how did i get here?

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

Thursday, January 19, 2012

happy, happy, joy, joy ~ Hope

someone had the audacity to write to Bunny to tell her that she, oh, Lordy Lord, she's gonna put this in quotes:

"you are resistant to joy, real joy, the joy that can be had when your partner dies and you are now free to be the woman you were meant to be in the first place."

Bunny's first thought was like, "oh, wow, i guess her marriage wasn't that good." but that's judging, just like this person was doing to Bunny.

it's an interesting thought though. being the person you were "meant to be?" like Bunny was run down like some wild creature, captured, and married to her Dragon against her will. like her Dragon oppressed her and suppressed her and kept her from being what she was meant to be. that was Bunny's first marriage.

silly woman. doesn't she know? hasn't she read Bunny's blog thoroughly? Dragon was AWESOME. <~ said in a sing song little voice.

and since his death, Bunny has been doing happy.
look at that picture up there. see that flower? hyacinth. Bunny was happy to buy it. crazy Bunny spending her hard earned $4.99 on that little glass vase. hopeful Bunny that her little flower will bloom. see? happy and hopeful.

Bunny is doing alright. she has her moments. she writes it out. that silly woman has never met Bunny. heck, she's never even see a photo of the real Bunny, me, to see her eyes, what's in them, and what isn't.

so maybe there isn't this exuberant, jumping up and down, joyful, joyful, we adore Thee bounding up and down the street like a big golden retriever excited at the thought of a frisbee toss, kind of joy to Bunny...
but...
Bunny does alright for herself.

so far she's made it all by herself,

and with a little help from her friends.

Bunny has her work at Build-A-Bear where she is the tippy top Party Bear/Bunny.
she goes back to her place where she has her drawings and sketches of things she wants to make.
she has her puppies! the lovely and diva-ish Carmen Sophia and the inscrutable but winsome Scootie Wootums.
and yes, she has her Dragon. her lovely, lovely Dragon who sits in her heart and her head. the one who gave her joy. the one whose only compression was when he laid on top of Bunny and she loved those times. {oh, my gosh. Bunny made a cryptic reference to sex. yes, Bunny loved her compression times with Dragon. ooooo la la. he was very, hmm, talented. there that's a PG word.}
Bunny is happy. Bunny has found equilibrium. Bunny is not just going through the motions. Bunny has friends she hopes some day to go visit. like in Arizona. Bunny hasn't seen Arizona since she was in college. and San Diego. and Canada. and England. oooo. Bunny will need a Pawsport for that one.

love to all my friends. love to my children and my fuzzy kids. love to my Dragon. and yes, a little love to me. don't get all down on Bunny just because she hasn't started a foundation or written a book or gone for the Gold Ring of Grief. Bunny isn't a Phoenix. she's a Bunny. she's doing it her way. she's got her earbuds in and listening to her own music. sometimes it's sad. sometimes it's happy. but joy? Bunny knows she will have joy again when she's with her soulmate again. fingers crossed.

peace, ............ and quiet. peace and quiet. yeah. you characters out there who seem to think it is your duty to correct Bunny, stop it. Bunny is doing fine.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

birthday Bunny

it's my birthday tomorrow. i'm working. my last day off was last Monday. my next day off is a week from this Tuesday. i'm a little tired. scratch that. i'm really pretty tired. i work at work and come back here and work.

it's my daughter's birthday, too, and she has off for it. i'm going to miss seeing her, but i'm glad she gets the day off. we both work hard. my daughter gave me a gift. i love it. it's a small aquarium tank so i can grow plants underwater. my own tiny ocean. i gave her a gift. a Build-A-Bear, of course. so sad that i can't do more for her.

i don't feel one way or the other about my birthday. it's just another day. i don't celebrate it. it's just another day that i work. i worked on my birthday last year. the others take their day off but i do not feel like i can or should. money is money and i need every cent.

i finished another quilt and have started on the next. i am waiting for the woman to send me the address she wants me to mail the quilt to. i am also waiting for her to send me the balance due on this quilt and the deposit for the next. waiting. waiting. she's busy though. she works 2 - 3 days a week and then travels the rest. whenever she has the time, i'd like to get that check though. it would mean the world to me. it's a mere drop in the bucket to her. sadly though, it means i worked for about a $1 an hour on her quilt. lots and lots of embroidery.

i sometimes do not think anyone has any idea ~ even though i tell them, even though they see the finished product ~ how much time it takes to do everything by hand, to make the kind of quilts i make.

i have had people show photos of other quilts they have had made while they wait for one of mine. they have sent clothes to some place that cuts them all up into squares, and triangles to make squares, that run them up on sewing machines and get them out in about 3 weeks. months later i am still hand embroidering very detailed work. i see those photos of those quilts and i admit it, i do suffer a blow to my heart.

i have things i'd like to make for myself and for my children. but i put commissions above my own personal work.

