Dragon had shown up in bunny form to come check on me. like my own personal version of "To Dance With The White Dog."

i love you, kickass bunny. i will never forget you.

and then there was one

this island is off our cove. it has a name but my Dragon and i named it Isla (insert the Spanish of my name here). we always wanted to try to buy it from the Audobon Society since they never took care of it. the Coast Guard never maintained the lighthouse anymore either. there are unremarkably electronic bouys floating in the water for that now. since my Dragon has died, the island is being given away to anyone who will rebuild, maintain, and commit to live there for at least five years, but they'd love eight. they want daily readings on weather and bird activity. a simple observation of some science data typed into a computer every day. damn it all to Hell. we would have done that in a heartbeat. i am crush and somewhere my Dragon is roaring in frustration.

"man was born to live, to suffer, and to die and what befalls him is a tragic lot, but we must, dear Fox, deny it all along the way." ~ Thomas Wolfe

it sounds like good advice but what it is, is avoidance. i can no more deny that my Dragon has died than i can deny the pain that i am living with because of it. i am alone. i have to deal with the fact that he is gone every minute of every day. and every night.

i was born alone. i did the best to get by as quietly as i could. i was never a noisy person. it was a particular skill of mine to be able to go undetected through a gathering, a room, my life. in certain social situations, i can raise reticence to an art form. but i have always been able to write. i just never say it out loud. writing is a solitary journey of which i am very much at home.

in time, though, i became the mother of two children. the Three Musketeers. i was Athos, the one who carried the hidden sorrow, the melancholy one who took care of the younger two. but then a fourth came to join us, a Dragon; a seasoned veteran to lead us, to guide us, whose boot was the last one left standing in the dirt after we three had entered the safety of the house. it was the Dragon who always closed and locked the door.

the two younger Musketeers grew up and left on quests of their own, to start their own lives. it was me and my Dragon left in our home by the ocean. we were wrapped up in each other. we are each other's best friend, confidant, lover.

the February moon was full. it was four below outside but the Dragon and i were warm in our room. we had finished our pre-bed rituals and the lights were out. there was our kiss, slow, heartfelt. i had a slight headache and the Dragon was tired. i settled my head on his shoulder. my fingers were laced in his hand.

"i love you. good night."

"i love you, too."

i had no idea those would be our final words. seven minutes was all it took to bring my Dragon down.

and then there was one.

how empty my life is now that the Dragon has passed. while living, oh, Lord, you have to believe me, he was larger than life. his stories of his exploits as a warrior were the stuff of legends. he'd shake his head and blush at my awe at his abilities, but his life story is truly incredible. and he always came home to me. now that he isn't here to temper my hero-worship, he has become mythic.

i am separated from him by something i cannot understand. i am depressed. i sew. i try to sleep. it's always fitful and i wake up exhausted. and then i sew. if i didn't have the sewing, i think i would sleep for 22 hours a day.

i think of him. all the time. but i cannot "deny it all along the way." he has died and i have to deal with it, even though i am beside myself, even though i am devastated.

but maybe tonight i will fall asleep a little sooner than i usually do. maybe my Dragon of a man will come visit me. if i dream i can forget. for a little while i am not alone.

forgetting for a while isn't the same thing as denying the truth of what's happened.

{no one has accepted the terms of living on the island. it's too austere. it's too lonely. for me and the Dragon, it's perfect. for me alone, it's too dangerous. with good sense, the terms demand it be two people, no children under the age of 17.}

inflatable duck while waiting for the Tylenol PM to kick in....

i'm waiting for the Tylenol PM to kick in but i think i'm getting immune or i waited until the pain in my knees and my hand was too far along.

i woke the dogs with my picture taking. they were so sound asleep. bless their hearts. i woke them up. i think they're worried about me. my sleep patterns have been disrupted since February 9th, that awful night. i can see a full moon coming on again. it's almost 8 months.

Carmen Sophia was perturbed by the flash.

Scootie Wootums had something to say about it. i stopped bothering them and found this duck. i do wish i had this duck. maybe i could sleep on his back.

he has a nice smile, a calm countenance. i bet he'd listen to my woes and never judge. ah well, maybe the Tylenol PM is finally kicking in. i hope someone liked my puppies and this duck. i hope i can sleep a little tonight.

i hope he comes to me in my dreams. a Dragon with moonlight-colored hair and a soft beard. i would sleep for a long time if only i could feel his arms around me ~~~~~~ just once more.

