38 Candles Tomorrow

Yeah...hi.  I freaking hate it when I avoid this blogging bit for so long because I come back, start writing and then just verbally vomit for awhile to get myself back in the groove.

Here's an update on my life.

Steven's grandfather passed away a week ago last Thursday.  The funeral was Friday.  It brought all sorts of long buried emotions to the surface and often, I'd find myself crying right alongside Steven as he had his moments of grief.  He hadn't suffered the death of a relative since he was 16 and he's almost 41 so you do the math. 

Me?  I have lost my adoptive father, my adoptive grandfather, my natural grandfather, my sister's fiance, two of my friends' babies, my high school friend..and that's just in the past ten years.

 

When we realized that Papa was most likely not going to make a November wedding, Steven and I talked about moving up the date.  But then, a few days later, Steven went and visited Papa and told me that Papa was too weak to leave the house.  Crushed.

But we are still thinking of moving up the date.  Making it a more simpler, intimate affair with close family members and friends.  Then we'll throw a big party next year when we can plan better and renew our vows too for those guests who weren't at the first one. 

My head is swimming.  The kids are out of school tomorrow, which is also my birthday.

Image found HERE

I'm so not in the partying mood.  But I did get to see my original mom and sister this weekend.  It'd been since January and I needed them to boost my spirits which are pretty low right now, to be honest.  We're going out to eat tomorrow night to "celebrate my special day".  Ugh.  I don't mind the cards from Steven and the kids but I know my adoptive mother will give me a mushy card with "I'm so glad I'M your mother" bullshit..and some crappy ass piece of jewelry she bought on QVC at 3 in the morning. 

I sound incredibly ungrateful and maybe I am.

And maybe that's okay.

Friends

The service for my friend Brian was beautiful.  It was held at the mountain in the next town over from where we grew up.  They had a huge tent set up at the base of the mountain and it was standing room only.  Saw many of my teachers from high school and even elementary school...and many friends and classmates.  He left quite a mark on the world...one that won't soon be erased.

I'd gone to the celebration of Brian's life with my friends, Tracy and Tiffany.  We were talking about how our group of friends was such a ragtag bunch.  Tiffany said that she'd been thinking about it and realized that what bonded us together was the fact that most of our parents were highly dysfunctional..lol.  Tracy's mom died when we were 15 from cancer she'd had for several years and her dad had remarried within a year to a woman that was really difficult.  Tiffany's dad was an alcoholic and her mother was in denial.   Our friend Shannen's dad was a state cop and was very strict...heaven help us if we beeped our car horns in the driveway for Shannen...oy. My parents...well, you all know my story.   And nearly all of our other friends had issues at home as well. 

I think Tiff was right.  But even with our individual issues, we were a tight group..fiercely loyal...and to lose one of the gang just feels wrong. 

Time for wine.

The Cruelest Month

**This post may possibly be triggering re: infant death

Brian went first in early September.  A horrible car accident.  Gone in an instant.

And then just two days ago, a tiny baby...the grandson of my n-mom's best friend (who was there when C went into labor with me so many years ago) slipped from his parents' arms into the arms of the angels.

That one hit me hard because I remember going through my own miscarriage and understanding the deep pain that his mother and father are feeling.

And then tonight...as I drove home through the driving rain, my phone rang.  It was my n-sister.  My grandfather passed away this afternoon, right before she called me.  I was driving on a highway so I couldn't pull over...had to just keep driving...so I could make it to the gas station parking lot and lose my shit.  And I did...lose my shit I mean. 

This is a picture of the family as we gathered in Delaware to celebrate his 80th birthday in 2009 that first weekend together...

My grandfather's first words to me when I met him were: "You're so pretty..." as he held my hands. 

I just saw him in May...and I knew it would be the last time I did.  I'm in a deep state of grieving right now and am not really sure what to do with myself.

Resting In Pieces

The stress of the past few days has finally caught up with me.  I am in the beginning stages of a horrible head cold.  Never fails that if I’m dealing with a lot, I get sick.

It started Friday with my blowout with K, my ex’s wife.  Admittedly, not my finest moment.