i miss him more and more. that sounds like i am not getting over this, or dealing with it well. in a way i'm not. i'm suffering. but in my defense, i get confronted with suffering and grief on almost a daily basis. New Year's Eve ~ the little girl who didn't want to die that night. she didn't die. she did 5 days later. yesterday ~ the man and his daughter's who came into the store to buy a new bear for his wife, their mother. his wife is in a coma in a bed in their living room which is now her bedroom. if you ask this man, he is most definitely raising his daughters with his wife. he is not a single parent. the girls talk to their mom all the time. they show her things they've made. she is very much a part of their lives. she likes to hold bears. her arm curls around them when they place them next to her. the doctors say she is in there somewhere. she could awaken at any time. any time has been about 11 years now.

i make animals and do heart ceremonies for death. i am the one they come to because they've heard i do it so very personally. they know i will honor the purpose for the stuffed animal. it's hard for me to get around my own grief when i see others grieving so deeply. it keeps it all fresh for me. i never interrupt their stories with my own. no one knows why i can connect to them. they just accept that i am a "sensitive soul." everyone has a calling. i guess this is what i am supposed to do. i had hoped it would be one of more frivolity but, que sara sara.

{i'd like to interrupt this blog with an update. i have camera again. in fact, i have two. Sandy sent me her old camera as a gift. such a beautiful digital. i use it now for all my sky shots. i feel that is what it's for as it traveled miles and miles in saddle bags with Sandy and her beloved. Dan sent me half funds for a new camera from B&H. i had ordered it and it was on it's way when Sandy sent me hers. the new camera is what i use for the moon. it is 14X zoom so, i think, you can almost see my Dragon on the moon up there. anyway, i want to sincerely and humbly thank both Sandy and Dan for helping me get a camera back into my hands. i find that life is gentler when i can take a photo of it.}

i miss my Dragon. i wish he were here with me. not to be cocky, but after watching her on "Inside the Actor's Studio," i think i am sort of like Betty White. she talked about her work as a actress. she talked about her passion working with animals. her answer to the question "what do you want God to say to you when you get to Heaven?" was this: "come on in, Betty. here's Alan." her husband Alan has been gone for a little over 30 years. she said in an interview, "i'm killing time until i see him again by living."


that's what i hope my children see me doing; living. i am living but missing him. i am living by helping others make stuffed animals. i put my heart and soul into them so that these people will see a heart and soul in their animal.

i miss him. it's my birthday and once again, i am alone through it. no party. no hugs and kisses. no going to bed with him. just another day of work.

it's my birthday tomorrow and it doesn't mean anything to me at all. {well, i guess it does a little since i wrote about it.}
Bunny's gotta get to work. she's all dressed for a birthday party she's been requested to do for a gay man who is turning 21. he promised me he is coming in full drag with 10 of his closest friends. it's going to be a blast. finally, Bunny's going to have some fun today celebrating someone else's birthday.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

observations of human behavior from someone who doesn't really matter

or maybe I do. this could also be observations of my own behavior by what i choose to write here. our ways of communicating also reveal a lot about who we are.

i am privy to behavior and conversations that others might not have an opportunity to witness. i get to see stuff that you most likely won’t believe, but here goes anyway.

children’s names

when we talk to the children who come through, of course we ask them their names. there are always new trends in what to name a baby, but there are some names that i wonder about. that’s all. i just wonder about what the parents were thinking when they chose that name. what was their inspiration? the ones i am mentioning below are ones that i have seen more than ten times, because to see them once is only an anomaly. to see them more than 10 times could be construed as a trend.

there are the usual celebrity names, or variations thereof, from film, music, and books such as: Beyonce, Kanye, Pitt, Angiejolie, Cruise, Beckham, Witherspoon, Jolie, Paris, Clooney, Suri, Apple, Lestat, Harry, Hermoine, Bella, Edward, Cullen, Forks {i asked. it is, indeed, from the Twilight series}, Hedwig, and so on. one odd one that sticks out is Kardashian. when i smiled at one mother and said, “So you’re a fan of their shows?” she gushed, “Oh, my God, yes, and I thought we’d be the only one but there are 4 other girls named Kardashian in her pre-school.” She was very sad over this. And why she included herself in any reactions to her daughter’s name, such as praise, envy or scorn, with the word “we’d” was a little confusing.

There are the names that honor an ideal or a moral. Names like: Truth, Faith, Grace, Love, Solidarity, Journey, Sojourner, Loyal, Path, Abundance, and Thanks.

States and cities are also a favorite way to name children more and more. Boston, Austin, Dakota, Colorado, Texas, Wichita, Houston, Boise, Seattle, Mystic, to name a few.

Parents often did and still do pull names from the Bible, too. Genesis, Exodus, Psalms, Isaiah, Ezekiel, Zechariah, but there have been quite a few children who have come through with the name Revelations that eerily stand out a bit. One child named Revelations was a distantly cold child who flat out told me I was going straight to Hell for being the in the cult called Catholism.

There is the trend to name children after a favorite pastime. One such family had four boys and one girl. Remington, Magnum, Colt, Smith, and the girl was named Gunner. They were hunters. There was a mother who brought in her daughters Dolce, Coco, and Vanderbilt who had her latest edition of “W” magazine in her Burkin Bag.

Then there are the names that sort of escape me. There have only been one of each of these but they were so unusual that they stuck in my mind. Hardwick, Pessel, Trahorn, Alboom, Fillup, and Female; this last one being pronounced Fem-a-lee. I try very hard not to ask to many questions about the names but sometimes, sometimes I do wonder.