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.

interrupting my hiatus to bring you this poem

it's almost here. the wedding that has taken all my time and thoughts these last almost 2 weeks. i've been dreaming of my Dragon and missing him a lot, too much. i feel his absence more as the wedding draws closer. i'm back to not sleeping and i feel tired. so i write on any piece of paper i find by the bed so i don't have to get up.

i wrote this. it's a completely, fall down on my knees, self pity poem where every thought shines the light on how great he is - how great he was - is - was. i have no idea anymore. just because he isn't here doesn't mean he stopped being who he was - is - was. past tense is just so hard to admit to. i'm in sad shape.

when the Dragon smiled

she always returned with one of her own

but always in complete awe of his.

when the Dragon laughed

she delighted in the sound

that he shared only with her.

when the Dragon was deep in thought

she studied his face, his lines, his strength

and hoped his thoughts were of her.

when the Dragon spoke

she listened to his tone, his words,

and she fell in love all over again.

when the Dragon slept

she kept vigil with a quiet hand on his chest

and was calmed by the steady beats and his breath.

when the Dragon loved her

she believed in the forever she found

in his great arms and gentle eyes.

and when the Dragon died

she saw her world torn apart

and her soul left without it's other half.

as time has gone on, without her Dragon

she has been felled with the burden of carrying on

while missing her Dragon, wanting him, loving him.

and now, back to the wedding.

very rough spell

i'm going through what my grandmother used to refer to as a "rough spell." it was used in her day for any time when a family or person was having a hard time due either to financial hardships, ill health, or grief. i've got two out of the three. i am having a hard time financially but that is just something to endure and keep working my backside off to cope with. the worst is the grief.

i don't know if i was ever actually doing "better" in the six months since my husband died but i know i am definitely doing a bit worse. i am having a very difficult time vocalizing my feelings because i look at someone and can't say it. here i am alone and can write it. it's not my voice but my heart that is saying it and there is no one for me to look at and feel any kind of connection to start the tears.

i'm crying all the time again. it's been 6 months. his birthday is Aug. 5th. he would have been 57. Aug. 11th is our wedding anniversary. it is also the anniversary of our first date. together 8 years, married for 7 years. only 8 years with a man to whom i gave my whole heart and soul. i would have given my life for him but i wasn't given the option.

i'm planning my daughter's wedding and i'm trying hard to feel happy, but i cannot right now. maybe on the actual day i will feel something other than this deep intense grief. for the short time that i get to actually be with my daughter making plans, fitting her to her dress and veil, going with her to pick up the fabrics, ribbon, and things she wants, i can fake it. i swallow hard and tell myself she is my little love and very much deserves a mom who is all there and doesn't unload on her. it can wait. she knows though. she knows that i'm hurting and she's been so good. i try to make her laugh which is easy to do. i am a very good liar. always have been.

i lied to my children when they were little about why their dad didn't seem to like mom. i lied to myself that i could take it one more week, one more day, let the kids get a little older. i lied to him to save myself from harsher beratings. and now i'm sort of lying to my children about how i'm feeling inside. maybe if i lie enough even i'll start to believe it but i don't think so. all i have to do is look at his picture, see his smile, the laughter in his eyes, and his broad back in the photos where he's walking ahead of me and i crumble.

crumble is the perfect word.

"i sat evaluating myself. i decided to lie down." i'm not sure where i read that but i was still in junior high school and i remember it was during the summer of love - '68. i think it was the poet Rod McKuen. whomever wrote it, it also fits my mood perfectly.

intense grief has taken over again and all i want to do is lay down and cry. i miss him so.

"oh, come through the darkness and save me

for i am alone."

3 AM

i've been trying to sleep. i can't. obviously. i miss him. i miss him lying beside me. when i had bouts of insomnia i could sneak and hold his hand, or snuggle up against him and smell his skin, feel his warmth, listen to his breathing, and see the rise and fall of his chest in the soft light of the nightlight. his hand would always squeeze mine to let me know he knew i needed him. sometimes he would sleepily whisper, "you okay?" i'd kiss his shoulder and whisper, "yeah." there would be a soft smile that played out over his lips and he would settle back into his deep sleep. i would be reassured. i would be able to fall asleep.

i love him so much. i still cry everyday. one week shy of 6 months and i cry everyday. i have trouble sleeping.

i have my work, the Memory Quilts. i am busy helping my daughter with her wedding. i've got sewing up the wazoo to do. busy days. tired at the end. i have a new friend. she called tonight and we made plans to go out to dinner tomorrow....well, tonight. i'm looking forward to that.

but i love him so much i ache. my heart cries out his name. sometimes i can't not say his name out loud. my dogs look at me. they know that name. they recognize the longing i am feeling, the unrest.

it's 3 AM and i'm up writing yet wishing i was reaching for his hand, smelling his neck and feeling his smile at the eccentric behavior. i loved his smell. right at the curve of his neck to his shoulder. he could have showered with the most flowery soap and yet still smell like the woods or Old Spice or something. he always smelled so good. i'm wishing i could see his chest rise and fall. feel him turn to me and wrap his arms around me, or if his back was to me and he didn't want to change positions, pull my arm around him and hold my hand in his. i'd lay my head against his back and hear his heart beat.

he had the strongest heartbeat. until it gave out that night 5 months and 3 weeks ago tonight.

my heart is crying out for him tonight. i wouldn't mind being back in our old, old house in Rockport by Whale Cove with a cold wind blowing outside and him on the sofa where he liked to recline while watching television. i'd sit in my chair beside him sewing, and sneaking pictures of him until he told me to put the camera down and come lay with him. there on that sofa, while he watched television, in his arms, my head on his strong chest, there i could sleep.

i am going to go back to bed and close my eyes and lie to myself that that is where i am. then maybe i'll get a little bit of sleep.