giving myself another chance

first let me write that i read all the comments and they touched me greatly.  i won't apologize for my meltdown.  i have been under a great deal of stress.  it simply happened.  i acknowledge it, but i won't apologize for it.  i fully admit that i am fragile right now.  i am tired through and through.  it's my fault.  i am working on it.  i want to move past it.  i like unloading here.  it helps me get the poison out.  one person wrote to "screen out" the comments that hurt.  i will try to do that.  i think it will be okay to give myself another chance here.

i had always thought that blogs were for their owner's to write anything they want.  if they so choose, they can rant and rave and lift their fist to the sky to get it all out.  primal scream therapy.  but misunderstandings can come because, as someone else wrote, tone is absent.  we do not really know each other here.  i will say, though, that when i leave a comment on someone's blog, i am always greatly careful how i word things.  i would never want to confuse someone or hurt their feelings.

secondly, i got the news of benign.  they do wish to do another screening when my insurance kicks in again this summer.  i admit i cried when i was told.  and if i ever get bad news, i will tell you i will cry then, too.

i continue to sew when i have a day off.

 quilt top for my son for his birthday that is a work in progress.

 winter

 spring

 summer; and fall is up top as the new banner photo.

 i am purging my closet of his jeans.  i am making myself a kind of Memory Quilt.

and just for the fun of it, here is my little Scootie Wootums who seems to believe

that he can look into the camera lens and see me looking at him.

i continue to miss him.  i am purging my apartment of things {hence the cut up jeans quilt}.  i cleaned out a drawer and found a bunch of papers from the funeral home that handled the cremation for me.  they had a list of things that are "normal" for a grieving person.  of the 20 things on that list, i can still tick off 9 - 11 of those things on any given day. 

throughout most of the days, every day, i do my job.  i work.  i clean my apartment.  i take care of my puppies.  i go to the grocery store.  i sew.  i draw.  but i miss him.  i am lonely.  i do not feel like taking off my rings so i don't think about it.  i do not wish to date to not be lonely.  when i think about how much fun we had, the kind of person he was, how we talked, lived together, loved each other, all the things we went through; i just kinda don't want to try with anyone else.  they say you cannot compare but the terrible thing about me is that i would compare.  he was awesome and i adored him and put him up on this pedestal.  he's still there for me.  so i'm not ready.

but i am lonely.  the days are long.  the nights are long.  but before anyone can point out that everyone has long and lonely lives, that i could do something about it by dating, just know that i know that.  it doesn't ease my missing him.  i understand that being lonely is sort of my choice by living the way i do.  i see the paradox in it. 

it is what it is and i am who i am.  as i wrote at the beginning, i am not going to apologize. 
peace to all who read.  peace and light to all who grieve.

end of an era

i made a huge decision tonight.  i did not discuss it with anyone really though my children have been coaxing me to make it.  i made it ~ the decision.

fall is here; as much as it can be here this far south.  not like where i know it so well.

 come September 1st, summer quickly bows out and Fall with a capital 

comes in with wide open arms. it embraces the earth and us with the coolness

and change of color, the pumpkins and the mums, and the anticipation

of the much colder time approaching.

 Fall was always my favorite time.  i aired out the house before shutting my children and i inside for the frigid cold that creeped up.

i took countless photos of the farm stands and the trees, 

the decorations for Halloween and Thanksgiving.

it was a time where i felt brave and alive for reasons that are not important to you or to this blog.

just know that Fall was a time for change; in the seasons, the air, and in me.

 and i made an enormous decision.

i shut down my creative website.

i received another email asking for prices for my quilts and demanding that all of her requests be completed before Christmas.  i wrote that i work a 40 hour a week job and that i have a quilt commission that i am working on at present, that she would have to wait.

i got chewed out.

so i sent her an email stating that i could not do business with her, and blocked her address from emailing me again. 

and then i went and deleted my creative website.

renaissanceartist no longer exists.

i will finish the commission i have and then......

no more.

 i am tired of working so hard for so little.  i set the prices and then, well, add this, add that, and i ask for a bit more money, but i feel guilty and no way do i charge for the labor intensive work that i am asked to do.  hours and hours.

