Category Archives: Prince Charming

#singlegirllife

Over the past four years, I’ve learned to adapt to the #singlegirllife . . . but since I didn’t really have a choice or a say in the matter I jumped in with both feet and hoped for the best.

I discovered the joy of not having a routine for household chores.  If I want to change up the grocery day, it didn’t upset anyone . . . except when I ran out of dog treats for Rocky and Millie.  If I want to do laundry at 7 am on a Sunday (yea, it’s happened), then I can without fear of waking anyone up.

If I want to go to The Big City on a Saturday morning and visit the local needlework shop, I can do that . . . as long as I don’t stay gone too long and make it home in time to give supper to the puppies.

I discovered the joy of choosing whatever I wanted for supper.  If I wanted to eat Cap’n Crunch over the sink with a glass of chocolate milk for supper . . . that’s what I had.  If I wanted to grab tacos from Taco Bell on the way home from work because it’s cheaper than cooking them myself . . . I headed to the drive-thru.  If I wanted to eat spaghetti four days in a row . . . I ate spaghetti four days in a row.

I learned that I can do the yard work myself . . . even though I don’t really enjoy it.

I learned that I can handle making decisions about home improvement or home repairs relatively intelligently . . . even though the entire process brings out massive amounts of anxiety and triggers a horrible panic attack.

I bought a car.  I bought a washer.  I bought a computer.  I bought furniture.  All things I’ve never done before and had no idea the amount of detail and research involved in such purchases.

I’ve learned that I can stand on my own two feet.  I haven’t lost the house.  The utilities haven’t been turned off.  I haven’t killed the dogs.  I’m not broke.  All things XH predicted would happen within six months after the divorce . . . and it’s been 7 years . . .

But there is one thing that I am struggling with.  Something so small and insignificant that it makes me laugh that I’m having a problem with it.  The #singlegirllife means that you are the one that takes care of you when you’re sick.  I have the flu.  I very mild case with some general muscle and joint aches, some severe tiredness, and a stupid headache that won’t go away.  I’m feel like poop . . . and I’m cranky . . . and I want someone to bring me soup, bring me tea, snuggle on the couch with me while I nap . . . and there isn’t anyone here to do that.  Sure, Rocky and Millie do their best but without opposable thumbs, they pretty much suck in the food prep department . . .

Yea, there are some other really bad drawbacks to this #singlegirllife . . . but today this is the one that’s really pissing me off . . .

And, yes, I’ve said more than once to no one in particular but directed at Prince Charming . . . I really hate your ass right now . . .

 

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Longest Week EVER

Today was my first full week at work since December 19 . . . with Christmas break, the MLK holiday and snow days caused by the horrible weather we had early this month I’ve only worked two or three days a week for almost a month.  It was heavenly.  Until this week . . . no holiday, no snow days, and the anniversary of Prince Charming’s death all conspired to make this a long awful week for me . . . I am thankful that it’s over . . .

But there are things that made my heart happy this week . . ..

I figured out the 5k races I’ll be doing this year . . .

I finalized my vacation schedule for this year . . . three cross stitch retreats and a trip to Florida . . .

Rocky seems to be responding well to the meds for his arthritis.  His “slow getting up in the morning” turned into a significant limp and I took him to visit Lovely Vet to have it checked out.  Turns out the limp was a sprain of some sort and the “slow getting up in the morning” is probably arthritis . . . “he is getting older, you know” is how Lovely Vet described it to me.

The school where I work is installing new playground equipment for the little kids (k-2) that moved into our building earlier this year.  I’ve gotten to watch the workers install the equipment with great delight . . . I’m going to swing on the swings and go down the slide this summer during my lunch hour!!  Today’s highlight was watching a bobcat expert move a huge pile of mulch from the staging area to the playground area.  It was fascinating!

So now I’m headed to the couch with my dessert of choice to watch “Friday Night Frasier” on Netflix . . .

Even during the darkest weeks, life is good . . .

 

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So Much For Flying Under The Radar

January 20 is a sucky day for me . . . it’s the anniversary of the day that Prince Charming left this Earth.  I probably shouldn’t focus/obsess over the date but I can’t help it.  It’s the day my life changed forever . . . through no fault of my own and not necessarily in a good way . . .

Last year about Christmas time I realized that January 20 was also Inauguration Day.  The day we got a new president.  A day full of all the pomp and circumstance and ceremony . . . stuff that I normally love.  Yes, I’m a patriotic geek.  I live for this kind of stuff . . . and suddenly I realized that one of my favorite events was going to be happening on my most un-favorite day.

Shitdamnhellfuck . . .

So I put on my big girl panties and dealt with it.  I was able, somehow, to separate the two events and keep them separate . . . as long as I forgot that the date was January 20 . . . it wasn’t easy but I did it.