Parenting Styles

I know I have written of parents sending out mixed signals, giving the example of self-entitlement, and using mind murder to gain the upper hand with their children, but it never ceases to be interesting how parents handle their children. I often wonder what kind of adults these children will be after being raised like this. Most of these examples go beyond a random bad day. These behaviors seem coded into the parents who are coding them into the children.

A woman with a ten-year-old daughter came into the store. The overweight daughter was holding a waffle cone basket of ice cream. It had three scoops, toppings, sprinkles, and whipped cream. I would never have used the word overweight to describe this child because of the insensitivity of it, but it comes from listening to their conversations being carried out right not even four feet in front of me.

Mom: “The doctor said you need to lose 75 pounds. Why I let you talk me into that ice cream boat is beyond me.” To me she said, “We’ve just stopped in the mall to get a bite to eat. We’ve come back from the doctor. We’re just looking real quick. She needs a little treat after the doctor’s visit.”

The girl selected a bear to stuff. “I want this one. Stuff it.” She tossed it at me with one hand and went right back to eating.

Mom: “Don’t act that way! Oh, my God, how rude! No bear. We’re not buying anything.”

Girl: “I want it. If you want me to go back to school then buy it for me.” There was no hesitation in the daughter’s voice, no cajoling, no pleading. She was confident she was getting what she wanted. My guess from all her brief years on this Earth of getting her way.

Mom: “I shouldn’t be doing this, but okay; but just the bear. No clothes.”

We both know where this is going. The mother spent over $130 on clothes, shoes, and accessories for this bear with the daughter eating the ice cream the whole time. She continued to order me around while ignoring her mother that she was being rude to me. Her mother also kept up her mantra, “I shouldn’t let you do this, so this is the last thing.”

As they left the store the daughter turned right while the mother went left.

Mom: “The car is this way.”

Girl: “Disney store and the food court is down this way.”

Mom wheeled around and followed in her daughter’s wake. I heard her voice getting smaller as they walked away, “I shouldn’t be doing this, so this is absolutely the last thing you get today.”

I have stood by and listened to children call their mother’s or father’s stupid, ridiculous, morons, and the horrific word, “retard.” I have heard children accuse their parents of lying saying, “You told me you were broke but you bought that medicine for {insert name of sibling}. I want this now so get it for me.”

I have seen older children, in the 12 – 15 age bracket that distain the whole experience in the store yet demand to get whatever they want. They say things like, “This place is stupid.” “I’m not putting a heart inside my bear. That’s dumb.” “This bear is stupid.” “I’m gonna take this bear home and kill it. What do you think about that?”

To the child who wanted to murder her bear I merely looked at them for a long moment with full eye contact, and said, “I think that you’re feeling very sad inside. I feel sorry for you. I hope you get better soon.”

I have stood at the register and had children slam their hands on the desk screaming at the top of their lungs because they wanted something else. I’ve had them grab things and stuff them in their bags and run out of the store trying to steal it right in front of their parents believing {most of the time correctly} that the parents will have to buy what they want. I have had bored children who are getting every single thing they want order me to “hurry up because I have somewhere I have to be. Give me the f-ing bag now!” Or the one that makes me truly grit my teeth: “Get a move on, Lady. I want it now!”

In these few select cases that I have chosen to share here, none of the parents held their children accountable at the moment of this behavior.

Children All Grown Up ~ Both Kinds

There are children who act very grown up; too grown up. There are pre-teen little girls dressed very provocatively who are hanging out with boys much too old for them. Not sixteen, not fifteen, but eleven and twelve-year olds who are trying so very hard to act eighteen and nineteen. And they boys they are with are sixteen and seventeen. These girls are not annoying little sisters. They are the “girlfriends” of these boys whose arms are draped around their small shoulders and whose hands touch them in places here in public that they should not be touching at all. I have asked one of the mall cops if he has observed this behavior and he said that he had. He is a retired New York City policeman who works there at the mall. He said their behavior is one that worries him but he cannot do anything since they are not doing anything. It is a parenting issue until it becomes a police issue. By then the parents, I think, will be either wishing they had parented a little more or they will be blaming someone else.

Boys come through the store who do little things, odd, quirky things that stick in my mind. They steal hearts. We have soft little satin hearts that we put in our animals freely when you stuff and buy them. There are some girls that do this but I mostly see boys do it. They walk quietly up to the bin and reach in and steal handfuls of them. When I say, “Would you like a heart,” implying I would let them maybe take one, they dash off with their handfuls. Their parents seldom make them put them back.

Boys from the ages of around five or six on up to older boys in their late teens and very early twenties do something that, I must admit, sort of gets to me. I never say anything to the guest but we have talked about it after work. We have underwear for both genders of bears. If you want a little girl bear and you put a dress on her, you can also put on a little pair of panties. We have cotton ones, satin ones, one with Hello Kitty on them. Very pretty. These boys pick up the underwear and sniff them. You read that right. They pick up the underwear and hold them to their noses. The older boys do it as a pack and laugh then try to catch the eye of any female around. When they catch me looking they do have the sense to look a little sheepish since I am old enough to be their much older mother, but the attitude seems to other women seems very demeaning. They much younger, little boys do it alone and try to be secretive about it. For a child barely in first grade, I have to wonder why they do it. Have they seen other boys do this? Is it something that they’ve seen at home? I am just curious since it is such a common practice that I see it virtually ten or more times a week.

