Wednesday, September 17, 2008
A NEW DAY
I will be putting this blog on hold for a while. Something happened around the one year deadline of Rachel's death. Grief lifted. I cannot explain it, except to say that while I think of her every day, I can see the possibility of living without her in my world. I have had no "visitations" or dreams, and I have sought them out. I guess I am meant to go on. I love you, darling. Rest in peace
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Cyd's Comments
I am sitting here in tears after reading your blog. Everything you have
written there speaks of your love and your faith. I am glad that you
have had so many visitations from Rachel. I had one of the 29th, as I
believe I had emailed you about. I have not heard her sing since she
passed away and I am glad that she has sang for you. She had the most
glorious voice.
I thought I would share something with you that happened in 1974. As you
might or might remember my telling you, I had a near death ( as they
call them ) experience. I died from a poisonous acorn from that oak tree
that you have told me is now gone. It was a very windy storm and it
knocked some acorns off the tree and sent them into the back yard ---
where lots of apples had been knocked off the tree. Aunt Juanita and I
had gathered up the apples and put them on the back porch.
I came down with pneumonia and oranges costing too dear and with a
gazillion apples there for the taking, I brought up some apples to that
little bedroom in between the others. But I mistook a green acorn ( they
are poisonous in that state but are edible when ripe ) for a little
green apple. I took one bite of it. I had my NDE and when I came back
there was the acorn ( it had tasted horrible ) that had been spit out. I
could tell you the story of Snow White and how that relates to this but
that could be for another day.
Anyway, I went to heaven, I heard the laughter of angels, I heard their
song and danced for them. And there were streets of gold that one could
see through. There is so much light and so much beauty and so much love.
And no, it is not humanly possible to describe any of it. It might sound
like I am describing it but I am not. Words fail. But our loved ones,
including your precious Rachel, are there. We still have our missions
here to fulfill and we might not even know what they are but God's
perfect will does.
The day that I died and Jesus broght me back from the dead was NOVEMBER
11. I call it my "phoenix day" as the phoenix is the symbol of death and
rebirth. As is the butterfly. So Rachel was always so very special for
me. And she still is.
To dance in the rainbow and to fly among the stars, walk on golden
streets as clear as glass. To sing with the angels, to see our loved
ones again, to spend eternity with them in joy unspeakable around the
throne of God praising our Maker and our Redeemer. No, we can not
imagine it but we do have tiny gliumpshes of it. How frail we are as
humans, how torn by our grief and our needs. And He is our Comfort and
our Stay.
God bless you Libby for these tears your beautiful and heartfelt words
have given me.
God bless you.
Cyd
Thank you, Cyd. I couldn't muster up anything to write today, luckily Cyd could. I have posted her comments here.
written there speaks of your love and your faith. I am glad that you
have had so many visitations from Rachel. I had one of the 29th, as I
believe I had emailed you about. I have not heard her sing since she
passed away and I am glad that she has sang for you. She had the most
glorious voice.
I thought I would share something with you that happened in 1974. As you
might or might remember my telling you, I had a near death ( as they
call them ) experience. I died from a poisonous acorn from that oak tree
that you have told me is now gone. It was a very windy storm and it
knocked some acorns off the tree and sent them into the back yard ---
where lots of apples had been knocked off the tree. Aunt Juanita and I
had gathered up the apples and put them on the back porch.
I came down with pneumonia and oranges costing too dear and with a
gazillion apples there for the taking, I brought up some apples to that
little bedroom in between the others. But I mistook a green acorn ( they
are poisonous in that state but are edible when ripe ) for a little
green apple. I took one bite of it. I had my NDE and when I came back
there was the acorn ( it had tasted horrible ) that had been spit out. I
could tell you the story of Snow White and how that relates to this but
that could be for another day.
Anyway, I went to heaven, I heard the laughter of angels, I heard their
song and danced for them. And there were streets of gold that one could
see through. There is so much light and so much beauty and so much love.
And no, it is not humanly possible to describe any of it. It might sound
like I am describing it but I am not. Words fail. But our loved ones,
including your precious Rachel, are there. We still have our missions
here to fulfill and we might not even know what they are but God's
perfect will does.
