Serendipity.

If there’s a book you really want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it. – Toni Morrison

After I posted my last post. This quote appeared. It seems fitting. Perhaps the fates are with me. I just have to find my voice again.

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Stream of conciousness for 3/5/13

Death has stunted my creativity. So much death in 25 short years. It creeps in slowly and unexpectedly pounces. He has strangled my muse and enjoys it. I wonder where she has gone my Arabella Winter, my once constant companion. It’s the winter that makes her thrive you see: the snow that purifies and makes all beautiful. Under all this ice she’s hidden away.

I find lines at the corners of my eyes. A haggard face and yet so young. Where have all my stories gone. All of the tales I held within my heart seem to have fled with the death of her. So much death, so much darkness that we must endure. I do not carry the answers. I carry only a broken heart since you were taken. Where have all my stories gone? They died with you.

I’m trying to write something every day. My mind is rusty, she’s been hiding in books since grandma passed away. Maybe some day I’ll be able to write again, to really write those stories that were kept safe within me. Maybe they’ll come back. Maybe Arabella Winter will return.

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Quiet

It’s quiet there.
Vacant, the curtains drawn.
All the voices aching to be heard,
have become silent.
Silent as the dead.
Dead like you.
Like me.
The colors aren’t there.
Like that time I mixed all my paint.
I wanted to make a rainbow.
All I got was brown.

 

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2012 A New Year to Miss You

I’ve been restless all day, agitated beyond reason. It was a good day too. I just wasn’t in it. I thought thank goodness 2011 is over. It was a horrible year. Then I remembered it’s a year without her. There will be so many more years and she won’t be here. I miss her so much and I still want to pick up the phone to call her. To tell her.. everything that’s happened since she was taken. I’m trying to be strong, to keep things together but it’s so hard. She died September 24th, my grandmother, my best friend, my hero.

I made Thanksgiving dinner without her this year. I was so exhausted by the end of the day. I gained a whole new respect for what she had done for us year after year. The worst part was most of my family stayed home, even though it was their idea to have it here. I brought together family and friends with food. The glue that holds my family together but it wasn’t the same without her. Christmas didn’t feel the same either. I wanted to tell her I was able to make no-bake cookies this time. It didn’t turn into granola. I’m so thankful for all she has taught me.

Mom has told me so many times how people were so proud of me being so strong. I learned it from the best. The quiet strength that she always carried, I can fake it. I’m so broken inside. I miss her so much. Every day I feel the sharp pain of her absence. I’m falling apart and I don’t know what to do. I just can’t believe it is real. It has been over 3 months and I still can’t believe she is gone.

I think she knew how much I needed her. She made Luke and Barb promise to take care of me. I don’t know if it will be enough. I’m trying to keep it together but it is just so fucking hard. I’d give up everything I own just to have her back. When she was sick and they said her kidneys were failing. I was ready to jump on a table and let them take mine. Anything just to keep her here. I know it is selfish beyond measure that I wanted her to stay. I know it was best for us to let go but it still hurts.

I try to remember how she was before she got sick. I cling to those memories to keep the others away. When I had to go to the hospital the other day for Barb I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I just keep remembering her as she took her last breaths. I held her hand and told it was ok to let go. She could stop fighting. She didn’t have to stay for me anymore. I’d be okay.

I’m not okay and time isn’t making it better. The numbness has worn off and all I feel is grief.

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The Song that Haunts my Morning

I have all this stuff that I need to deal with. It’s all rattling around in my head like a bunch of marbles crashing and chipping off glass shards.  So much has happened in the months since my last post and now this song is banging around inside.

 

What Sarah Said.. -Death Cab for Cutie.