i make mere dimes for each one of my hours of work.

so no more.

i have projects of my own i want to work on that have been sitting there as sketches.

and i have my beloved children for whom i want to leave a legacy for.

i selfishly want to sew for me now.

i work so hard for the money i make.  so far i am breaking even.  not saving but not going hungry.

i made my first car payment and i have some food. 

my rent is paid and i have gas in my new lil Seanaroonie car to get me to work.

i don't need much and i certainly don't need more work and people who do not understand the time it takes to embroider by hand.  

so it's the end of an era.

renaissanceartist has died.  she died from lack of understanding.

she died from overwork.

she died from the loss of being allowed to breathe.

from the ashes is just little Bunny.

me.

mom to two.

wife to........

Dragon.

still.

always.

forever.

the end of an era.

am i a little misty about it?

Bunny will never tell.

more Art of Grief to shield herself against August

Bunny has been working and working on a Memory Quilt.  it is the third for this woman.  the first two were for her sons. this one is for her.  she sent me a photograph from a website of the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset with a sailboat sailing under the bridge.  she wanted it on one of her husband's shirts.  Bunny has worked for months and months.

and months.

 finally, just this evening, she has finished it.  just this part.  this one shirt.  there are thousands and thousands, and thousands of stitches in this one piece.

 whew!  Bunny is taking the night off.

and working on her car!!

that's right.  before the Bun moves on to the next part of this quilt, she's gonna paint her car.

see that big photo up there?  she bought paints; good paints, well, quazi-good paints. but paint that beats the dollar store paint all to heck.

ooooooooooo, you can see that Bunny's already got some nice paint splatters on her work shirt.

hang around, or come back sometime to see the finished product.

the Bun loves being creative.  she can hide from her pain and ignore those twinges of wanting to look up and show her Dragon what she's working on.  if she does forget and look up,

she tells herself she was just showing the dogs.

August is coming.

August is his birthday.

August is the 3 and a half year mark.

3 and a half years.

3 and a half y-e-a-r-s.

{Bunny looks around her and looks inside her heart and wonders why it still hurts to badly.}

August is our wedding anniversary.

August is a,

let's just say that August is a 

difficult month

for Bunny.

"may you live a thousand years and i a thousand less one day,

that i may never know when you have passed away."

the art of grief

i've been down, really kinda scary down.  ashamed of my meager life and my little retail job.  tired of explaining that Marines don't make 6 figure salaries.  worried about my physical health.  i have a doctor's appointment about my diabetes and my broken foot and broken knee on Tuesday.

it's been three years and i miss him as much now as i did the moment he "left" me.  i remember sitting beside him in the hospital after they pronounced him gone.  i couldn't believe his body was there but he was gone.  he was gone; just gone.

i sat there holding his arm, trying to get his fingers to close around mine but it was all wrong.  he wasn't warm anymore.  and he was getting cooler.

sadly i still remember this with clarity and detail that astounds me.  but then i've always been cursed/blessed with a great capacity for memory.

i've held many jobs over my life.  when i was 16, i was a model.  i never told anyone that after i left my hometown.  but i was.  i was a little local model for a boutique.  it was my mother's idea and i always did what she told me to do.  but the one thing i have always been is an artist.  i was called a shy child, extremely withdrawn.  i wasn't really though.  i was just careful.  i never wanted to get into trouble.   when i was 7 my mother was told to get me involved in some activity after school.  i asked for art lessons.  she allowed it.  and i've never stopped being creative, artistic.

Antonin Artaud wrote:  "no one has ever written, painted, sculpted, modeled, built, or invented except to literally get out of hell."

i can tell you, from my experience, that statement is true.

i still paint.