The day that I died and Jesus broght me back from the dead was NOVEMBER
11. I call it my "phoenix day" as the phoenix is the symbol of death and
rebirth. As is the butterfly. So Rachel was always so very special for
me. And she still is.
To dance in the rainbow and to fly among the stars, walk on golden
streets as clear as glass. To sing with the angels, to see our loved
ones again, to spend eternity with them in joy unspeakable around the
throne of God praising our Maker and our Redeemer. No, we can not
imagine it but we do have tiny gliumpshes of it. How frail we are as
humans, how torn by our grief and our needs. And He is our Comfort and
our Stay.
God bless you Libby for these tears your beautiful and heartfelt words
have given me.
God bless you.
Cyd
Thank you, Cyd. I couldn't muster up anything to write today, luckily Cyd could. I have posted her comments here.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Sing a New Song
Today I was trying to frantically to see the CD that the girls and their stepmother, Kathy made for Rachel's services. They did a beautiful job. I have been avoiding it because it makes me cry, and I wanted to be alone to wail to the heavens. I tried the TV in the bedroom, but I couldn't get it to work, I tried the TV in Chris's room, ditto, another TV in John's lair, I couldn't find the remote, and the TV in the living room would only loop the intro over and over. I was finally able to get the TV in the bedroom to show the video, which is in color with sound normally, but today was in black and white, with no sound.
But, isn't that how it is? You would think with four TV's I could get one to work. No luck. But black and white with no color was enough for me, as long as I could see Rachel. I think that is how this life is. Black and white. We don't even have a clue as to what eternity holds. How could we describe sound to someone who has never heard, or color to those who can't see? How can our finite and limited minds know what is in store for those who love God? We can't. I do not understand heaven, eternity, or God. I know that my daughter has gone from this earthly life, but I cannot grasp where she is.
There are glimpses. Maybe they are all in my mind. Maybe, I am making them up, but it is so different from anything I have made up before. I feel Rachel, I see her, sometimes, when I am really lucky I hear her, but I cannot feel her. For the past few months nearly every time I have a "visitation" it is regarding music.
I see Rachel singing. The first time was when I heard of Sabrina's death. I saw Sabrina and Rachel singing "Me and Bobby McGee". They were on a park bench in a forest and they were singing LOUD and tossing their heads around, with their hair flying and stomping their feet.
I have seen her with Elvis (yes, Presley) and with my dad. Oh, it was wonderful to see my dad again.
On July 28th, I was at my cousin Louise's ranch. We, meaning me, Louise, cousin Patty, her husband, and their relatives from Italy, cousin Howard, Howard's wife and daughter's and I were all singing karaoke. It was just as expected, fun, enthusiastic and amateurish. I was standing between Patty and Louise when we started singing "Let it be", and then Rachel joined us. She was across the room, but then she came and stood between me and Patty and started singing with us. I started to cry and Patty held me closer and Rachel stayed for much of the song and then she was gone.
It is hard not to be filled with mind-numbing grief during these visitations, but Rachel is always happy and mischievous, and that gives me comfort. I feel like I am a heathen, my faith is so shaken and shallow. I want to live for my other girls, but I want to die to see Rachel again. I told Rachel that I wanted to die to see her. I felt quilty even saying it, because I think I should want to die to be with Jesus, but I want to die to be with Rachel. When I said that, I saw her motion to me, and then say "Come on in, the water's fine." This reminded me of the song "Come to the Waters" And Jesus said, "Come to the waters, stand by my side, I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied, I felt every teardrop when in darkness you cried, and I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
There is a big part of me that wants to move on with my life. I want to move on from this grief, and get on with the rest of my life. I want to get in shape, and sing and dance. I want to get a new job, and wish I could live with no job. But, the grief still seems to numb me and keep me down on my knees. Rachel, I love you baby. It is time to run, and dance and sing with you. I know I can only see the black and white, but it won't be long before I will be with you and sing with the angels and dance in the rainbow.