And it came to me then that every plan
Is a tiny prayer to father time
As I stared at my shoes in the ICU
That reeked of piss and 409
And I rationed my breaths as I said to myself
That I’ve already taken too much today
As each descending peak on the LCD
Took you a little farther away from me
Away from me

Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines
In a place where we only say goodbye
It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend
On a faulty camera in our minds
And I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose
Than to have never lain beside at all
And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground
As the TV entertained itself

‘Cause there’s no comfort in the waiting room
Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news
And then the nurse comes ‘round and everyone lift their heads
But I’m thinking of what Sarah said
That love is watching someone die

So who’s gonna watch you die? So whos gonna watch you die

 

 

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Where I am Now

I turned in my two week notice and my last day of work was on 12/24/10. I’d spent two and a half years at a job I hated. I loved working with my clients who were adults with mental and physical disabilities. It was the incompetence that was rampant in management and the lack of respect for their employees that finally drove me out.

In my last 9 months there I had been working the suicide shift. I’d go in at 10pm Friday and get off work at 3pm on Sunday. Unless my relief was late and then it was anyone’s guess for when I’d finally get to go home. I was allowed to sleep from 10pm until 6am when I had to get up and give medication. Unless of course one of the clients decided they didn’t want to sleep and stayed up until 3 or 4am. Then I just had to deal.

It was one of the most stressful jobs I’ve ever had. I was so stressed out, I continually became ill. I had to take off work for severe bronchitis/upper respiratory infection with a doctors note. Then I had to deal with my manager calling me in after I’d dropped off my sick leave request to fill out Family Medical Leave Act paperwork just because she was angry and thought I wasn’t actually sick. I crawled back into the office and filled out the paperwork only to find out it was completely unnecessary and that I wasn’t even eligible for it.

It escalated from there. I wasn’t able to take vacation even though I had it. I worked Black Friday and the weekend following. Then I was scheduled to work Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Years Eve, New Years Day. Family is very important to me and I wasn’t going to be allowed to see them. I decided to suck it up and work all those holidays and let everyone else see their families. I just wanted to be off the second week of January so I could go to my husband’s cousins baby shower. They are an amazing couple and great friends as well as family. They had been trying for years to conceive and were finally pregnant with a little girl. To say it was a joyous occasion would be an understatement. I put in the request at the beginning of December. And was told the day that I put in my two weeks notice I wouldn’t be able to take it off even though I had vacation.

I was tired of being bullied, tramped, on and over all being treated like shit by a company that I had spent two and a half years of my life bleeding for. I filled out my resignation letter and left on my managers desk that day.

I felt like a weight had lifted off my shoulders. I got to spend the holidays with my family. I came back from my holiday and started scouring the classifieds and looking for a new job.

I spent a little over 7 months jobless. I filled out countless applications and only had a few interviews. At the public library I applied at least 6 different times for various positions. I finally started applying for anything and everything.

I had  job interview that I didn’t even really care about or want. It was a customer service position with a local textbook seller. It was still a job so I still went. I arrived and completed some writing tests, and then used a computer to navigate their site. Then miracles of miracles I got the job.

It’s temporary for now. I’ve done two weeks of training and am now on my second week of being solo. Next week starts the rush for textbook purchases and we are going to be crazy busy. For a job I wasn’t excited about, I really enjoy it. I’ve met some very interesting people and made some new friends. I’m actually getting out of the house even if it is just for work.

That’s where I am now, and there’s so much still before me. Life is an adventure and for now I’m loving the ride.

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The Vampire Gardners

Our Tomaoes and Jalapenos

 Luke and I transplanted our tomatoes because they were getting way to big for their hanging pot. Their roots had completly taken over. I hope to get some tomatoes from them soon. The plant in the red planter is my jalapeno. I can’t wait till we have fresh produce to make salsa. I’ll just have to get some nice green onions and a lime and I’ll have some amazing salsa :). Luke also got me a Begonia which is in a hanging pot on our front porch I think it looks pretty spiffy.

