Category Archives: grief

What Part of No . . .

Do they not understand . . .

Yes, I know that I just lost my mother . . .

And you’re trying to be neighborly . . .

Because you think I’m a weak little female that can’t possible take care of a yard all by herself . . .

Dude . . . I appreciate the offer . . . I really do . . .

but I’ve been doing this by myself for over 6 years now . . .

The grass in the front yard is a hot damn mess because IT’S RAINED FOR 8 STRAIGHT DAYS . . . and I can’t mow grass when it’s wet . . .

Not because I’m a helpless little girl that needs a man to help me . . .

See . . . I don’t “scalp” my yard when I mow it . . .

and I’ve learned how to use the bagger on the mulch mower so I don’t have to rake the yard when it’s a jungle and there are large clumps of grass all over the place . . .

and I’ve learned now to use the leaf blower so that I can clean the sidewalks without having to use an actual broom to . . .

and I know where the divots are in the yard where the tree roots from where the old elm trees used to be . . .

and I know where the termite station is and I (rarely) mow over it and shatter it into a gazillion pieces . . .

and more importantly . . . and the reason why I’m so upset TODAY OF ALL DAYS . . . I know where the hens and chicken plants my dear departed Mother gave to me several years ago . . . AND I DON’T MOW OVER THEM . . .

Y’all . . . I realize it’s a small thing . . . and I should (SHOULD) smile sweetly and say “thank you” to someone doing me a kindness during a time of grief . . . because he’s a guy and he only know how to “help” during a time of grief . . . but I can’t let this go . . . I won’t say anything because I don’t know how to do that without being pissy . . . but those damn plants came from my Mom . . . and today was her funeral . . . so I’m gonna just be petty and sulk.

 

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I Have No Idea How To Do This . . .

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Everybody . . . this is Mom . . . 

My biggest supporter.  My biggest champion.  The first person I wanted when the troopers came to tell me about Prince Charming’s accident.  The person I could always count on to step up and tell me when I was wrong.  She (figuratively) kicked my butt more than once when she thought I needed it . . . even if I didn’t want to hear it.  But she also sang my praises from the roof tops to anyone who would listen for all of my successes.  

She came from a massively dysfunctional family and had a very unhappy childhood.  She swore that she would not make the same mistakes her parents had made and was going to find a man that loved and cherished her and wouldn’t settle for anything less than someone who would appreciate all the gloriousness that she was.  She met the love of her life on a blind date, got engaged a month later, married him three months after that and they lived happily ever after for just shy of 62 years when he passed away.  

Family was always first and she and my Dad instilled that into all of us kids from an early age.  She always told us girls that you “have a man in your life because you want a man in your life, not because you need a man in your life.”  She and Dad taught us girls how to stand on our own two feet and how to do things to take care of ourselves.  Not just “girly” things like housework and cooking but how to change a flat tire and change the oil in your car and yard work.  Oh heavens did they ever teach us about yardwork.  

She taught my brother that he needed to do stuff for himself because he didn’t need some woman to take care of him.  She made him take a typing class in high school so he could type his own papers when he went to college.  He learned to cook and clean, too.  His wife is very thankful to my Mom for all of that.  

She raised six kids . . . and buried two.  She loved being a mom and a grandma . . . and hounded each of her grandkids to give her great-grandkids because “I’m not getting any younger and I might not be here much longer!” . . . to which the grandkids always said “Grandma!!  I’m only (insert very young age here) and I’m not out of college yet/not married yet/not ready for kids!”  Which always made her smile . . . she was thankful the kids were strong enough to know what they wanted and wouldn’t give in to a grumpy Grandma just because she said so . . . . 

I love her with all my heart . . . and it took me until I was an adult to appreciate all the sassiness that was my glorious Mom . . . our Saturday Night Adventures after my Dad died were stuff of family legend.  The time the guy paid for our meal at Steak N Shake because we were so much fun to watch.  The time she almost “stole” batteries from the Dollar Tree because they were under her purse in the cart and she forgot to pay for them.  

She gave me the courage to face life without my beloved Prince Charming and I helped her learn how learn how to live with my Dad.  