Saturday was actually wonderful…went out with Steven for our 8^th anniversary to a really nice restaurant.  But that was kind of stressful too because even though I told myself I was being an idiot, I had hoped that it would have been “THE” night for a proposal.  No go.  But it was amazing to reconnect as a couple and the food was yumtastic.  I’ve had people tell me that maybe I need to propose to him…but that’s just not how I envision things to go.  And so, I wait.  Usually patiently, but sometimes, not so much.

Sunday was laid back…spent a couple hours with Maddie at my mom’s pool then watched a movie with Steven.

Yesterday, I picked up Chase from K again and aside from me asking her how things went with a response of “Fine” and a side of her infamous stink eye on the side, I was outta there.  Got home and was reading FBook and almost threw up.  One of my good friends from Kindergarten through high school died in a car accident while on vacation in Germany.  He was the first friend from school to die and I’m not quite sure how to handle it.

Makes your own mortality come zooming to the forefront of your mind. 

I immediately called two other friends that I’ve stayed in contact with since school and had to deliver the news to them because I didn’t want them to see it on FBook first.  What comforted me was telling them both at the end of the calls that I love them…and hearing them say it in return.  We may not be invincible beings, but we are human beings and feeling love was something I really needed last night.

And so, to Brian, rest in peace my friend.  You were an amazing person and I will never forget you.  We spent many a car ride home from school and Peer Leadership meetings blasting the radio, singing along to Elton John and Neil Diamond at the top of our lungs.   You were the person who coined my nickname “Steener”, said in the funny voice of our Physics teacher.  You were the one who helped me pass Geometry in our sophmore year.  You were the one who was unafraid to get up in front of the entire school and lip sync to Copacabana, dressed like Barry Manilow.  You were brilliant in life..and you are brilliant in death.

Good News and Horrible News

Let's start with the good news, shall we?

Friday night I had written my ndad on Facebook and in the course of us "talking", he asked me for my phone number again because he'd misplaced it.  No big deal, I wrote it and pressed send.  Not two minutes later, I got a response.

"Great, thanks!  I'm off to bed since I have to get up at 3:45am but I'll call you tomorrow night around 7:30...love you Dollface..."

My heart stopped.  Did he just say he was going to call???  Me???  Holy crap.

And so, at 7pm last night I went for a drive and tried to calm myself down.  Drove around town...freaking out.  Watched the clock on my car's radio obsessively...counting down the minutes.  And then...7:30 came.

And went.

No call.

I drove around for another fifteen minutes and headed home.  Got things ready to color Easter eggs with Steven and the kids and then at 8:15 just as I was pouring the vinegar into the egg cups my phone rang.

It was my father's wife.  Apparently my dad had had to work at the prison and there had been an escape so because he's on the Emergency Response Team, he'd had to work late.  He'd been frantic when he realized he wasn't going to be able to call me on time and had asked her to call me to tell me that he hadn't forgotten and that he was on his way home soon.  We chatted for a few minutes and hung up.

We colored our eggs and just as I'd finished my last one, the phone rang again.

The call was a bit awkward...neither of us really knew exactly what to say but it was enough for me to finally hear his voice.  And at the end of our twenty minute conversation, I heard the words that both lifted my spirit and broke my heart...

"I love you sweetheart..."

Steven couldn't wait to hear all about it and I told him what had been said.  And I said, "You know, it's like I finally have a father after 36 years...amazing."

Unfortunately, the horrible news now.

Yesterday my nsister came out to visit for a few hours before she headed off to an 80's party with her friends.  We had a bit of bonding time since I had to go to the store to "help" the Easter Bunny out and dragged her along.  As I drove to the store, she turned down my radio and said, "I have to drop a bombshell on you now...Mom was going to email you last night but I told her I'd talk to you today since you should hear this face to face from one of us.  Grandpa's only got three to six months to live...his heart is giving out."

I put on a brave face and we talked about driving down to Delaware to see him before he gets much weaker..but truthfully, I wanted to just pull over and cry.  I barely know my grandfather...and now, my time is limited. 