But, isn't that how it is? You would think with four TV's I could get one to work. No luck. But black and white with no color was enough for me, as long as I could see Rachel. I think that is how this life is. Black and white. We don't even have a clue as to what eternity holds. How could we describe sound to someone who has never heard, or color to those who can't see? How can our finite and limited minds know what is in store for those who love God? We can't. I do not understand heaven, eternity, or God. I know that my daughter has gone from this earthly life, but I cannot grasp where she is.
There are glimpses. Maybe they are all in my mind. Maybe, I am making them up, but it is so different from anything I have made up before. I feel Rachel, I see her, sometimes, when I am really lucky I hear her, but I cannot feel her. For the past few months nearly every time I have a "visitation" it is regarding music.
I see Rachel singing. The first time was when I heard of Sabrina's death. I saw Sabrina and Rachel singing "Me and Bobby McGee". They were on a park bench in a forest and they were singing LOUD and tossing their heads around, with their hair flying and stomping their feet.
I have seen her with Elvis (yes, Presley) and with my dad. Oh, it was wonderful to see my dad again.
On July 28th, I was at my cousin Louise's ranch. We, meaning me, Louise, cousin Patty, her husband, and their relatives from Italy, cousin Howard, Howard's wife and daughter's and I were all singing karaoke. It was just as expected, fun, enthusiastic and amateurish. I was standing between Patty and Louise when we started singing "Let it be", and then Rachel joined us. She was across the room, but then she came and stood between me and Patty and started singing with us. I started to cry and Patty held me closer and Rachel stayed for much of the song and then she was gone.
It is hard not to be filled with mind-numbing grief during these visitations, but Rachel is always happy and mischievous, and that gives me comfort. I feel like I am a heathen, my faith is so shaken and shallow. I want to live for my other girls, but I want to die to see Rachel again. I told Rachel that I wanted to die to see her. I felt quilty even saying it, because I think I should want to die to be with Jesus, but I want to die to be with Rachel. When I said that, I saw her motion to me, and then say "Come on in, the water's fine." This reminded me of the song "Come to the Waters" And Jesus said, "Come to the waters, stand by my side, I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied, I felt every teardrop when in darkness you cried, and I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
There is a big part of me that wants to move on with my life. I want to move on from this grief, and get on with the rest of my life. I want to get in shape, and sing and dance. I want to get a new job, and wish I could live with no job. But, the grief still seems to numb me and keep me down on my knees. Rachel, I love you baby. It is time to run, and dance and sing with you. I know I can only see the black and white, but it won't be long before I will be with you and sing with the angels and dance in the rainbow.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Procrastination
Tuesday, July 20th, 2008
Rachel's ashes sit in a vase on my fireplace mantle. A friend gave me the vase. I don't really like it all that much and I plan to replace it with a respectable urn.
I plan to take this respectable urn and take it and put Rachel's ashes in a respectable place, like a cemetery or to the seven winds.
I'm also thinking of getting an engraved memorial, or getting a memorial plaque at Disneyland, or getting a tree, or buying a star for Rachel.
Someday, I may even complete all the paperwork and get the money for the 401K she had, and pay for all of the above. If I was smart, I would get Vince to do it, because even though it can take weeks for him to return calls regarding Jacob, he called me back within ten minutes when I found out that Rachel had an insurance policy for Jacob.
I really intend to put a baby picture and an adult picture in the locket I have for Rachel. I'm going to put together the montage of Oz pictures I have into some really creative artwork and hang it in the living room.
I'm putting together a book of photos for Jacob and I will write down all my memories of his mother for him. I'll put together a clever book, with lovely photos and graceful calligraphy and pretty borders and fun drawings.
When I return to life again, and who knows when that will be, I will do all these things.
For now, I plan on calling Vince again and again and again to beg him to please please please let me see Jacob. And when Vince, Finally, lets me spend time with my grandson, then Jacob can tell me his own memories, of his favorite photo of his mom and him on the Winnie-the-Pooh ride, and how I have long red hair like his mommy's, and how he likes to eat lots and lots and lots of Parmesan Cheese on his spaghetti just like mommy. And I can sit and look at the darling boy and see him, for who is is, certainly, but also how much he is like his mother. Seeing my daughter alive in this boy, puts all my plans and schemes into perspective. Yes, they need to be done when I return to life again, but in the meantime, I need to be around Life, and that life is in Jacob. Rachel, I won't give up. I'm calling Vince again tomorrow. The memories will keep
another day.