Older children, the ones already grown up and out of college, the ones who are married with possibly families of their own act no better at times than the children they are raising.

It was after we had closed on New Year’s Eve. The manager on that night, last night to be honest, and I were tired and really wanted to go home. This man was still in the store shopping having come five minutes before closing. We were trying to re-stock for the next day, closing one of our registers, all the myriad of things we need to do before we can leave the store. He was ambling around as if he had all the time in the world and in fact, he sort of did. He wasn’t meeting his girlfriend whom he was buying the bear for for another three hours. At last he came to the register after the store had been closed for fifteen minutes and said, “I’ve decided I want to put a sound in my bear.”

If we could have lifted our collective heads and sighed at the ceiling we would have. Instead we did our jobs. But after that young man left, we did talk about his lack of awareness of our feelings.

I have had a man be very rude to me in front of his son to the point where the son, probably around thirteen or fourteen, say to his father, “Dad, that was pretty rude. I think you hurt her feelings.” The father looked at his son and said, in front of me, “She just works here. She doesn’t matter.” The father looked at me and nodded, asking, “Right?”

I looked at the father and said, “I matter to someone. I know I don’t matter to you. Now how can I be of further help?” My smile was very slight. My eyes were not smiling at all. I tried to carry my body with dignity and grace. I did my job and I was not haughty. I am of service to the people who come into that store but I am not their servant. The father smiled at me and then looked back at his son. He said, “See? She knows she doesn’t matter. It’s okay. That’s the way it is with these people. They know their place.”

After the father was standing at the register, his son came and found me putting shoes on a tiger for a little boy. He leaned down and said, “I’m sorry. I think you’re pretty great and helpful. I’m not my dad.” Then he rushed away; possibly worrying his father would catch him not being just like him.

Hostile Work Environment

Not all curious interactions are between our guests and us. Some are behind the scenes with each other. There is one person I work with during some shifts who seems to wish I were not there. When she first started working there, the first words out of her mouth were, “I’ve heard of you. You’re the top person. I’m gonna take you down. I’m going to be the best and put you down.”

I said, “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry, you didn’t tell me your name. What is it?”

She has made it an adversarial atmosphere for me at every turn. She is a hard worker but her style is not my style. Instead of talking to the guest about themselves, she talks mostly about herself. She talks about her master’s degree. She talks about her recent marriage and the gifts she received. She talks about how much she is valued and loved. I have to admit that the guests who interact with her smile and nod their heads. They seem to be having a nice time. It is possible that hearing her talk about herself all through the inclusion of our time that overlaps our shifts is only grating to me, but I do wish she would allow our guests to do more talking about themselves. Their visit for us is all about them anyway.

We had an incentive program to sell a certain product and the reward was a little pin. This employee started collecting one for every group she sold and wears them. She points them out to our guests saying she is the top seller, that no one else has more than one. None of us wear more than one because the program is over. We all still sell them. We all, percentage wise, are doing very well. We just do not cover ourselves with the reward, mostly because this girl took all the pins. There are none left for the other employees. It does grate when she comes up to us, points out her pins and says, “I’ve sold more than you. I’m better than you.”

I have gotten to the point of holding up my hand to stop her and tell her, “Yes, you are better than me. Now as floor leader I need you to return to your station and work.”

She does not like it that I am floor leader and can assign her to tasks. I tread very carefully with her. She grits her teeth and smiles and salutes me. She says, “Yes, ma’am” through those gritted teeth. There is a darkness in her eyes that I am very aware of. I have overheard her speaking poorly of me behind my back to another employee. I cannot call her out on it. It would cause a disturbance throughout the rest of the workforce, and it does not affect her work, or mine, or the smooth running of the store. The person she talks to is her best friend who also works at the store but will be leaving soon to go back to college. This girl also has quite the arrogant attitude that does not play well into dealing with guests at our store or in her doing what I ask of her. But as I said, she will be leaving. I still have to live with the girl who detests me.

I say detests me because it has come to a little bit of sabotage. Two examples. One. She follows me at times and tries to interfere or interject in my conversations with our guests. She will leave her station and come to where I am and eavesdrop until she can say something that brings her in. It is annoying to me and to our guest and I have had guests complain about it. I have spoken to her about it and she becomes defensive and uses mind murder to twist the scenario. “I was just trying to help. I know the store better than you do.” She does not as she does not work the hours I do, nor checks stock as I do, but she thinks it sounds good. I have to tell her she kept a guest waiting at another station for the interruption and she gets tensely angry at my pointing that out. But it is my job to make the flow through the tore run smoothly and to make a guest wait on her to come and interrupt a conversation between me and another guest is not correct behavior.

Two, the only other example I will give is this one. We give parties at the store. We do not accept tips. A man was trying to tip me for his daughter’s party when she walked up and said, “Oh, no, you can’t accept that. I’m shocked you would try to. Sir, she can’t accept that money. It could get her fired.”

