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My father is so full of love and kindness. He’d give the shirt off his back to anyone and has been a constant source of love and encouragement in my adult life. He had a liver transplant and survived and then thrived, About a month ago he had open heart surgery and they found that he had cancer. My father is not able to work currently and he needs help.
I would be eternally grateful if you could give us a hand. Thanks in advance! If you can’t donate, please share!
My uncle passed away last week. Yesterday was his funeral. I walked into the funeral home and there he was. They did an excellent job. He looked like he was asleep and peaceful. My brain is still having a hard time taking it in. I just saw him on Thanksgiving. I suppose if I had seen the casket close it would have sunk in but I didn’t because Jack was being two at the very end when Uncle Roger was praying and I took him out.
They had everyone come up at hug Grandma apparently and I watched them as they filed out. My mother came out and was crying but trying to keep it together. I almost cried then. Then my son Max came out and he was crying pretty hard so we just pulled him into our group hug and held each other for a moment. Then I took him out to his father and we hugged again.
It really hit me about two o’clock this morning. Jack has been burning up with a fever and I was in my bed with him trying to get him to drink something I had put medicine in.
Uncle Ronnie loved children and they loved him back. When Max was a little younger than Jack we stayed with Grandma and Uncle Ronnie for a short time. When I went to work Max would stay with Aunt Nancy, Grandma, and Uncle Ronnie and he loved it out there. Uncle Ronnie always said hello to the kids and asked how they were doing. He would laugh at their stories and jokes. He would tell Max jokes and Max thought they were the funniest thing ever. They would both laugh like crazy.
After the service, we all headed back to Grandma’s house. They had pictures of him all over. His eyes twinkled when he was happy. His chair was covered in a bright blanket. It was painfully empty. I can hardly remember a time when he wasn’t in that chair or on the porch at Grandma’s.
I feel sad because we miss him and more sad because my family is hurting but I’m mostly glad that he isn’t in pain anymore.
I will be 32 in November.
In November I will be 32. I will be very nearly divorced. Again.
Part of me is angry that I let this happen. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen. I guess I just hoped we would be able to live in peace. I only want peace.
I suppose that you could say that I am depressed. I am also more angry than I thought possible and more than that I am devastatingly sad. I am sad that another child’s heart will break and it is, at least in part, my fault.
I try to be happy but it feels more like a destination that I am currently unable to reach. I have these fleeting glimpses, postcards, of this future happiness that I am not entirely sure I will get to.
I am reading Open House. It not helping. It makes me feel numb. It’s too much to feel for both of us. I should have known better than to trust Oprah.
He is happy every day. He buys himself toys. He spends time looking at women that I never want to be. He grills. He looks down on me because I make less money than he does as if it is a mark against my character. As if I am somehow less worthy than he is. He tells me lies for his amusement.
I hate him but I know that is temporary. I can’t hate long term.
I love him and I hope that it is temporary.
I want to bury myself in a hole, an earthen womb, and never come out. Instead, I push forward. I look at houses for rent. I look at furniture. I calculate and recalculate how much money I will have and how much I will need. I look at catalogs and try to decorate these imaginary places. I look at cruises and airfare. I envision myself as a world traveler. A female Indiana Jones. My mother.
In November I will be 32.
In the past, I dealt with these things by drinking great quantities of whiskey, smoking clove cigarettes, and laughing hysterically with Meg. I can’t even do that now. I suppose it’s better if I don’t. Ms. Indiana Jones can’t be climbing mountains and exploring ruins with emphysema or cirrhosis of the liver.
I’ll be honest. I piss people off.
I know I do. I’m what my son calls a geek/nerd. I love technology. I am anti-social. I like Star Trek, Star Wars, star things of all varieties, Hobbits, Elves, Orcs, Fantasy, and even what my husband calls “funny talkin’ British” doctors.
I used to think I was conservative, but I was wrong. I ain’t even close. (I’m so not conservative that I had to use the word “ain’t” to tell you that.) I am an unapologetic Obama lover/supporter. I believe that he believes the same things that I do.