 

footboard of my bed that i don't use but it's leaning against the wall in my hallway with books slowly building up underneath it.  so i guess it's a glorified book end.

 the headboard that i actually use as a headboard.  i also play my ocean waves sounds to try and go to sleep with.

 my shark board.  it's leaning against the wall of my bedroom on my dresser.  i love him.  such a flawless machine.

my embroidery piece that i am working on for a Memory Quilt.  it has taken me hours and hours,

and hours and hours to do this and i am still not done.  there is still so much more shading and highlighting to do.  i'll take a photo when i am done.

and of course, Bunny's clothes and her bags i wear, the way i use her as my alter ego, is all my art.

and my words.  my writing.  it builds up inside me and i have to let it out.  i have to tell someone about what i feel.  you guys are it.  you are all i have.

i am grieving still.  i get along okay.  i am fighting this slump with all that i have inside me,

which is my love for him, and my children.  i can't let them down.

and my silly little dogs.  i love them so much.

now i need to try and love myself a little bit. more than self preservation.  more than, "i'm doing it for him and my children."  i need to try and like myself.  i need to find something inside me that my mother never saw, that my father ignored, the my brother turned his back on, that my first husband turned cold towards......

i need to find something inside me that only my Dragon saw.

my children?  aw, they love me because i am their mom.  they imprinted on me and they know i would die for them.

but me?  just me by myself?  what am i worth?

i need to collect my thoughts and remember all the things my Dragon said to me when we were courting, and we were courting right up to the moment he died.

i love him.

but i need to like me, to find something in myself i am proud of.

maybe,

maybe i can be proud of my art again.

maybe i can try to pull myself out of this hell of my own creation.

get it?  i "created" my own hell?  how's that for irony?

a rumor of angels

in 1832, five years after Beethoven's death, a German critic compared the sonata to the effect on Lake Lucerne, and the interpretation became so popular that, by the end of the century, the piece was universally known as the "Moonlight Sonata." Beethoven himself had attributed the emotion of the piece to sitting at the bedside of a dear friend who had suffered an untimely death.

my beloved Dragon died on the full moon. widely known if you've read my missives before.

i had yesterday off from work and today. miraculous as i have been working week after week straight through with maybe one or two days off a month. the moon is coming full. that's it tonight up there in the big photo. the last two days i've been cleaning out files. i deleted my Dragon's email account, personal and business. there just is no need to keep them up anymore. it's not a step forward. it's just a step. maintenance of my life. i also wrote out everything my children will need to know for when i die. more maintenance of my life. making it easier to clean up after me.

in going through files, tossing things out, i found his EKG strip from the night he died. i didn't know i had it. i don't know why they thought i would want it. the strip no more verifies his death to me than the death certificate. his absence alone is enough for me.

i love him. i thought about it again when someone came into the store and casually asked when i would ever take off my rings. this man's sister had taken hers off 3 months after her husband died. she put herself on the dating websites at 6 months. she has been married and divorced twice since her husband died. it will be two years for her April 1. his off-the-cuff casual remark was, "i mean, God bless her, at least she's trying to move on." he was a customer and i had to treat this forced upon me conversation with care, but i did manage to say, "maybe the reason she's had two divorces is she is looking for her husband in every man she meets. it is possible that she is moving on in the wrong direction, or too fast."

it never ceases to amaze me how people feel they can impose their judgments upon strangers. now it has become water off a duck's back. i let it slide off me without leaving a dent. after 3 years of this, of failing at every attempt at grief groups and talking to people, i just let it go and go my own way. there's no one to really sit and talk this out with, not for any long kind of conversation, or frequent one where the whole story gets told in confidence.

parts of it are floating around out there in places where it will never come together in any significant way to help me get past it faster. so i am taking this journey sort of on my own.

"lead, kindly light, amid th'encircling gloom,

lead thou me on;

the night is dark, and i am far from home;

lead thou me on;

keep thou my feet; i do not ask to see

the distant scene - one step enough for me." ~ John Henry Neuman

i do sort of look for signs that i have help. angels. i have two cameras at my ready hand because of two angels. Sandy and Dan. i have a job i work hard at and am recognized as "Bunny" by my co-workers who have given me positive reinforcement. angels all.

i have my two fuzzy puppies who love me and need me. i am needed. two fuzzy angels.

i work very hard at my sewing. i have talent with a needle that is not common. it is appreciated by those who have asked for my work. they are angels for giving me something else to work on.

i do not worry anymore about living up to the expectations of others. i will never meet it. i need to feel comfortable. i need to feel safe. i. me. i do not have the strength to make legions happy. i do not have the desire. my strength is saved to fight the spiritual battles of my nights. and the nights that hit me during the day. i am older now and physical strength is allocated for stamina at work.