The man was shocked that she spoke that way. He came to my defense and said, “If you and stopped to listen instead of rushing up here you’d know she had already explained that to me. You need to listen better and trust your employees more. She did a fabulous job, which I knew she would, which was why I requested her for the party. You interrupted a conversation here for absolutely no reason. You may step back and let us finish this on a more pleasant note.”

She was appalled and shocked that she was spoken to that way but he was our guest and there was nothing she could do. He was in the position of power and truly a powerful man in this city. He works in the district attorney’s office and carries quite a bit of weight within this city’s government. She had no idea who she had offended which brings the point up of you never know with whom you are dealing.

She said to me later, “I just thought you didn’t know. I didn’t mean to piss him off. Does he know my name? Do you think he’s gonna comment on it about me?” I told her I am a manager-in-training. I have worked here for quite some time now and was taught parties by the manager herself. I know what to do and what not to do. I also told her I had no idea what he would do and left it at that.

There is a vibe about her that makes me wary. It makes that particular shift heavy. I never know when I turn around if I am going to bump into her. I never know if she is going to salute me as a dictator when I merely ask and make assignment. I never know why she stares at me with that dark look. There is a coiled tension about her that has me on edge. She has dropped so many little hints, done so much chipping away at me. My work does not suffer but I find I am more exhausted after a shift with her than at any other time. It is oppressive and there is nothing I can do short of all this she said, I said. I feel this, she makes me feel that. Heresay. Impressions. Not worth upsetting the apple cart. I can endure it for the sake of the job.

But I wish more people would honor the Golden Rule. Do unto others. It really would help the world run a little more smoothly.

So this is my latest contribution. It is merely a collection of observations of things I have seen people do from someone who “doesn’t really matter.” But I think I do matter. I matter to the handful of guests who come through who really need me there to help them. I matter to the few guests who come through hurting; like the woman who is a recent widow and wanted to make a bear dressed like her husband, who wanted to put a recording of his voice in her bear so she can hold it whenever she feels her grief too intensely, which I know from experience can be almost all the time. I mattered to the family who came through with their mom who put her voice in both her daughter’s bears and who later that week died from breast cancer.

And I mattered last night, New Year’s Eve, to the little girl with no hair who wished with all her might on her tiny satin heart that she would “not die tonight.” Her hug was so strong that no, I do not think she did die last night.

Friday, December 23, 2011

suicide and hope ~ opposites sides of the same coin

when i wrote my last posting, i was in shock. Christmas with my daughter is not exactly as i would like it, but there was another thing that happened that day. i received a phone call that morning from the son of a woman i have be building a friendship with.

she is close to me in age. 2 years older. she is widowed. 3 years in January. her children are grown. so are mine. i work a lot but we have been speaking, meeting every once in a while for lunch when i can pay for mine. she had been kind to me when i lost my Church widow friend to the sudden heart attack.

the phone call early Tuesday morning was to tell me that she had taken an overdose of sleeping pills and had passed quietly during the night. her son is devastated. so am i.

i knew she was hurting. so am i. i knew she was sad. so am i. i knew she was missing him terribly. i am missing my Dragon so very much. i did not know she was thinking of taking her life.

i do not know how i missed it. her son does not know how he missed it. i went to her wake last night and i came home and cried. i have mixed feelings about this and will need to work them through in my own heart before writing more. but i just wanted to at least tell someone this. people who may feel my shock and share my sorrow, pain, intense wonder at her decision, all the questions and thoughts that cross a person's mind when they learn that .....

someone took their life because they were too sad to live.

i am sad, but the intensity she felt is not something i share with my friend. i have awe-inspiring storms that rumble and blow through my life. i get scared. i get intimidated. i get upset. it never crosses my mind to give up on living. my Dragon would be hurt and angry and devastated that i could not live without him; that his love had not made me strong, but broken me down. my children would be destroyed.
and in thinking of my own children, i would never want them to give up on life simply because i had died. oh, God, it would break my heart to see them in such despair.

i am widowed. it is still my belief that i always will be widowed. i have no interest in dating or finding anyone. but having said that, i have not given up on myself. i am eating as best i can to take care of the diabetes and high blood pressure. since May 31st, i have lost 27 pounds.
i eat healthy, inexpensive but healthy, like my friend up there. {still can't believe i got that shot just off my Dragon's and my beach where we spent so much of our time.}

i still dream. my dreams are for a small little home. humble and safe with a little garden and fence for my scotties. i'd call it Scotland Yard. just little fantasies that keep my spirit humming along. day dreams that allow my soul to feel nurtured and to let my creativity run free.
i keep up with the people i have "met" here as part of this lonely journey. Dan, Boo, Deb, SSSF, Rose, Sandy, Judy, Suzann, Lys, etc. all of you are important to me. i have lost some along the way. women for whom i wasn't enough. women who have passed ~ my Church friend who died and now this lovely, lonely lady.

we have to stay together. we must keep up with each other. some of us are flying faster than others. some of us, like me, are lolly-gagging at the back soaking up the sun while we drift along on our own little breeze. not all of us grieve the same way at the same time. that is what makes us all so wonderful.
but we must be kind to each other. we must try to stay in touch, check in every once in a while. and if we feel that one of us is in despair, then maybe we can reach out.

my last conversation with my friend who committed suicide was this:

"Bunny, i feel so lost."