I’ve said all this because in my family this stuff is weird and not acceptable. Recently, it has come to my brain through a series of events and a snide comment from a family member that my family NEEDS me. They need me to be open, honest, and vocal about what I believe. When they are blatantly homophobic I have no choice but to educate them. In the future there will be homosexual members of our family and they will need love and support. They do not need hateful comments about pedophilia and going to Hell.
I’ve been quiet about it in the past because I didn’t want to make waves. However, it might have been cowardice. I have never seen such severe homophobia in the world as I do with my own family. I doubt that the majority of my family has ever had a close friend who was gay. Here’s what I want them to know:
- You do not choose to be gay. I didn’t choose to be straight.
- Being gay is not a perversion.
- Homosexuals are not pedophiles seeking to rape your boys.
- Homosexuality is actually seen in nature all the time. (Visit the Giraffes at Busch Gardens. They are all boys. Very horny boy giraffes.)
- Homosexuals do not recruit. It isn’t a club. You don’t get points.
For more myths about homosexuality you can visit the Southern Family Law Center, Ya’ll.
If you need help or support because you are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or trangendered please remember that helps is out there. I love you. You are loved and things will get better.
When I think about the last two years I try to tell myself about the good times, but to be honest the majority of the times were a complete nightmare. Never before have I been so completely aware of how a person felt about me. Never before have I had to fight so hard to receive so very little in return.
I haven’t been able to blog in a long time. I haven’t had anything nice to say. I haven’t felt like I was part of the world anymore. Nothing was more obvious than the fact that my opinion was unnecessary.
I feel sad that all of the beauty that was captured could have just as easily been shared in a one night stand.
Meg says I need to get my groove back. To be honest, I don’t even know if I want it back.
This weekend I saw The Avengers. It was, in a word, AWESOME. (It has to be all caps. It’s THAT good.)
After the movie, I went to Red Robin. It was good. I had their Blue Cheese burger minus those foul onion straws. (BLECH.) I also had one Cinco de Mayo Ultimate Margarita. It was good.
After reading the previous paragraphs I have begun to realize that I sound like the first chapters of Genesis. Sorry. I had no sleep last night. I have been majorly stressed out and worked up. Every single time I got close to sleep my brain would shout “…BUT WHAT IF THIS NEW AND HORRIBLE THING HAPPENS?” This would prompt another half an hour of planning for the worst in my head.
Tonight, there will be Melatonin. There will be warm milk. There will be sleep.
A long while back I went to Burger Monger on Dale Mabry, in Tampa. It had some wonderful points, but it had many things I thought needed to be fixed.
Last week, I went back to the Burger Monger. I loved it. The wonderful service and good quality beef were the same. The were a few improvements though including:
- Improved buns. (The old ones stuck to your teeth.)
- Improved service time.
- Amazing tomatoes.
If you tried Burger Monger when they first opened I would suggest you try them again.
A few weeks ago my friend posted an article about Arizona declaring women pregnant two weeks before conception.
I suggested that the nurses in Arizona explain the the politicians there how babies are made.
My friend Nicole did some research and here’s what we know now about baby makin’.
Well fine you guys let me explain to you where babies come from & why this sort of law is needed & long overdue. When a mommy & daddy love each other very much they share a special kind of hug but about two weeks before that Jesus (who knows the future so is really good about planning ahead) files the appropriate paperwork in Heaven for a baby to be created. It takes 7-10 business days to process baby paperwork because Heaven is really shorthanded. Once the paperwork has been approved & filed in the cloud file cabinets in Heaven’s DFO (Dept of Fertilized Ovum) the task is assigned to an Angel case worker who flies down from Heaven to implant the soon to be baby in the mommy’s tummy with about a 50% ovum viability success rate (Angels can be real butterfingers!). Therefore obviously you need to start counting when Jesus files the paperwork NOT when the Angels pop that egg baby in there. This is simply biology fact science that Arizona is following here.
I am about to head to bed. I don’t feel well, but it could be that Jack was extra fussy tonight. He has a cold and he’s just worn out.
At any rate, I was going through my timeline and I noticed that my interests are very strange in comparison to what they were a few years ago.
I am currently posting a bunch about:
- World of Warcraft
- Dancing With The Stars
I am getting nerdier as I get older.