Rachel's ashes sit in a vase on my fireplace mantle. A friend gave me the vase. I don't really like it all that much and I plan to replace it with a respectable urn.
I plan to take this respectable urn and take it and put Rachel's ashes in a respectable place, like a cemetery or to the seven winds.
I'm also thinking of getting an engraved memorial, or getting a memorial plaque at Disneyland, or getting a tree, or buying a star for Rachel.
Someday, I may even complete all the paperwork and get the money for the 401K she had, and pay for all of the above. If I was smart, I would get Vince to do it, because even though it can take weeks for him to return calls regarding Jacob, he called me back within ten minutes when I found out that Rachel had an insurance policy for Jacob.
I really intend to put a baby picture and an adult picture in the locket I have for Rachel. I'm going to put together the montage of Oz pictures I have into some really creative artwork and hang it in the living room.
I'm putting together a book of photos for Jacob and I will write down all my memories of his mother for him. I'll put together a clever book, with lovely photos and graceful calligraphy and pretty borders and fun drawings.
When I return to life again, and who knows when that will be, I will do all these things.
For now, I plan on calling Vince again and again and again to beg him to please please please let me see Jacob. And when Vince, Finally, lets me spend time with my grandson, then Jacob can tell me his own memories, of his favorite photo of his mom and him on the Winnie-the-Pooh ride, and how I have long red hair like his mommy's, and how he likes to eat lots and lots and lots of Parmesan Cheese on his spaghetti just like mommy. And I can sit and look at the darling boy and see him, for who is is, certainly, but also how much he is like his mother. Seeing my daughter alive in this boy, puts all my plans and schemes into perspective. Yes, they need to be done when I return to life again, but in the meantime, I need to be around Life, and that life is in Jacob. Rachel, I won't give up. I'm calling Vince again tomorrow. The memories will keep
another day.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
July 1, 2008 Headache
Yesterday, I got a headache at work that made me want to scream. It was hitting the back of my head, like when I had my concussion, and radiating over the top of my skull. It was making me nauseous, maybe a migraine, though I don't generally get migraines. And then, I got it. This is why Rachel died.
Rachel couldn't stand pain, not in herself and not in others. She would run like mad from pain, she would cry and scream in emotional pain, and take whatever she could get her hands on to block out physical pain. There was no use in telling her to "buck up" or "just live with it". That would never happen.
Rachel would talk with anybody, anybody about her emotional pain. Everybody knew whatever was ailing her at any time. Keeping a "stiff upper lip" or " nobody wants to hear your problems" didn't work for her. A life long blabbermouth, she did what she could to release the pain by talking. When she couldn't talk about it, she would get depressed and retreat to sleep, another favorite pastime.
In physical pain, Rachel had no compunctions about doubling or tripling whatever pain killer she had on hand, she couldn't wait to get rid of the pain. Rachel stole prescription drugs from the time she was a teenager from relatives and friends. Rachel was in pain on July 29, 2007. She had an abcessed tooth, which she needed a root canal for. She had dropped some shoes on her feet and they were sprained, if not broken. She had constant back pain, which at autopsy was discovered to have been caused by a 6 centimeter ovarian cyst, she had pelvic inflammatory disease, she was an undiagnosed asthmatic and a chronic smoker. All of this caused her physical pain. The emotional pain was worse.
I didn't know conclusively, why she died until 2 days ago when my cousin Louise told me that Jeff had told her around the time of Rachel's death that Becky was missing a patch of Fentanyl. My cousin Chris, said "Didn't you know that ?" and I said no. I knew Rachel had died from an accidental overdose. There was a list of drugs that put together caused her death, but I didn't know whether she was prescribed the meds, or got them from friends. Becky had good reason to have powerful painkillers. She was recovering from back surgery, the kind where they cut her open from the front and the back and put a post in her back to correct her spine. She was in surgery for over 14 hours. She was in the hospital for days. Stealing a lethal drug from her Aunt Becky was Rachel's downfall.