"me, too, but we can be lost together. i am hoping that maybe, one day soon, maybe after this holiday season, we can sort of find our way again. it's just temporary, this being lost. it's Christmas and we feel their absence. we'll hang on together. just call me whenever you want to talk."

but she didn't call. instead, she took pills and now her son has lost both his parents. i feel for him so much. at the wake he looked like a deer in the headlights. his fiancee was right beside him. helping him. being there with him. i know she and him together will get through this.

as for me, i have lost another friend.

but i have the few that are sticking by me. today i returned home from work to an email from Dan. he is a blessing. he sent me an email that helped me and lifted my soul. Christmas can be so hard when you want things you cannot have. people like Dan who look back over their shoulders to check on us little ones; the only words are blessed. i feel humbled and grateful to say i know him and he is my friend.

Dan, thank you for being there even though you had no idea about the sad thing that had happened this week.

suicide and hope are opposites sides of the same coin. something terrible has happened that has caused you to experience a grief so profound that death has crossed your mind. you think about the afterlife. you wonder what is out there. you wonder if it is better. you wonder if you can join someone who has gone before you, your child, your mate, someone so important to you that life here has lost its color. but there are still reasons to continue to live the life that has been gifted to you. there is hope. i will never flip that coin. i will always hold it in my hand and then lay it carefully down in the center of the table. the side that has HOPE etched in it will always be shining upwards.

i pray we all hang in there. we all have so much to be grateful for. we all have someone still here who needs us, who loves us, and who waits for us to come home.
i pray that the peace that can be found at Christmas finds you all. i pray for the hope that we all need to find within reach, is right there for us to hang onto. and i wish for friends and family to surround you, even if it can only on the phone.

we are loved. we are needed. we are important.

i love you, Dragon. i am living. i am remembering you with smiles and laughter. and i will always love you. Merry Christmas.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Christmas then and now

this story is told with old photographs. i cannot afford a camera. don't know when i'll be getting one to update you on my Bunny, on me. so i have gone back in and found old photos to explain what words cannot convey.this is me now. i am deflated. unstuffed as it were. i am a weary Bunny that life has and is kicking the stuffing out of.

this was Christmas before. i got to be with my children. in fact, that Santa is me. my children did not know it was me. i had a wonderful time. i used to love Christmas. i still do but it's more of a Whoville without the presents kind of feeling.
Christmas is sacred and i won't impose my beliefs on you.

Christmas now is like below. i get back from work and i am wiped out. yet i still have to get back up after a brief break and get to work. and now a phone call tonight just blew my Christmas apart again.
i do not know when i will ever get my son to come to me for Christmas. his father, and now this year his girlfriend, commandeer Christmas and i never get to be with him. years like this. years. i feel smaller and smaller each year. he admitted to me that he hates it being this way but he knows i love him and always will. he trusts me, he said, and hates hurting me but he knows i will never hold this against him. he goes with the person and to the person who can hurt him if he does not cooperate.

so the phone call tonight that has further taken Christmas away? my daughter and son-in-law have to go to his mother's for Christmas. my daughter had to tell her that i needed to be invited otherwise i would not get to see them at all. i would be alone on Christmas. so i was grudgingly invited.

i did not cry on the phone. my daughter wants to see me and i want to see her. my work schedule has been such that i have not gotten to see her in 2 weeks. so i am going in my own car so that when it gets too tense, i will leave. it is this other woman's house and she is very much Queen. it will be her family around and i quite simply will not exist.

one day a year. Christmas. and i put so much in store on it. and i keep bowing my head to make sure my children are not under any more pressure than they already are. but i am getting older. i feel older. i feel tired. i simply want one Christmas. just one. one more. that's all. one to remember forever. one where there is no pain, no pressure, no being so alone that i feel like the whole world died instead of just my husband who would do anything for me.

i just want one Christmas.

but i have my pack. a new Three Musketeers has evolved from the ashes.
Scootie Wootums, me, and Carmen Sophia. we are a pack. they love me. they trust me. i can be angry and they come to me. i can walk in the door deflated and beaten down in spirit, and they believe in me. i can be sick and they never leave my side. i see their loyalty. i watched them mourn, and still mourn, our Dragon. Scootie still goes to the closet to get his shoe to lay on the floor with his nose inside it. and Carmen puts her paw on it laying side-by-side. they miss him as i do. together in bed, they stretch out beside me so that, if i need to get up for a drink or to go to the rest room, they follow me. then we get snuggled back together. they are with me in this tiny place no matter what part of the apartment i go to. they lay on the bath mat when i take a shower.

they do not worry how they look or how they will be perceived. they mourn and they feel joy in the day. both emotions so close together. they are in touch with their feelings to a degree that we as humans fight against and probably shouldn't. they miss our Dragon but they are happy to be with me. their dejection when i have to leave for work breaks my heart. they seem to understand when i say, "i have tomorrow off!" they are thrilled. this is not appreciation for m as their caretaker. i truly believe they love me. me. me as i am. me. imperfections and all. me. tired and broken and deflated,

and unstuffed. they love me. and i love them.