I got through that day . . . like I’ve gotten through a bunch of other terrible, awful, horrible, very bad days (bonus points if you get the reference in that sentence).  By putting one foot in front of the other.

I was home today because the school I work for is closed for the Martin Luther King holiday (another day that kinda sucks for me because the day Prince Charming left was also Martin Luther King Day) . . . and I heard something that took my breath away . . . something I was totally not expecting or prepared for . . .

“January 20 is the one year anniversary of President Donald Trump’s inauguration.”  Said by one of the hosts of CBS This Morning . . .

Shitdamnhellfuck . . .

Just when I thought that I was going to be able to have that day fly under the radar . . . I got Gibbs slapped (bonus points if you get THAT reference) up side my head . . .

The next few days are gonna suck . . .

On a positive note . . . I’ve also learned that Saturday, January 20 the Cincinnati Zoo is having a first birthday party for media darling Fiona . . . for my favorite hippo . . .

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November 6

Today is Monday . . . I hate Mondays . . .

Especially the Monday after the Fall Time Change . . . the kids at school seem to have more energy and are a little more irritating . . .

It gets dark early . . . the security lights on the garage came on tonight at 5:30 . . . it’s dark enough for security lights at 5:30 pm . . . makes for a very long night . . .

I went to dinner like I always do on Monday night.  Tonight’s dinner choice was a restaurant that is offering me free bagels every day this month.  I feel guilty if I go in just for the free bagel so I bought dinner there tonight.  The soup and salad combo I usually get is very yummy . . . and since it’s on the chilly side here the warm soup was comforting.

All in all, it was an irritating Monday but not a Bad Monday . . .

Then the server behind the counter called the name for the next customer to pick up their order.  The name they called out was the same name as Prince Charming’s name.  My heart skipped a beat and I did a double take to see who would answer to that name.  The guy didn’t look anything like Prince Charming . . . but I did give him a warm smile because he caught me staring at him.

Big Sigh . . . back to my yummy soup and sandwich . . .

I must be making progress because instead of focusing on unexpectedly hearing Prince Charming’s name tugging on my heart strings, I’m excited about the 99 cent cookie and the free bagel

Any Monday with a free bagel can’t be all bad . . .

 

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Hachiko

Hachiko, was an Akita dog that belonged to a professor at the University of Tokyo. Every day he would meet his master at Shibuya Station until one day in 1925 when the professor never returned. Unbeknownst to Hachiko, his master had suffered a fatal brain hemorrhage and would never come home again.

Over the years, I’ve heard the story of Hachiko and thought it was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time.  The poor dog never understood why his human never returned . . . and spent his life waiting for him . . .

After Prince Charming died, I saw a real life example of the devotion that Hachiko showed for his human . . . Rocky never understood why Prince Charming never came home.  He sat at the door that first night waiting for the car to pull up in front of the house and Prince Charming to come and “rassle” with him.  When I finally went to bed that night, Rocky sat at the top of the stairs sure that Prince Charming would be home shortly and he didn’t want to miss him.  It shattered my already broken my heart.

It went on for a many weeks after the funeral, Rocky would walk through the house wondering where Prince Charming could be.  He’d sit at the front door, or outside at the gate, waiting for the car to pull up in front of the house.  He’d sit at the top of the stairs every night and rush down them first thing in the morning expecting to find Prince Charming at his seat at the kitchen table.  Every time it happened it shattered my already broken heart.

After a while, Rocky’s vigils got fewer and farther between.  I would find him occasionally sitting at the gate or at the front door just looking at nothing in particular.  Or sitting at the top of the stairs when I would say good night to him and tell him I’m going to bed.  Each time it happened it shattered my broken but somewhat healing heart . . .

Fast forward to this weekend . . . for some reason Rocky has started his vigil again.  And it’s breaking my broken but somewhat healing heart.

I guess I’ve gotten used to the hole in my heart and my life from where Prince Charming should be.  It’s usually when someone else tells me how much they miss him and the big hole in their heart and life his death has left that I totally fall to pieces.  But when Prince Charming’s beloved Rock Lobster (his nickname for Rocky) shows me that he misses Prince Charming, too, it turns me into a puddle of snot.  And I can’t really do that because it upsets Millie to see me cry so much . . . it’s just a damn vicious circle.

I think the people who told me that this gets easier over time lied to me.  This shit never gets any easier because it jumps out of left field and strangles the shit out of you.

 

 

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I Thought I Could Do This

Right after Prince Charming was killed, I wanted to stay in bed, under the covers, and wish the world would go away.  But . . . I had to work to keep a roof over my head, keep the dogs fed, keep the dogs healthy, keep paying the bills and keep up appearances that I was “okay” . . . even if I wasn’t.