I lost my buddy on Monday afternoon.  She had been in a relatively minor car accident on April 30.  We thought she was going to be okay.  The doctors thought she was going to be okay.  She had some underlying medical issues that weren’t serious before the accident but became more complicated after the accident.  The trauma was just too much for her little body to recover from.  

We haven’t really come to terms with the fact that she’s gone . . . making funeral arrangements today was surreal . . . how can she be gone?  Is this all a horrible dream that I’ll wake up from?  

This wonderful lady taught me many lessons in her lifetime . . . but she forgot to teach me how to live without her.  

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2,197 Days

313 weeks and 6 days . . .

72 months and 6 days . . .

6 years and 6 days . . .

It seems like he’s been gone forever . . .

It seems like he just left yesterday . . .

Rocky sometimes sits at the top of the stairs when we go to bed thinking that Daddy might come home in the middle of the night and he doesn’t want to miss him . . .

I still expect to see his car sitting on the street in front of The Little House when I come home from work . . .

There are three grandchildren that he’s never even met . . . but they are so much like him that we are sure he’s “seen” them somehow . . .

This year the anniversary of “the day” was on a Monday . . . and it was the Martin Luther King holiday . . . and I DREADED the day so much I took the day off from work expecting to stay at home . . . in bed . . . under the covers . . . wishing the day away . . .

But I got a beautiful invitation from my dear niece to go to lunch and go shoppping . . . how could I say no . . . so I got to spend the day with two of my nieces and my mom . . . shopping and laughing and enjoying the day . . .

The third week of January is still a rough week for me . . . and I’ll always dread January 20 . . . but for once it didn’t totally suck . . . maybe there’s hope for me yet.

 

 

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You Wouldn’t Understand

“You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never had kids.”

“It’s not like you have kids or anything.”

Without a doubt, those are some of the most hurtful words I’ve ever heard.

I ended a 40 year friendship because of that remark.

Hearing my XH say those words to me marked the beginning of the end of our marriage.

And today I heard them from a co-worker.   From the last person I ever thought would say such a thing.  From someone who should know better than to say something like that to a co-worker. From the HR Director.

It may have been an off-hand comment with no intention to be mean and hurtful.

But it hurt.

And it seemed mean.

She didn’t know if I was “childless by choice”

She didn’t know if I struggled with infertility and was unable to get pregnant.

She didn’t know if I was able to get pregnant but not carry a baby to term.

She didn’t know if I was able to carry a baby to term but there were complications and the baby didn’t survive.

All she knows is “No, I don’t have children” and she used that information against me to prove a point in a senseless debate that she probably won’t remember tomorrow.

But I’ll remember that conversation for a long time. And it will affect me for a long time. And it will color my relationship and all my future interactions with her and will limit what kind of personal information I choose to share with her and, possibly, other co-workers.

And that will make me seem “standoffish” and “cold” and she’ll never understand why . . .

 

 

 

 

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Filed under 2 legged kids, coping, ex-hubby, family, grief, PostADay, Stuff, Work

Crabby Appleton

Crabby Appleton is a term my mom used when we were little kids to describe our attitude when we were having a bad day . . . grumpy, in a bad mood, everything was terrible . . .

Today I was Crabby Appleton . . . in a bad mood for no apparent reason . . . everybody was twanging on my last nerve . . . everything was frustrating . . . if I didn’t know better I’d think it was PMS . . . but do post-menopausal women get PMS . . .

I saw a cartoon on FB that showed a cat as a therapist . . . asking the human patient if they had “tried pushing a bunch of shit off a table?” . . . and I laughed . . . then thought that might make me feel better . . . but I didn’t want to clean up the mess . . .

So I did the  next best thing . . . I got out the lawn mower and cut the weeds in the front yard . . . it hasn’t rained a lot here lately and the grass is dead but the weeds are still growing . . . the yard looked better . . . then I decided I needed to edge the sidewalk and the driveway because, well, weeds . . . and I have this fabulous new mower and trimmer and haven’t used them at all . . .

What do you know . . . it did make me feel better . . . the yard looks nicer . . . even though the grass is dead . . . and the sidewalk is nicely trimmed . . .

Thank you, my darling Prince Charming, for teaching me that yard work can be therapeutic . . . I’ll have to work on the back yard over the weekend . . .