and we love Dragon who is not here.
maybe i don't get to have Christmas because i am not really home. i haven't been home in years. i am not where i should be. i am not a family. well, i am a family of 1, or 3 if you let me count my dogs.

but my children have other people in their lives they have to appease. it just seems a shame that these people have to BE appeased.

it is my gift to them to not demand to be appeased. i have no hoops for them to jump through. i do not snap my fingers. i love my children and just want to be with them when they are free to be with me.

but i wonder where home is? Dragon? will home one day be with you? or will i be lost to the darkness still? will i be doomed to forever roam, never having a true home? will i ever feel safe and at peace? at least i know one thing for sure. Scootie Wootums and Carmen Sophia will probably wait for me and follow me into the dark, or the light, or whatever waits a deflated, unstuffed, unimportant Bunny like me.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

being Bunny

when i sit and ponder my life, assess my character and/or lack of character, i truly see myself as i am. i have no illusions that i am this cool person that people love to know. i have no bag of tricks or endearing quality that keeps people close to me. what i do have is the ability to read people and adapt myself into being what they want and need of me at that time. what i do have is a wicked sense of humor that i seldom share because, as my Dragon once told me when i asked him, "you are razor sharp and your wit is dry. i love it, but then i survived Marine boot camp. i love a woman i have to run to keep up with. lots of big words, babe. very sexy. now let's get those clothes off and you can use those big words on me."

i carry a lot of baggage; i admit that. growing up deathly afraid of my mother, becoming afraid of my first husband, being the way i am {being born a Bunny of a person} and living a life of emotional poverty, and now financial poverty, has weighed on me. it makes a person a little more fragile. it also turns them into survivors grateful for any minute blessing. i found the love of my own person infinity so late. then seeing him die, working on him to get him to breathe, then seeing that spark that made him my love, that light in his eyes, the recognition of this world fade away; it ripped me apart. so yes, i carry a lot of things within my soul.

when i was a little girl, i dreamed of where i would live and how life would be. my dreams were fanciful to say the least.
yeah, my place was the stuff of childish wishes and fairy dust and warm starry night skies.

as i got older, i dreamed of living in an old home, saving it, and filling it with equally old things. not expensive treasures but with things tossed aside, comfortable things, and things that i had made like stained glass. i'd have a lot of wood in my home and a big stone fireplace. it was representative of my feeling unsafe and desperately needing a sanctuary to retreat to. i need warmth and space to be myself without fearing abuse in whatever form it took.
what i got was what some call a "character building" life. i learned things i never wanted to learn, things i pray my children never learn about. i learned to adapt, and to survive. but i lost so much along the way. i lost things. i lost a lot of myself. sacrifices i was willing to make for the greater good.

i lost a little dog that meant a great deal to me. DudleyLove. that's him below. i recently found all my photos of him. he was my shadow for so long. lost his ear to the cancer that finally took him from me. i laid on the floor with him his final night on this earth. the next morning, i laid on the floor at the vet's for his final breaths. it damn near killed me.
and then i lost my beloved Dragon. and i did die that night. a part of me is gone. i am not the same person at all and by that i mean i am not the person i started out to be, nor am i the person i became because of my mother, or because of Voldemort {first husband}. nor did i get the time to become the woman i was being allowed to become because of my Dragon's love. i am, once again, so very different. i wonder sometimes if God would recognize me as the child he sent to earth almost 54 years ago. but then, He's been with me every step of the way so i guess that question is moot.

i miss my Dragon. i miss missing him more than i do right now. i used to miss him more but time is taking care of the intensity. now, i simply ache for him.

i work at the Bear. i am Bunny both here and there. oh, my gosh, i'll have to turn that into a poem later on. but for now, just know that i am doing okay. {no, Bunny, it's not arrogant to say}...i am doing well at the Bear. i can connect with people. i have made a lasting impression on some who come back to see me often.

but i miss him. and i sometimes still cry. like last night. needed him so badly, but all i had was my pillow with his photo silk screened on it. so i talked to the darkness and cried for him.
but today went better. my daughter came up and helped me with some problems. see, it's been a rough almost 2 weeks. rent increase notice came and since the apartments were bought out by a big corporation, there is nothing the front office can do. but it's only a $27 increase. crap. but they are going to fix all the little problems with my apartment now. yea! and i had an issue with Time Warner Cable but my daughter took care of that. i am now paying less for my cable than i ever have before. she was awesome.

i worry about the VA dumping me because they will think i make too much money at the Bear which does not cover rent, and it's not like i shop at all for anything other than food and sewing supplies, but i do worry they will applaud my work ethic and say, "so long." so then, as my daughter says, her brother will be there for me. she said, and i quote, "you are safe, mom. you were always there, every day, for us. you still are. and now it's our turn to be there for you. it's not like you gave up on life. you work hard at the store and at your sewing business. we're here to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. just breathe."

and so that's what i am going to be doing this Christmas season, and after. during my birthday and his upcoming anniversary, the one where his soul left mine behind. i will also breathe through Valentine's Day, the anniversary of his funeral. and i will keep that as my mantra now. "just breathe." "just breathe."