"one aspect of deep grief is loss of imagination. one cannot imagine a time when one is not in pain.

how many times have i sabotaged myself by leaping ahead of my own healing process, trying so desperately to 'feel better' that i make myself feel even worse because i have added to my primary pain the new complication of failure. in cheating myself of the necessary time to feel bad i have cheated myself of the only process that could really heal me. ultimately, the only way to get through something is to get through it - not over, under, or around it, but al the way through it. an it takes as long as it takes." ~ Alla Bozarth-Campbell, Ph.D
"not a day passes over the earth, but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words, and suffer noble sorrows." ~ Charles Reade

my Dragon was a great man. no one could take note of his deeds for they were done in secret. his patriotism left no mark that anyone can point to and say, "he fixed that," "he saved them," and "he helped the world." all secrets. all being pushed into a file to be forgotten forever.

he spoke great words ~ of love to me, of dreams he wanted to see fulfilled, of sweet nothings that mean everything to a woman like me.

he suffered in silence the pains in his body from living a lifetime as a warrior. his death was a sneak attack.

have there been signs from him? i don't know and i do let myself think maybe, just maybe. it could also be my guardian angel. maybe there is something else for me to do. some lasting legacy i need to finish. more quilts. more sewing. more heart ceremonies. more growing up to do. more penance for a misspent life, or.....

maybe there is more beauty for me to see: clouds, moons, grandchildren ~ graces all.

i still miss him. i still love him. i still wear my rings. i still talk to him every day. i still talk about him if someone asks, only if someone asks. my life is a lonely one without him here at night, in the dark, in bed.

i know humans can never become angels, but maybe there is an angel who represents my husband who comes in during the night to sit and watch over me. maybe that angel was the one who gave me the strength to slowly move my hand over the can, slowly open my fingers holding that strip of paper, that EKG with the little flat line all the way across it, and then turn away and not watch it fall into the trash.

"the sight of stars always sets me dreaming just as naively as those black dots on a map set me dreaming of towns and villages. why should those points of light in the firmament, i wonder, be less accessible than the dark ones on a map of France? we take a train to go to Tarascon or Rouen and we take death to go to a star." ~ Vincent Van Gogh referring to his painting, "Starry Night."

"the best thing that's ever been mine"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

embroidery / Memory Quilts

Bunny has been so low, oh, so very low of late. worries. stress. pain. but still she lingers in this life. there is still stuff for her to do.

wisdom to impart? oh, pul-eeze. no wisdom from Bunny. Bunny just does what Bunny can. she works to live and yes, lives to work. it is all she has.

look at that soft, wistful little face? she has off today. it is good because she rests her foot up high on a Cushiony Soft Cushion of Restful Bliss. she has lingered in her 'jammies and is being, oh, so creative.

glimpses of the Memory Quilt she has been working on.
Eiffel Tower and Matterhorn and a snowboard embroidered on the quilt. lots and lots of colors and stitches.

this is the snow board Bunny embroidered that exactly matches the photograph sent to her to match. she worked so hard on this.

she also created a little ocean/island scene that she is very proud of. tons of floss. thousands of stitches. tricky fabric.

today she is working on the Porsche emblem. there is going to be the little Porsche horse in the center. Bunny is all propped up working; just working away.

she miss him, you know. she pines for her Dragon. nights are still so very hard. days at the store take her mind from her grief, but sitting there sewing, Bunny's fuzzy little mind has time to miss him. her foot aches with this sudden cold snap. owie ouch ouch. if Dragon were here, he'd tenderly rub her foot. he would stroke her soft fuzzy fur and take her into his arms and tell her this: "we'll get it fixed. i love you. you're brave, so brave. i'll find the money. we'll work it out."

so Bunny tells herself this: "he loves you still. you'll be getting, oh, so many hours as the holidays approach. you'll get on the insurance in 6 more months. just 6 more months and then you can get it fixed. he is so proud of you. he thinks you are oh, so brave. keep going. keep working. cry if you must. be patient with yourself......

because......

he loves you still."