I met him for the first time back in March of 2009 when I traveled down to his 80th surprise birthday party with my nmother, n-uncle and sister and met the rest of my relatives too.  I remember walking into the restaurant that first night of the trip..watching my mother lean in and whisper to him that she'd brought Christina.  His face lit up and he searched the family for my face.  I stepped forward and gave him a hug...he hugged me back and said, "You're so beautiful...I'm so glad you're here". 

It hurts that I'll have to say goodbye before I've really had a chance to say hello. 

Mercury Rising

Did you all know that Mercury is in retrograde until Saturday?  Well, it is and all I want to do is crawl into bed and emerge on Sunday once it's over.  Here's a run down of what's been going on.

• A week ago Tuesday I was driving to work with one of my coworkers...buzzing along happily in my Jeep, talking and laughing about the fact that there is NOTHING good on the radio in the morning.  I was in the fast lane and saw a contractor's pickup truck pass us in the middle lane at a faster speed.  My coworker Chris said, "Uh oh..." and I saw five 2x4's lift up from the bed of the truck and come up into the air in front of my Jeep.  And then they made contact.  Chris had the presence of mind to write down the truck's license plate..which was good in retrospect since they took off.  I pulled over and we assessed the damage.  And folks, we were lucky.  Very, very lucky.  The only thing that happened was that one of the boards knocked my license plate loose.  I mean, you hear these horrible stories of people getting decapitated by flying metal and wood on the highways and honestly, if some of the boards hadn't flown over my roof, I'm not sure what the hell would have happened.

• One of my other coworkers and one of the managers each lost their fathers this week within one day of each other.  I just went to one of the wakes tonight after work.  It was so difficult to go into the funeral home and have to view the casket.  The last funeral I was at was my grandfather's...and before that, my adoptive father's.  It will never get easier.  I still miss my grandfather...and still wish that my father was alive..if only so I could get the chance to tell him how much of an asshole he really was.  Lol..nah...I don't have any issues, right?

• Yet another coworker lost one of her good friends last week...in a house fire.  She died with her mother by her side...leaving behind her father, two brothers, sister-in-law and best friend, and her nephew.  She was only 23.

• Yesterday, my natural mom texted me and told me that her father, my grandfather, is in the hospital.  He's had heart problems and he'd gotten really weak and my step-grandmother couldn't get him up and had to call the ambulance.  I'm really scared that something is going to happen to him...and yet, I still feel like an outsider, like I don't have "the right" to care as much as I do since I only met him 2 years ago.

Wake me up on Sunday...I can't handle all the heartache that my friends and family are dealing with. 

30 Days of Truth ~ Day Six

Day 6: Something you hope you never have to do.

I have already done something I hoped to never do....suffered a miscarriage. I wasn't very far along in the pregnancy, but it was traumatic nonetheless.  I think about that child to this day, he or she would be fourteen years old now. 

But like many of the other participants, my true answer to this one is a simple one. I hope never to bury a child. 

My amother told me the below story in its entirety while I was pregnant with Madelyn.  I wish she hadn't.

Back in the mid 60's, my a-uncle and a-aunt had a baby...their first child.  She was eight months old and was napping in an upstairs bedroom of my grandparents' house while a family barbecue was going on.  My aunt went inside to check on her and moments later started screaming.  From what my amother said, the screams were the worst she'd ever heard.

Both of my uncles rushed into the house to see what was going on and they found my aunt holding my limp cousin out to my uncle.  He performed CPR (or whatever it was called back in the 60's) on the baby but she was already gone.  Not sure if SIDS was recognized back then, but that is most likely what claimed her life. 

We used to drive past her tiny grave on our way to the family plot for the yearly flower planting and I've often wonder how my a-aunt survived the loss of that baby.  Just horrifying. 

July 11th..A Double Edged Sword

Last year I blogged about what July 11th means to me...here's the link to that post:

July 11, 2008 ~ The Day My World Stood Still

A day later and I blogged an entirely different post...