Knowing Rachel's proclivity for Vicoden and other painkillers, Jeff and Becky usually kept them away from her. After Rachel's death, Jeff discovered that they were missing a Fentanyl patch, a drug supposedly 80 times more potent than morphine, and this patch killed Rachel, causing a massive heart attack.
On the evening of July 29th, Rachel visited her Aunt Becky. She was in good spirits. Apparently she stole the Fentanyl Patch at that time. She went home. I called her on the phone and she said "Mommy, I am in so much pain". I said "Hang on, honey, I'm coming down next weekend to help you out" And she said "That would be nice, mommy I have to hang up. I love you"
And then she was gone.
I remembered all this when I had my horrible headache. I thought I would do anything to get rid of it. And then I thought, "I get it". I understand why Rachel stole the patch. I understand the pain. I understand the need for oblivion.
My sister, Cid had a dream about Rachel soon after she died. She dreamt that she saw Rachel and Rachel said "Tell Mommy, I'm sorry". I didn't understand the dream at the time, but I do now. Rachel wanted forgiveness for stealing.
Oh my baby, I forgive you. Rest in peace free from the pain of the world. Love, Mommy
Rachel couldn't stand pain, not in herself and not in others. She would run like mad from pain, she would cry and scream in emotional pain, and take whatever she could get her hands on to block out physical pain. There was no use in telling her to "buck up" or "just live with it". That would never happen.
Rachel would talk with anybody, anybody about her emotional pain. Everybody knew whatever was ailing her at any time. Keeping a "stiff upper lip" or " nobody wants to hear your problems" didn't work for her. A life long blabbermouth, she did what she could to release the pain by talking. When she couldn't talk about it, she would get depressed and retreat to sleep, another favorite pastime.
In physical pain, Rachel had no compunctions about doubling or tripling whatever pain killer she had on hand, she couldn't wait to get rid of the pain. Rachel stole prescription drugs from the time she was a teenager from relatives and friends. Rachel was in pain on July 29, 2007. She had an abcessed tooth, which she needed a root canal for. She had dropped some shoes on her feet and they were sprained, if not broken. She had constant back pain, which at autopsy was discovered to have been caused by a 6 centimeter ovarian cyst, she had pelvic inflammatory disease, she was an undiagnosed asthmatic and a chronic smoker. All of this caused her physical pain. The emotional pain was worse.
I didn't know conclusively, why she died until 2 days ago when my cousin Louise told me that Jeff had told her around the time of Rachel's death that Becky was missing a patch of Fentanyl. My cousin Chris, said "Didn't you know that ?" and I said no. I knew Rachel had died from an accidental overdose. There was a list of drugs that put together caused her death, but I didn't know whether she was prescribed the meds, or got them from friends. Becky had good reason to have powerful painkillers. She was recovering from back surgery, the kind where they cut her open from the front and the back and put a post in her back to correct her spine. She was in surgery for over 14 hours. She was in the hospital for days. Stealing a lethal drug from her Aunt Becky was Rachel's downfall.
Knowing Rachel's proclivity for Vicoden and other painkillers, Jeff and Becky usually kept them away from her. After Rachel's death, Jeff discovered that they were missing a Fentanyl patch, a drug supposedly 80 times more potent than morphine, and this patch killed Rachel, causing a massive heart attack.
On the evening of July 29th, Rachel visited her Aunt Becky. She was in good spirits. Apparently she stole the Fentanyl Patch at that time. She went home. I called her on the phone and she said "Mommy, I am in so much pain". I said "Hang on, honey, I'm coming down next weekend to help you out" And she said "That would be nice, mommy I have to hang up. I love you"
And then she was gone.
I remembered all this when I had my horrible headache. I thought I would do anything to get rid of it. And then I thought, "I get it". I understand why Rachel stole the patch. I understand the pain. I understand the need for oblivion.