 

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#DaytonStrong

I live in Ohio.  About 30 minutes east of Dayton . . . I was born in Dayton . . . Mom & Dad grew up in Dayton . . . sometimes it’s easier to tell people I’m from Dayton instead of Springfield because just about everyone knows where Dayton is . . .

Sadly, now a lot more people are going to know where Dayton is . . . but not for a good reason . . .

With that being said . . .

I’m safe . . .

My immediate family are all safe (my nieces sometimes visit The Oregon District and my brother has a band that sometimes performs at The Oregon District) . . .

But my heart is broken . . . I am sad beyond words . . . and I’m glued to the TV to watch the local coverage of the tragedy that happened in my little part of the world . . .

The Oregon District is a busy entertainment district in Dayton.  And also very well protected by the Dayton Police Department and other private security agencies.  I would never dream this would happen here.  A bar fight gone bad – yea, it’s happened.  A drug deal gone wrong – yea, probably.  A violent domestic situation – yea, could be.  But not this.  Never this.  But yea, now this . . .

Hug your loved ones tight today . . .

 

 

 

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Five Years, Six Months, One Day

This post will probably be a convoluted mess with no real point . . . pretty much like every other post . . . so hang tight, y’all . . .

Yesterday was a day I’ve been dreading . . . because I have useless stuff stuck in my head most of the time . . . and I realized that July 20, 2019 was the five and a half year mark of the day of Prince Charming’s Death . . . trying to be an optimist . . . I tried to focus on the fact that it’s also the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon mission . . . and Prince Charming LOVED all things space related (he watched the NASA channel for fun!) so I thought I could get through the day focusing on the space mission and not on Prince Charming being gone . . .

It worked . . . until I got out of bed yesterday . . . and saw that Rocky was a bit “wobbly” and having some problems getting around.  Okay, he’s 10, has arthritis and has trouble getting around sometimes but never as bad as yesterday morning.  The look on his face broke my heart.  A mix of “WTF?” and “Mom, help me!” . . . and I went straight to panic mode . . .

He was FINE when we went to bed!! WTF happened overnight!?

Maybe he has heat stroke (he’s been inside in the AC!)

Maybe he had a stroke! (oh shit!)

We go downstairs.  Millie’s noticed he’s “not right” and is tormenting him.  He’s struggling to get down the stairs.  He’s struggling to go outside.  He does his business but it’s hard for him to be steady enough to finish.

Bad word, bad word, bad word.  “Prince Charming you are NOT taking Rocky today! I need him more than you do!” was muttered under my breath a lot.  Then I called Lovely Vet and got an appointment to have him take a look at Rocky.  The appointment was at 10:30 am . . . a full two hours AFTER I first noticed the symptoms.

Rocky gave me sad eyes, didn’t want to eat his breakfast, and stayed in front of the AC vent in the kitchen.  He did get up and move around a bit and each time he was less wobbly and steadier on his feet.  I almost cancelled the appointment but decided it was better to be safe than sorry . . .

Off we go to the appointment . . . and Rocky gets into the car like a champ . . . and Rocky explores the yard at the vet’s office and hikes his leg and pees on the flowers in the vet’s flower bed . . . and struts into the vets office like the super star he is . . .

“Darn you, Rocky.  Making a liar out of me!”

I explain the problems I saw earlier today to the lovely vet tech.  He doesn’t laugh at me for being overly cautious.  Lovely vet comes in the room and doesn’t laugh at me for being overly cautious.  Lovely Vet does a full and thorough exam and determines that it’s possibly a simple arthritis flare-up.  Adjusts Rocky’s meds.  Gives him a shot of something to help ease the pain in his joints.  Tells me to come back if things get worse.

Most importantly, he tells me I wasn’t wrong for bringing Rocky to see him . . .

So I apologized to Prince Charming for thinking he wanted to take Rocky . . . when he was actually using Rocky to help me get through what I thought was going to be a rough day.

By the way . . . the added meds and the shot to help Rocky’s joints have worked wonders.  Rocky’s acting like a puppy again . . . and wants to go out to play . . . during an excessive heat warning . . .

Bless his heart

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