Pretty Begonia

 Strangely enough we keep doing our gardening in the middle of the night which actually works out better for me. A lot of the medicine that I take makes me very sensitive to the sun and I can have an allergic reaction and break out into a rash which is weird enough as it is with all my other allergies. Thankfully it seems like I may be able to keep these plants alive. I haven’t exactly had the best tract record with my plants. I killed an air plant for gods sakes all you have to do is occassionally spritz those with water. If this all works out maybe next year Luke and I will try to plant some more veggies and things that we can nom. I’d love to have a huge garden like my great grandma Spearman but we just don’t eat that much produce and right now have no where to put it. All our plants are in planters right now because the people paid to mow our lawn are idiots. They mowed over my minature rose bush that my mother-in-law gave me. It really pissed me off. I saw a great recipe keeper at walmart I think when I have the time I’m going to start transcribing all the family recipes I have onto recipe cards so they will be better organized. I however have started cooking like my Grandma LeaAna and just throw things in until it looks and tastes good. It’s a family tradition I suppose 🙂

 

 

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I Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Chainsaw!

I’ve been really worried lately. Luke may lose his job if the organization he works for doesn’t get their three-year accreditation like usual. They need an escape goat and since Luke is a supervisor now and the upper boss really dislikes him, we may be in trouble. I still haven’t found a job. It’s been six months since I quit the evil organization. I found out I’m not even rehirable there now after the investigation since I said that my manager wasn’t doing her job. That’s not the reason they gave of course but it’s really suspicious since before the investigation I was fine. I guess I would have been better lying my socks off but that’s just not how gram raised me. I’m worried that all the applications I’ve been turning in have been sunk because I’m getting a bad reference from the evil org.

I’ve applied for the town library at least 20 times in the past four years and I’ve only ever been interviewed once and that was on my 2nd application or so. I received a notification in my e-mail that I was passed up again for another position there. A few weeks ago I applied for Elis library at Mizzou, I hope to at least receive an interview. In an interview I know for sure I fail when I don’t get the job where as without the interview I’m not even given a chance to fail.

Today I applied for front desk at a hotel, a pharmacy tech, and a personal banker position. I hope to hear back from something but it just isn’t looking good. If he loses his job I don’t know what we will do. It’s hard enough surviving when we are paying for supplies and food for four instead of three. If he loses his job only one of us in our house will be trying to support all of us and it will not be good.

On a happier note. We are now the proud growers of 3 Tomatoes, 1 Jalapeno, and 1 Begonia plant. They look so pretty in their new little pots. When the tomatoes and jalapeno plant start producing I’ll be half way to fresh salsa! The Begonia is just for looks of course.

I also to my anger out on the ugly and half dead tree-bush that was in front of our duplex. The psychotic neighbor that told our landlord we’d put up Halloween decorations and thought we were Satan worshipers was the brilliant mind behind its hideous growth. I suppose she thought she’d shape it like some fancy Japanese little tree which it is not, instead of a shrub. She trimmed all the bottom of it and left the top branched out. It looked bloody ridiculous. The top half died over the winter but it still sprouted lovely shrub shaped growth from its roots this spring.

Unfortunately we had this lovely shrub with this huge hideous dead tree looking thing growing out of it. We don’t really have any garden tools and the trunk was as big around as paper towel tube at least. I thought we’d probably have to take a chainsaw to it. Tonight after we re-potted our plants in spacious pots I looked at that tree-bush with annoyance.

We were making our front porch look so much better and it just stood there sneering. So I went after it with my bare hands and snapped off little twig after twig to stick until I got down to the good-sized branches. I looked at it some more and said what the hell if I hurt myself and pulled, cracked, and snapped with all I had. Until all I had was a pretty little shrub again. I showed Luke and said it was the only time for me to garden. He shook his head and called me a “vampire gardener.” I guess if the shoe fits. :[

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Father’s Day

For the first time in I don’t know how many years I actually got to spend Father’s Day with my dad. It’s weird in a way since I’ve had two step-fathers throughout my life and a grandfather who practically raised me, I’ve never really celebrated father’s day. For as long as I can remember I’ve known that I have a different dad than the four siblings I grew up with. It use to really bother me as a child, especially when one of my baby brothers yelled I wasn’t their real sister in anger.