*waves at the world* "i am still here...."

i'm still here.

i ordered the book recommended to me: Diary: Divine Mercy in My Soul by Saint Faustina. i look so very forward to spending time with that book. i need someone to speak to me while i am hurting here so much. i need some new words to hold onto. it has been a while since something touched my soul.

i am on the last embroidery work for this quilt. i will be putting the back together, then putting the quilt together in the frame to quilt it. i am feeling a little lighter about this work. it has been long and arduous, but i am proud of each stitch. hundreds of thousands of stitches of embroidery in this quilt. i will post photos of the work at some other point in time.

the holidays are coming. it means more hours at work. i am guaranteed 39 each week. i need the money. i am not going anywhere nor is anyone coming over. just work and work and cuddle with my dogs and try to find rest in sleep.

i cracked the bone in my right heel. it just split right up the inside of my heel. there is a big bulge there now. maybe in April 2012 after i get on health insurance at work i can have it "repaired." i have no idea what that will entail but it cannot entail me having any time off work or i cannot have that done. i am in a great deal of physical pain. it burns and throbs with every step i take, and when i am sitting down, too. standing at the register is a nightmare. i became nauseous today with the pain, and i was so proud of myself. no one knew.

i am still here. i have not quit. i am just treading water; no longer swimming at this time. maybe after the holidays. maybe after i get my foot fixed. maybe, maybe, maybe........

"But there is suffering in life,

and there are defeats.

No one can avoid them.

But it's better to lose some of the battles

in the struggles for your dreams

than to be defeated without ever knowing

what you're fighting for." ~ Paulo Coelho

i am fighting to survive.

i no longer think about having a "life." i no longer dream. i just want to survive until my continued existence is no longer required. all i want is to eventually come across a period of time in my life when nothing goes wrong and i feel more or less okay. that is what i am fighting for these days.

maybe my outlook will improve once i get a handle on coping with the pain of my cracked foot. it really is a bitch.

anyway, i am still out here writing to whomever is reading/listening. i am still here and i am not giving up.

toward him

i am still here. i wish to thank C., and C.L., and M., and T., and V. for the emails of concern and care. you took the time to reach out to me during your busy lives and i am very, very grateful. you saw me for what i am and what my life has become ~ a Bunny who has fallen off her Dragon over open water. she is treading water, not knowing which way to swim. your kindness means so much. bless you all.

i have been alternating between all-consuming panic and an acceptance that this is my life now. i am waiting for the VA ~ still in that 10 - 40 day period of when they say they will let me know. i am still searching for work. my son and daughter have both told me that, no matter what happens, i will never be homeless or without food. my son-in-law's father has even tried to reassure me. and i do feel that they are weaving a net under me. my children reminded me of a book i read to them when they were small titled, "A Special Trade." i raised them and kept them safe. my Dragon and i paid for them to get through college. it is time for me to lean on them. it does, however, cause me great, great pain to be in this position. i am desperately and actively searching for work via outside my apartment and through encouraging anyone to recommend my sewing skills to whomever may want them. please.

i have been hiding from life by working almost nonstop on all the embroidery on a quilt and on jeans for a little girl.

i am almost finished with a sunset on a beach image my client wants. still a little more orange to go but i bought the floss today so, after this posting, back at it.

and i give my back a break from the quilt embroidery work by going to sit on my balcony and embroider on a pair of jeans for a little girl, a sweet 6 year-old who even wrote me a note thanking me in advance.

this pair will be my version of a Tasha Tudor garden. the next pair will have a unicorn on a beach with a sand castle.

i can hide in my embroidery work. my air conditioner broke a month or so ago and the apartment had been getting up to 95 degrees inside, hence sitting on the balcony as much as possible. the part finally came in and the two men came to fix it. they saw the beach embroidery and were almost speechless. they both paused over it, gingerly touched the treads. i told them a little about the young man for whom the quilt will belong, a little about the family, and why i go to so much extra effort and detail to try and bring them comfort. my daughter tried to point out that i really do good work.