July 11, 2009 ~ The Day The World Stood Still For My Sister

Today has been rough...today instead of celebrating my reunion with my natural family...I am grieving for my sister who is still in mourning.

*Updated (Again)* A Plea for Help

One of my former managers needs your thoughts and prayers today…about a month ago, she found out she had an aggressive form of lung cancer (never smoked a day in her life) and that it had spread to her lymph nodes. A few days ago she went in for surgery to remove the tumor from one of her lungs and they ended up having to remove it. She now has pneumonia and was placed on life support. Everyone is just devastated by the news and at this point, our hope is that if the end is coming, that it comes quickly.

Could you all just take a minute and offer her up in your prayers and thoughts? Thank you my bloggity friends..

Linda..I am praying for you.

*Update*  Just found out that they had to insert a catheter into one side of Linda's heart because it wasn't functioning properly.  Her liver is not working well and neither are her kidneys.  They're starting dialysis as well.

*Updated (Again)*  Linda passed away yesterday (May 12th) at the age of 50.  She was a vibrant, compassionate, beautiful person and will be missed by all who knew her.  Thank you all for your kind prayers and thoughts.

The End

I was at work this morning when my asister Cindy called me.  She told me that she was on her way out to the nursing home to see our grandfather..that he has pneumonia again, his heart rate was elevated and his oxygen levels low. 

Now, my grandfather is 96 years old...and has survived numerous bouts of pneumonia the past several years.  He's been to the brink of death each time and has rebounded...surprising us and his doctors and caregivers.  Cindy was careful to tell me though that this time the atmosphere was different.  According to our mom, the nurses kept coming in and asking her if she needed anything and giving her spontaneous hugs...

I stayed at work until four and then headed up to the nursing home.  My mom and two uncles were there, keeping vigil.  The moment I saw Bumpa, I knew.  There would be no miraculous recovery this time...and in fact, the Head Nurse came in and told us that they couldn't give Bumpa antibiotics for his pneumonia..that he'd choke on it and make it worse.  The only other option was to give him the medicine via I.V.  but that would have gone against Bumpa's wishes and so, we just waited. 

Cindy was home at this point, checking in every so often to see how we were holding up.  Steven was taking care of the kids, knowing that I needed to be with my family...worried about us all.  I skipped home for an hour to change my clothes and my rapidly drying out contacts (and to snarf down a bagel) then rushed back so we could continue to hurry up and wait. 

The morphine was administered...vitals checked...chit chat was passed around the room.  All the while, we watched my grandfather sleep...seemingly comfortable for the moment.

Around 11pm, the night nurse in charge of Bumpa's care arrived.  She'd heard that his health was failing and was quick to bustle around his room, wiping off his mouth with a moist washcloth, adjusting his pillows, telling us all how very sorry she was and how she loved to hear him sing every time she came in to see him.

After a bit, my uncles wandered down to the small kitchen on my grandfather's floor.  Cindy called just then and we were talking when his nurse came in to check his temperature and said in an alarmed voice, "It's 103!  Let's take off this heavy blanket..."  Just as she went to pull the blanket down I looked at Bumpa. 

"Mom..he's not moving...I think he's gone....".  I heard Cindy gasp on the other end of the phone.

"Dad...DAD!  Dad..I love you!!  I love you!!", Mom sobbed.

The nurse ran out to get one of her coworkers and I ran down to get my uncles.  I think they knew what had happened when they saw my face but I had to say it...

"He's passed...he's gone...". 

My grandfather lived 96 years...he had a beautiful wife, who was struck down when she was 67 by a massive heart attack.  Three children...seven grandchildren...twelve great grandchildren...and many close friends and relatives.  He was a fighter...a stubborn ol' Yankee as he liked to proclaim himself.  A lover of horses and golf and riding around his backyard on his lawnmower with one of his grandchildren sitting on the seat in front of him. 

After my grandmother died when I was seven, he struggled to fill her role in the family.  He never forgot a birthday...always calling and sending cards...showing up one day when I was home with the flu, bringing ginger ale for me..just like Grammy used to.

He filled her role with amazing grace and I will miss his smile forever.