The one year anniversary came around and, once again, I wanted to stay in bed, under the covers and wish the world would go away.  But I took a day off instead and did stuff that wouldn’t remind me of him or have me constantly remember the date (I wrote the the date a lot at my old job at the mental health place).  I had to keep up appearances that I was “okay” . . . even if I wasn’t.

The two year anniversary came around and, even though I wanted badly to wish the world away again, I had started a new job just shy of two weeks before the anniversary.  I couldn’t tell my new boss that I needed a day off to stay home with my head under the covers wishing the world away.  My co-worker was facing the loss of her father that particular week and I was “holding down the fort” and keeping up appearances that I was “okay” . . . and thinking that maybe I just might be okay.

Sometime after the two year anniversary I realized that the three year anniversary would be a bigger challenge . . . because the country would be celebrating a new president.  The anniversary date of Prince Charming’s death happens to be Inauguration Day.  Every four years the country will be having a big party on a day that broke my heart.

Over the past few weeks, here are some of the things I’ve heard . . .
On January 20, we will hit the ground running and . . .
When President Obama leaves office on January 20 . . .
Mrs. Trump will not be moving into the White House on January 20 . . .
When Mr. Trump takes office on January 20 . . .
Join us for coverage of the Inauguration on January 20 . . .
When the sentence running through my brain is . . .
Prince Charming, 51, of Springfield, Ohio, left us unexpectedly, Monday, January 20, 2014.
Yup.  You guessed it.  I want to stay in bed, under the covers, and wish the world would go away.  But I can’t.  I have to do my best to show that I’m “okay” . . .
Even when I’m not . . . and I’d really rather not play that game this year . . .

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Let’s Put On Big Girl Panties

I have a sensitivity to pictures of car crashes.  I think that it’s horrible that news websites post these kinds of pictures on their websites and their social media sites.  I’m very vocal about how difficult these pictures are for family members and loved ones of the victims to see.  I’m forever asking some news site or another to consider the feelings of those near and dear to the victims and to take down the picture.  Sadly they never do.

My comments often start interesting discussions with others about how they agree that the pictures are hurtful and serve no purpose.  There are discussions with others who think that I’m too sensitive and should just “not look” at the pictures.

Today was one of those days.  There was a fatal accident in the little town where Prince Charming and I grew up.  The local newspaper posted a picture of the car involved but said they wouldn’t identify the victims pending “notification of the next of kin.”

I posted my usual comment requesting that the picture be taken down.  I explained about Prince Charming’s accident and explained how thankful that the local news agencies where he died did not publish any pictures of his accident.  I asked that these grieving families be given the same consideration.

Let’s just say a discussion ensued . . . some people agreed with me . . . some people did not.  One young lady commented suggested that I “put on big girl panties” . . .

Oh honey you do not want to go down that path with me.  Not after I’ve suffered through the third Christmas without Prince Charming by my side.  Not when the anniversary of Prince Charming’s death is a mere two weeks away.  Oh hell to the no . . .

I wanted to say all of the things that you will read next but I remembered something I read about not arguing with idiots because they bring you down to their level and beat you with experience. This is what I wanted to say but didn’t because the person in question is very young, has no life experience, and has no idea what she’s talking about . . .

Dear Young Lady . . .

I put on big girl panties . . . when two troopers came to where I work and told me that the man I loved more than anything else in this world (and had loved for almost 40 years) was dead.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I had to tell his son, his brother, and his mother that he had been killed.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I had to try to explain to our two dogs why Daddy wasn’t ever coming home again.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I had to make arrangements for his funeral . . . and I had no idea what type of service he wanted.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I dealt with the vile, evil, hurtful things that his ex-wife and her daughter thought I “needed to know” about the “perfect man” that had been dead less than 24 hours.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I stood next to his closed casket for three hours while the seemingly never ending line of mourners told me how sorry they were for my loss, how wonderful he had been to them, how sad they were that they would never hear his laugh or see his smile again

I put on big girl panties . . . when I stood at the side of his grave and realized I had to let them put his body in the cold ground.  And I had to walk away and start a new life without him.

I put on big girl panties . . . when I dealt with OSHA, a wrongful death claim, a criminal case against the man that killed him, and settling his estate . . . all at the same time.

I put on big girl panties . . . every day single day that I have to live without him.

In the big scheme of things, a picture on a website probably isn’t that big of a deal.  But to a grieving person it is a huge deal.  It’s a reminder of what you’ve lost.  It’s a reminder of how much your life changed, through no fault of your own, in the blink of an eye.

And, sadly, there are more than a few people who don’t understand that.  They won’t understand that until they go through it themselves.  And we, the grieving, pray daily that nobody ever has to join this club that no one wants to be a part of.

 

 

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