{she was a little more ebullient with the compliments but i cannot repeat those words. i cannot talk about myself that way. i can only see my flaws and faults. my Dragon was my mirror and he is gone. before him, i never saw myself as anything other than the words used by my mother and Voldemort to describe me. i had only in the last couple of years accepted that my Dragon really believed i was valuable. he taught me to see what he saw. this is something i will have to remember, his words, when i look in a mirror. but always, i will keep these memories to myself since he is not here to back me up.}

i miss him. i miss him desperately. i miss him holding my hand. i miss laying with him reading, his fingers absentmindedly playing with my hair. i miss his touching me. i miss him coming up behind me whispering his risque plans for a romantic evening. i miss him. i miss everything about our life together.

it has been 20 months and 10 days. the full moon is coming. i am tired. i am in pain. i am lonely, but only lonely for him. i need to survive without being too big a burden to my children. i need the VA to approve the pension. being terrified and poor and grieving is purgatory. time is passing and i am further and further away from the last time i held him and smelled his skin and kissed his mouth. i am being pushed along to places and experiences i never wanted to feel again, or to feel for the first time.

throughout this time, i have been keeping him alive in my mind. i have written that my heart is gone and after introspection, it really is gone. i do not feel anything anymore except my love for him and for my children. beyond that, i am empty. i still have no interest in even thinking about meeting a man. no one compares to my Dragon, and i am still too involved in my memories of my Dragon's lovemaking, in his way of giving me faith that i matter, in his way of letting me know how much he needed me, like i needed him. i am still too much in love with him. i had a terrible marriage, one where the pendulum swung from being ignored to being hurt. and then my Dragon came into my life and he gave me so much more than a marriage. he gave me a sacrament.

i love him. i miss him. i wish he could tell me what to do. i wish he could just whisper in my ear like before: "it's going to be all right."

but really, even after 20 months and 10 days, all i have to do is close my eyes. his voice comes to me and i can hear him. i keep my eyes closed and focus on his strength. i try to feel his belief in me. when i find it, when i can breathe it in, then i can get up and go on.

toward him.

"i love you

not only for what you are

but for what i am when i am with you.

i love you

not only for what you have made of yourself

but for what you are making of me.

i love you

for the part of me that you bring out;

i love you

for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart

and passing over all the foolish, weak things

that you can't help

dimly seeing there,

and for drawing out into the light

all the beautiful belongings

that no one else had looked

quite far enough to find.

i love you

because you are helping me to make

of the lumber of my life

not a tavern

but a temple;

out of the works of my every day

not a reproach

but a song.

i love you

because you have done more than any creed

could have done

to make me good

and more than any fate could have done

to make me happy.

you have done it

without a touch,

without a word,

without a sign.

you have done it by being yourself.

perhaps that is what

being a friend {my lover, my husband} means

after all."

~ Roy Croft

troll with a roll of film

the warm feeling of my good day on Tuesday has not lasted. i am cold inside again. we are supposed to be able to recall happier times, wonderful moments, and keep ourselves bolstered with the confidence of what was. but i think there needs to be some kind of balance, or at least a better one than i have.

put the good times, the happy memories on one side of a scale and there should be some heft to it. the bad should not far, far outweigh the good. not by the margin that my scale is tilted.

i am alone all the time in between my daughter's once a week day off. there are people who email me fairly regularly, and keep emailing. some are readers who chose to comment through email. some are my readers from the web magazine i write for. all want me to write to correspond with them in my, i guess to them, unusual style. that has been nice. people know i am out here. i guess you could say i am not "alone" but i do like to occasionally see a face, hear a voice, sit beside someone and listen, and be heard. i am grateful for what i have,

but i want to go home.

i am on a list for emailed updates on real estate in Rockport, MA. it is "home" to me since it is where i lived a life that had love in it. "hey, mom. guess what? someone did love me. got nothing to say? yeah, finally." i was the unlovable one.

we were sitting on the bluff overlooking Whale Cove, {see photo below} on a stormy day. we were silently taking in the stiff, cool wind and listening to the cry of the gulls and the rush of the waves. there was lightning in the distance hence the newly added soundtrack} that Dragon was keeping an eye on. he broke our silence by asking this question:

"Why are you always surprised when you see how much I love you? Would you like to tell me what happened to you?"

