Sunday, March 13, 2005

P.S. I'm Sorry

This time of year always makes me think about "heart attack day". Remember? It was cold like now but almost spring. If you'd given me a clue the night before, well. I never knew. You slept on the couch while I went to bed and drifted off to face another day in paradise.

That particular day, I went to work and you called in. Not unusual, really. You didn't feel good and had a bit of chest discomfort. About an hour into the day I called to check on you and things seemed worse. I talked to one of the ER nurses and she said for me to go get your ass.

By the time I got home you were layin' on the bed in terrible pain. Once we got in the car, you seemed intent on living, kickin' the dash and screaming at me the whole wild 10 minute ride. "RUN that mother fucker!". I was stopping for red lights while you were dyin'. Go figure.

They did all the right things at the hospital. EKG...tombstones. Cardiac markers, negative. Morphine for the pain and chopper on the way with Activase doing its' magic. You were the poster boy at 39 for modern medical miracles, including the follow-up 3 months later for early closure w/o stenting. Doc was in a hurry that first time, okay? We watched NCAA ball from the top floor of Methodist North and I slept in the window.

It began to unravel quickly after that. We both knew that our "reunion" was about $$$$ and our Babygirl and not at all about us. I think that there at the end of it, you finally DID care about me. I reckon that's why you cried so when I told you I couldn't do it anymore.

I'm happy most of the time now. I walk outta work and look ahead to what's at home with my dawgs and the seasons on the farm. The asparagus is about to come up. I still like beer and cooking.

Thanks for never mistreating me. Thanks for being a terrific Dad and not such a terrific husband. I accept my part in the whole deal and I'm just grateful that you're still around when I say "Hey You...I just needed to hear your voice."

Monday, March 07, 2005

Notes from a Pity Party

The darkness comes upon me in fatigue, and usually when I least expect it. Today's cue for melancholy was an answered e-mail from weeks gone by. Full of the condescending attitude that permeates corporate America, it was one of those "I'm sorry you feel that way" type of things where the writer/speaker accepts no responsibility for any part of it but shifts the action back to the "feeler".

I'm always the feeler, it seems.....and when I feel it, I usually say it. One of these days I will learn ( probably from my nursing home bed ) to keep my trap shut and expect nothing. Perhaps by then, it won't matter to me and I will expect no validation other than a periodic visit from some good old church soul or a distant cousin wanting to relive the past that is ours.

One who is made differently from myself could have, and certainly WOULD have given much less to a career and much more to self gratification. I often wonder why I have felt the need to get back up and try it again after being knocked flat on my face so many times. The only way to live that life is to rationalize that faith and hope are the keys to successful living. Many times, I feel that I will go to my grave holding onto those things with good intentions and dreams as my companions in the end.

Sitting through Lacey's orientation on the "benefits" today sort of threw cold water on my face. She is young, and much smarter than myself. Her childhood was filled with my quest to be everything to everybody and my miserable failure to everyone.....including myself. I see a wisdom and independence in her soul that I lacked at her age. It's one of the few things that gives me comfort these days, knowing that she will not tolerate the crap that she saw her Momma live.

I guess that means I've done my most important job well.

Now, bring on Prince Charming!

Friday, March 04, 2005

Present tense

I realized today how very long I've been living in the past. Part of that is the grief process but part of it is just plain old stubborness...a failure on my part to give up the ghost and accept responsibility for my own care and happiness.

Heard through the grapevine that Fred's dad died. He was elderly and it was "expected". He chose not to talk about it....not to me anyway. Why would he? I'm just a gal at work. That's pretty much a contrast to Tim and his very present wife and daughter(s). PENNY. KATIE BETH. RYAN MCKENZIE soon to be born.

Fred's family is a big mystery, except for the babygirl who seems to be on his mind 24/7. He has spoken of a sister by name, but the wife is nameless. She's just "my wife...the homemaker."

That strikes me as very sad. Even in the past tense, my husband has a name. We spent 20 years together and half as many gettin' apart so there's some shared territory there. We have a child....we will share grandchildren someday.

It's March and the grass is growin' again. My lawnmowers are in the shop. I have one and a half dawgs, two cats, one Babygirl, and a family complete with brothers and parents and cousins. My job is not bad most days and I live in paradise.

It's all good.