My sister, Cid had a dream about Rachel soon after she died. She dreamt that she saw Rachel and Rachel said "Tell Mommy, I'm sorry". I didn't understand the dream at the time, but I do now. Rachel wanted forgiveness for stealing.
Oh my baby, I forgive you. Rest in peace free from the pain of the world. Love, Mommy
Monday, April 14, 2008
taxes- april 14th
Taxes. What a bitch and that's all I have to say about it.
I had a dream about Rachel the other day. I dreamt I walked up to the house where she was staying-a half-way house in Lakewood, California with a long entry way. Rachel opened the door and stood there in a towel around her body and a towel wrapped around her hair and said "Mommy, what are you doing here?" And I said, "I just wanted to see you." Then the alarm went off and I woke up. Dreams are a gift. She was pretty and Rachel and I saw her, again, and I rarely see her anymore. There are not enough photos or videos to last. There are never enough memories. I read in the paper about a couple who lost their boy and they said they have spent the last twenty years looking for him. That's how I feel.
Some times I look in the crowd of people to see if anyone looks like Rachel. I went to the LA Art Museum last week, and spent a lot of time looking to see if Rachel was in any of the paintings.
None. I only see her in my own face, and my face is old and lined and not pretty like her. Sometimes, when I see Keturah from a distance walking, she looks like Rachel from the back. Where are you? Where are you?
It all seems pointless sometimes.
Another Dream.
I dreamt that Rachel was visiting me each night and she was far away beckoning me to come with her. I refused, "I can't, I have your sisters to think about". Each night, she would come a little closer and this dream reoccurred over several days. Still, I would refuse. Finally, I agreed and came as close to her as I dared, I was immediately angry because I thought she would open her arms and welcome me and she didn't. As I got closer to her, I noticed she was holding a baby, and could not embrace me without dropping the baby. And then she was gone.
I woke up, and knew immediately that the baby was Megan, my sister's baby who was stillborn 19 years ago. Megan got a mommy to take care of her, and Rachel was taking care of her with pride and joy and love, just like she did Jacob.
Oh God, life is too long.
I had a dream about Rachel the other day. I dreamt I walked up to the house where she was staying-a half-way house in Lakewood, California with a long entry way. Rachel opened the door and stood there in a towel around her body and a towel wrapped around her hair and said "Mommy, what are you doing here?" And I said, "I just wanted to see you." Then the alarm went off and I woke up. Dreams are a gift. She was pretty and Rachel and I saw her, again, and I rarely see her anymore. There are not enough photos or videos to last. There are never enough memories. I read in the paper about a couple who lost their boy and they said they have spent the last twenty years looking for him. That's how I feel.
Some times I look in the crowd of people to see if anyone looks like Rachel. I went to the LA Art Museum last week, and spent a lot of time looking to see if Rachel was in any of the paintings.
None. I only see her in my own face, and my face is old and lined and not pretty like her. Sometimes, when I see Keturah from a distance walking, she looks like Rachel from the back. Where are you? Where are you?
It all seems pointless sometimes.
Another Dream.
I dreamt that Rachel was visiting me each night and she was far away beckoning me to come with her. I refused, "I can't, I have your sisters to think about". Each night, she would come a little closer and this dream reoccurred over several days. Still, I would refuse. Finally, I agreed and came as close to her as I dared, I was immediately angry because I thought she would open her arms and welcome me and she didn't. As I got closer to her, I noticed she was holding a baby, and could not embrace me without dropping the baby. And then she was gone.
I woke up, and knew immediately that the baby was Megan, my sister's baby who was stillborn 19 years ago. Megan got a mommy to take care of her, and Rachel was taking care of her with pride and joy and love, just like she did Jacob.
Oh God, life is too long.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Can't Get Any Worse
Happy New Year-2008-
For 2008, I keep thinking of the Beatles Song- "Got to admit it's getting better, getting better all the time- CAN'T GET ANY WORSE!