"my mother told me i was unlovable. she had said that i may get married but he would not really love me. she was right. he told me i was unlovable. you know the other stuff. but i guess it is just the repetitive syllables of un-love-able being beaten into my brain over and over, and over for years, decades. and you are so beautiful. you are so capable and strong and, you're just a lovely person. how can someone like you love someone like me?"

"I love you because of all the gentleness you have inside you. You see so much beauty in the world. All anyone has to do is take a walk with you outside to know what's in your heart. And after all you've been through, you still carry hope inside you. You still think such beautiful thoughts. The scars you think are ugly tell me the story of your survival to hang on until I could get to you." he put his arm around me and told me, "I will never leave you. I have you now. You're mine, and when there's no more you and I on Earth, there will still be a you and I."

i embroidered that last sentence on my own Memory Quilt. from the look in his eyes, he meant every word of what he said to me. he loved me. he loves me? i love him.

i want to go home. i want to go to the ocean where the sky can be seen without tall buildings in the way and there is grass and sand under my feet. i do not know where home is anymore since home was where he was. i am alone all the time and i am so used to it that when i am out for long, i get anxious. i think, "i should get back. i have work to do. i am having a nice time with {my daughter] but i am not working and i need to work to have value."

i have no value as a friend. "you make the quilts and then they forget about you." "you don't have a car and you're grieving so you're not any help to me and too inconvenient to come and get." i am very low today. a woman, another widow, had entered into the realm of my little world here through the 'Net and she had wondered if i had wanted to go somewhere with her. she knows i have no car. i wrote to her that i would love to go, it was a place i would have loved to have gone and seen, no details here, but i told her my daughter works Saturdays and i have no car. she did not respond until late last night with an email where she wanted me to comfort her while she was having a bad night. i got on Facebook and chatted with her and she felt better. today, she is meeting two other friends at this place, spending the day with them. they both have cars.

the Bun is alone. in her mind, in her empty chest where her heart does not reside anymore, and in her actual physical little Bun Bun world, she is very isolated. she knows people can be alone in a crowd but even being alone in a crowd sounds kind of nice to her today when she knows there is a crowd she could have felt alone in. there were things she could have looked at and taken pictures of. she could have been lonely in that crowd, shuffled along listening to snatches of conversations, feeling the sun on her furry arms and the breeze through her furry fur. tousled fur for Bun would have been a nice warm memory to have added to the meager few she has.
so many people have told her, via email, that they love Bunny. Bunny even now has her own Facebook page. if you want to befriend her, contact me and i will tell you her last name. several of her friends are Canadians. Bunny is big with some people up there. but she wonders if people expect to see Beach Bunny, Bun Bun, The Bun and are disappointed by the countenance that she actually has been cursed with. Bunny is soft and pretty. the real Bunny is a tired, sad woman with a 1000 yard stare. she is hollow-eyed and haunted looking. she is haunted by the love she had finally been given and had to watch leave her.

she returned her daughter's camera and has been using her 35 mm from the ancient days of yore while waiting on her new digital she finally save the money to buy. the real Bunny looks nothing like soft, pretty Bunny with the digital.
she is just a toll with a roll of film. a boho, hippie troll with a creative mind that sees beauty in a world that does not see beauty or value in her because why? she does not own a car? she is not flush with cash to go places, even a little bit? she knows how people could be but choose not to be. Bunny as troll is not pretty on the outside. {her Dragon thought she was. he also said she was pretty on the inside and that is why he loved her.}

is it her? she is the common denominator in a lot of failures and yet,

and yet,

her Dragon loved her just as she was. he spent time with her and got to know her. he learned what made her smile, and laugh. he saw her eyes. he saw her heart. and she gave it to him to keep forever. that is why she has no heart anymore. shhhh. listen. hear that? nothing. yeah. Bunny gave her heart away to Dragon. he took it with him so he does not get lonely for her.

i guess the troll is only really the Bunny to him. get to know the Bun and that outer lovely mirage you think she is becomes the troll. maybe one day, someone will see the Bunny behind the troll and allow the Bun to be a friend. even if she does not have a car.