I remember crying for a very long time over that. I know now he didn’t mean it and I’m as close to all four of them as I can be after being kicked out and moving into my grandparents when I was 15.  I missed a lot not living with them but I couldn’t survive in that situation any longer. I feel bad for leaving them behind, even after all this time has passed. I feel so old, now. I’ve watched every single one of them graduate from high school and look forward to seeing what else they do with their lives. I love them more than anything and would do anything for them, including my new sister and brother that I’ve found.

Found isn’t really the right word. It makes it sound like they were lost, when in reality since kindergarten my sister from my dad and I have been inseparable. I grew up having sleep overs, crushes, fights, and girl scouts together. Along with many other rights of passage, we have been together. We didn’t know we were sisters, but we always wished we would be.

Last summer I decided I had to know who my father was. I was going through a crisis of identity that I still haven’t quite figured out, but I’ve come to accept it. How could I know who I was if I didn’t know where I came from. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I told myself that I needed to know for health reasons. It was okay if he didn’t want anything to do with me. It was a matter of superficial need, nothing more. We sent in a paternity test a lovely thing you can buy at your local Walgreens. Yes, I’m serious they are right there on the shelves. I didn’t even have to talk to a pharmacist. Three mouth swabs; one for child, mother, and supposed father. That’s the thing about fathers they don’t necessarily know who you are or that you exist.  You came out of the mother and they can keep that secret if they wish.

I was never a secret, but I was deprived of the relationship with my father. My mother was too young and was blinded by love for another so I had to be his. Of course I wasn’t. Last summer my father was graced with a 22-year-old daughter. I should say another 22-year-old seeing as how my sister is only about 3 months younger than I am. It’s been strange for both of us I believe. We have 22 years of life to catch up on, to build a relationship that should have been built a long time ago.

This Father’s Day I spent the day with my father. We swam in their pool and visited. I got to see my sister and brother who I haven’t seen in quite a while. My step-mom made us a great dinner. I sugared up my nephew and niece with unfrozen wedding cake. To top it off I got to play with Binx my dad’s new kitten. I think perhaps I get my love of cats from him.

It’s weird my sister and I are so much a like. We were both very mean little girls though neither of us ever got in much trouble.  My dad and I have the same crazy eyebrows according to my grams. My step mom and I are into a lot of the same things such as polka dots which she always dressed my sister in but she hated them. And my older brother got to aggravate me as a child when my sister and I had sleepovers. When we are all together I think of how things could have been if I had spent equal time with them growing up as I had with my mother’s side of the family. I feel robbed in a lot of ways of that connection.

I was deprived of that part of my life for 22 years I won’t let it happen any longer. It will no longer define who I am, even if I’m not sure who that is yet.

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My Little Corner of the World

I need an outlet; a reason to write. I’m starting to not sleep at night again. It’s not about sleeping all day, I just feel more alive at night. I took a drive to drop some books off at the library and pick up my meds. It was the first time I’d driven my own car in I don’t know how many days. I blasted Red Jumpsuit Apparatus and drove with the windows down. The moon was beautiful and all I wanted to do was be out under it soaking up all that reflected sunlight. I miss being in a place where it’s safe for me to be out by myself.

I’m getting so restless. I’m stuck at home all day. Have been pretty much since December. I hardly ever get to use my own car. I don’t have my own money. I hate being dependent. I’ve applied for so many damn jobs and only had around 3 actual interviews. At the library alone here I’ve applied at least 20 times since I’ve lived in Columbia.

I’m so worried about my husband. I just don’t know what to do. The doctors are completly useless which makes me feel even more useless. I don’t want to be a widow. We got married because we are head over heels in love. If I lost him I don’t know what I’d do.

On a totally different not our living room smells like styrofoam and I have no idea why. It reminds me of the deck styrofoam Grandpa Steve used for target practice with his bow. I really miss him. It’s father day on Sunday and he was the only dad I really had for the longest time.  About a year ago I found out for sure who my dad is and we are trying to build that relationship. It isn’t easy by any means, but it’s worth working for.

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