and i think my Dragon will understand that i cannot cry every single day, but i do miss him every single moment of every single day. i am not ready to "move on," or "get a life." besides, i think i actually have a life. i work, i sew, i take care of myself and my little dogs. i help people. i write, i still dream. yeah, big accomplishment that one is: i still dream. my life is simply one where, if i may personify grief, i have accepted grief as a lasting companion and feel it is grieving along with me.

i will always want my Dragon. i have met men at the store. no one has risen me from the dead yet. no one, no matter how cool or unique in their own way, will match my Dragon. i am not feeling it.

and i know what you're going to say to me so don't. let me quantify my remarks with this. you do not know my Dragon and all we had between us. i will never tell you all the private stuff. you do not know our love and our life together. he was so incredible a person that even if we had only been friends, i would have been in awe of him. i used to tell him he was the guy every guy thought he was after 3 drinks. so let that one go. to me, my Dragon was and is the end-all/be-all. 'nuff said. {besides, i cannot be the only one who raises their spouses up to lofty pedestals. we all know what we had. leave us to our glorious memories.}
so i am going to "just breathe" my way along this life. i am humbly grateful for anything i get and everything i have. i mean, after all, how many people get to BE Bunny?

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

winter feelings

the song that starts off this blog is not one that particularly relates to my grief. i just like it. that's what music is for.

i miss my camera. Bunny is looking pretty cute these days with some Christmas clothes i made her but i have no way of showing you.

people are so strange at work. they are either decent and fun or they are obnoxious and greedy and arrogant. there is no in-between. i was doing a heart ceremony for a little girl when a man in his 60's, very well-dressed, put his arrogant, self-entitled hand between my face and the face of the child i was helping and snapped his arrogant, self-entitled fingers. his words to me?

"get up and come help me, NOW." yes, emphasis on the "now."

i patiently told him i would be right with him. his "BITCH!" echoed through the store as he left in a huff. my manager patted me on the back later and said i had done the right thing. you don't abandon a child mid-heart ceremony.

a child came up to me and demanded i stuff her bear. her mother apologized for her attitude. i was patient. {i am always patient.} when it came time for the heart, she reached in the bin with both hands and grabbed so many little satin hearts that quite a few fell to the floor. her mother was horrified and told her to put them all back and take only one. i encouraged her to take only one by saying that there were so many other children who will be coming and will want hearts in their bears.

"i don't care about them. they can go suck it." {she was 10. this child was 10 years old.}

her mother gasped. "if you continue to talk like that i'm not getting the bear."

"yes, you are. you always get me what i want."

and sadly, the little girl got the bear, clothes, underbears - underwear for bears, shoes, purse, a $38 pink wardrobe for the clothes, a little bear cell phone, and a backpack like i carry Bunny in.

but the bear only got one heart.

i told her she could only put one heart in the bear. i held the bear, looking at her, and speaking in a low tone. i simply said, "i need you to put back every single heart, taking only one for your bear. this is a day, just a day when your mom decided to do something nice for you. and the bear? she's not greedy. she only wants one heart. please, put them all back and just pick out one for her. that's all she wants. one heart. one little girl to take care of her."

one heart in the bear. one small conversation in a gentle voice. but the rest of the time there, the little girl was tragically greedy.

and then there was the little girl who was home "visiting" from St. Jude's Children's Hospital where she's being treated for a brain tumor. she came home to "visit" because her mother is dying of her own form of cancer and won't make it to Christmas. the family brought them in for Bunny to help them make bears. the mother put her voice on a Build-A-Sound so the little girl can take it back to St. Jude's with her. the little girl put her voice on a Build-A-Sound so her mother will have it.

and yes, i was excused for a break after they all left the store so i could go to the back room and let go a little bit, and then compose myself to get back out there.

i miss my Dragon. i miss telling him about my day. i miss his holding me and feeling his warmth.

Christmas is coming and i wish he were here.

a police officer who is assigned to the area comes to the Mall a lot to do his beat; to do a walk through. the Mall is part of his assignment. i have gotten to know him. he is my age and will retire in 2 more years he says. he found out i was a widow. he has asked me to lunch.

and i told him, "no. i'm sorry. i hope our conversations did not mislead you. but going out to lunch with you would be unfair to you. i am still in love with my husband. i'm not ready for anything beyond friendship."

he was very gracious. he told me i had not mislead him at all. he knows i wear my wedding rings. he had just asked one of the other girls because he has never seen my husband come to pick me up or even visit me during work. he had just wondered and then had become interested in me. "i see you with the customers. you're so sweet. and i see how the kids love you. i was drawn to that. and any woman who can wear a bunny on her back and carry if off like you do is worth knowing. we'll be friends. how about that?"

i agreed and we shook on it.

a few days later he brought me a slip of paper that had a quote on it he had found.

it said, "we need time to miss the people and the things we lose no matter whether the loss is temporary or permanent." this quote comes from one of my favorite people. Mister Rogers.

it was cold when he had to leave me. he went where i cannot yet go. it is getting colder again. Christmas is coming. New Year's. my birthday. then his anniversary. his. just his. the anniversary of his having to leave me.

December, January, February. one-quarter of a year to get through. me and Bunny. we'll get by.