A co-worker told me not to say that. I would just jinx 2008. I don't think I can. What? Will my other kids die? God help me. No, what saddens me most about 2007 is that 2007 will always be the year my daughter died, the year that I last saw her, ever. Nothing could be worse, or the memories more precious of her. I did a New Years Eve Party for the money, of course. I forced my cousin to come with me. She had a dream earlier that I would have a meltdown and she would have to take over and do a comedy act because she can't sing. Today, she congratulated me on recovering from my mini-meltdown with Auld Lang Syne, and how I recovered so quickly. The mini-meltdowns happen about 10 times a day, and I recover quickly. Maybe just a few tears, maybe a real sobbing weep, or just misty-eyed. I miss the girl.
But, it's not the same. Not the same as the beginning, when the earth opened up and swallowed me whole all day every day for days. When I would have thrown my other children under the bus if I could have one more day with Rachel. When the stranger who shares my room could've jumped on the plane to Australia and I wouldn't have noticed. It's not the same, as when I was obsessed with walking to jog off the pain, or making dioramas of OZ, or thinking up my butterfly tattoo, or gritting my teeth to keep from screaming.
Now, I just feel Dull. Dull, all day long. Nothing seems to matter much, anymore. It's just passing time till I die, and then people forget me. Doesn't much matter.
So, what about 2008? What are the resolutions? Well, let's see. Oh yes, lose weight. Always the first one, and never done. I must make some kind of plan. And, stick with it. Let's see how far I get with this resolution, before I start adding more. That is enough.
I'd like to see my daughter, Keturah get married. Stop fooling around. Just do it. I like the guy and he does love you. Make an old lady happy, get married and have some babies.
I want to see my grandson, Jacob more. He is so funny, he cracks me up! He is a smart kid, and so much like Rachel.
Josh needs to get out of jail, and get on with his life, wherever that leads him.
John needs to join me with this weight loss resolution. We can do it.
And that's it. There are some others, but I just want my family close and my fat further away.
I miss you, baby Rachel, I miss you. And I won't have you in 2008 or for the rest of the New Year's for the rest of forever.
For 2008, I keep thinking of the Beatles Song- "Got to admit it's getting better, getting better all the time- CAN'T GET ANY WORSE!
A co-worker told me not to say that. I would just jinx 2008. I don't think I can. What? Will my other kids die? God help me. No, what saddens me most about 2007 is that 2007 will always be the year my daughter died, the year that I last saw her, ever. Nothing could be worse, or the memories more precious of her. I did a New Years Eve Party for the money, of course. I forced my cousin to come with me. She had a dream earlier that I would have a meltdown and she would have to take over and do a comedy act because she can't sing. Today, she congratulated me on recovering from my mini-meltdown with Auld Lang Syne, and how I recovered so quickly. The mini-meltdowns happen about 10 times a day, and I recover quickly. Maybe just a few tears, maybe a real sobbing weep, or just misty-eyed. I miss the girl.
But, it's not the same. Not the same as the beginning, when the earth opened up and swallowed me whole all day every day for days. When I would have thrown my other children under the bus if I could have one more day with Rachel. When the stranger who shares my room could've jumped on the plane to Australia and I wouldn't have noticed. It's not the same, as when I was obsessed with walking to jog off the pain, or making dioramas of OZ, or thinking up my butterfly tattoo, or gritting my teeth to keep from screaming.
Now, I just feel Dull. Dull, all day long. Nothing seems to matter much, anymore. It's just passing time till I die, and then people forget me. Doesn't much matter.
So, what about 2008? What are the resolutions? Well, let's see. Oh yes, lose weight. Always the first one, and never done. I must make some kind of plan. And, stick with it. Let's see how far I get with this resolution, before I start adding more. That is enough.
I'd like to see my daughter, Keturah get married. Stop fooling around. Just do it. I like the guy and he does love you. Make an old lady happy, get married and have some babies.
I want to see my grandson, Jacob more. He is so funny, he cracks me up! He is a smart kid, and so much like Rachel.
Josh needs to get out of jail, and get on with his life, wherever that leads him.
John needs to join me with this weight loss resolution. We can do it.
And that's it. There are some others, but I just want my family close and my fat further away.
I miss you, baby Rachel, I miss you. And I won't have you in 2008 or for the rest of the New Year's for the rest of forever.
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