It has been some time since I have had the courage to come here. I have mentally composed many posts, but have left them untyped in the recess of my brain. When I came here tonight it startled me to see that I had been a blogger since 2005. That was ten years ago.

Ten years ago my life was silly. Pain had no real meaning to me, although I did not realize that at the time. I thought I understood pain and suffering, but I really did not. Now ten years later my life is still silly.

Tonight I came home from work early. I work two jobs, but since I left my main job early I was able to clean the office building and come home much earlier than usual. I had intended to spend the extra time outside since today is supposed to be the last day of this stretch of unseasonably warm February weather. Instead, I was starving, so I went to my kitchen and made the kids steaks and potatoes. Diva was coming over to work on a college paper so I made her a steak too.

later in the evening we were standing outside. She was smoking and I was staring into the stars. We were talking about her latest sexual escapades. Being single her day to day life still makes for a funny story. I was asking her the delicate question about how a boy I went to school with was in bed. She had just found out the answer this weekend. I had honestly always suspected this particular man was gay, so I was really interested in the answer. Yet, as we spoke, I was conscious of the building Jason had hung himself in. I wondered if he could hear me. I wish I knew how it all worked. Life does go on. It is just as silly. I just can't laugh at it in quite the same way.

It feels good to be back.

Time

Time healing all wounds is a matter of perspective. I know from experience that for most people in the community Jason's death is an event that happened six months ago. In collective experience six months is a long time. I remember when the towers were attacked on September 11th. Like the rest of the world I was shocked. I was not sure if I should continue on with the plans for my day. I did, simply because I could not think of a reason not to. I drove to Liberal and went grocery shopping. Everybody I met was in the same state of shock I was. The thought that made me the saddest was knowing that in a few days, or maybe weeks, my life would go back to the how it had been. So many people were suffering a tragedy that would hurt for the rest of their lives, and I would be ok in a few weeks. I was right. It did not take long for the every day tasks of my life to smother my thoughts of a tragedy so far away. I know that this same thing is happening concerning the death of my son. 

Jason's death is becoming something people will talk about without emotion. They will shake their heads in sadness, remember where they were when they heard the news, but remembering will not make them feel as if a knife is twisting in their heart.

For me the pain has changed also. I no longer feel that raw, horrible pain that was with me for the first few months. I do not wake up and feel as if I have been kicked in the gut when I remember. The pain is now an ache that resonates through my soul. I miss my son. It has been six months since I have seen him, hugged him, since he has made me smile. There is no cure for my missing him. I know that this is the shortest time I will have been away from him. Everyday the time between us grows longer. My pain grows in size. Soon it will be bigger than me.

For several months I have actively tried to balance my time so that I was both keeping busy and spending time alone with my grief. Lately though I have lost that balance. Somehow I let myself slip into a constantly busy mode. I do not think this has been good for me. I find myself fighting back tears at work more often. If I do not find time to deal with my emotions they are going to overwhelm me.

Part of the reason is having the girls living here. It is hard to find time for yourself when you have a baby in the house. Twice in the last week I have wanted to give up. I felt like I needed to quit trying to raise children, quit everything. I just wanted to be left all alone. I do not handle stress as well as I used to and raising children is stressful. Especially when the children legally belong to someone else, someone who is erratic and hard to deal with.

Today I had the most beautiful day. The morning I spent with Lane and the baby. He laid his head in my lap while we watched soccer highlights. She kept pushing his head with her foot in an attempt to claim her territory. After lunch I dropped the baby off with my mom and drove Beezus and Ramona to the Two Buttes Reservoir to jump off of the cliffs. Back at home I took a long shower then drank a glass of wine with Fria Chica while we sat in hammock chairs and watched the sunset. It was a wonderful day off.

Tired, I was in bed before eleven. Around midnight Lane woke me up to talk about a pickup he wanted to buy. I fell quickly back to sleep. Over an hour later I hear Lane say, "I'm going to the beat the shit out of that boy." The door slammed. He was gone before I jumped out of bed.  I knew right away which boy he was talking about. Beezus has been running around with an eighteen year old boy from a neighboring town. Lane asked around about him and what he found concerned us both.  He had come home that night to find his pickup pulling away from the house and Beezus's bed filled with a wad of clothes. She came in quickly to insist she had just been out at the hammocks. Lane came home without having fought. He did stop the boy on the highway out of town and threaten him. The boy insisted he had just been buying her cigarettes. Lane pointed out that he was buying cigarettes for  a fifteen year old and that in Kansas anything he did with a fifteen year old was illegal.

Through all of this the only thing Beezus seemed concerned about was her phone. Lane had taken it from her. I had taken it from him. She does not seem to have any concern for the people around her. She is very much like my sister.

I could not fall asleep as quickly after this interruption. I am worried Lane will be hurt because of me trying to do the right thing.  Frankly I am also worried about Beezus somehow hurting all of us because I am trying to do the right thing. Trying to keep this girl out of trouble is a fulltime job for Lane and I. It is way too much stress for both of us right now.

As I slowly started to slip back to sleep the baby woke up. She had been sleeping fitfully for awhile. She crawls in her sleep sometimes. This time she crawled into a wall. The bump on her head woke her up. Something kept her awake and crying for an hour. She is teething. It also seemed like she might have a stomach ache.

I do not want to do this anymore.

It has been six months today since I found Jason. I am not sure if that is why Lane and I have been so emotional today or if it is just a coincidence. After working a half a day I came home and was immediately irritated with the kids. Lane and I argued off and on all day. During a point while we were not arguing he mentioned that he thought he was depressed. I responded in what I thought was a helpful way. That just started another fight.

While we were arguing, not long after I came home, I found a water leak under the kitchen sink. It was an easy one to fix. Soon I was turning the water back on. For some reason there was only a small stream of water coming from the kitchen sink. While we were looking for the cause of this lack of water another pipe broke. We decided to just replace the faucet with an extra one my brother had given me.

After a whole day of trying to take out the old faucet we still have no water. There is a fitting I just cannot get to budge. The prospect of working all day with Lane made me happy. Apparently he did not feel the same. He gave up on the project when we realized how hard it was going to be.  I know I am surrounded by people who love me, but it seems like when life gets to be the hardest I am always alone. Most likely I cause this myself by pushing people away and refusing to ask for help. It just seems like people usually let me down when I need them so it is easier to just go it alone.

I came to bed and tried to sleep. This is the night the baby decided to wake up crying at midnight. So here I am awake.  She is sleeping soundly now. Maybe I will be able to go back to sleep soon. I am ready for a good day.

     I spent most of my day feeling despondent. A string of good days is still followed by a bad day or two. Yesterday I could feel the mood settling in. I had spent Saturday night in Amarillo with my boyfriend. It is simple phrases like that last one that make my head itch and my stomach ache.
      I have been dating the man who came to Rolando's birthday party.  We took his two daughters to Amarillo to do some shopping. Even admitting it here that I have a boyfriend makes me cringe. Obviously my flaws as a parent are apparent now. How can I have a boyfriend, try for any level of happiness, when my son has only been dead for six months? There is a battle going on inside of me. It is between the faction that knows I have to try and live and the faction that insists I am a horrible person for being able to do so.
      Sitting here alone in my room crying won't make Jason any more alive. I also feel that I am showing Lane how to move on too. He has become indecisive since Jason died. He has made it clear he won't move away from home. Because of this he turned down a scholarship to WSU and decided at the last minute not to sign with the Navy.  Then, just a couple of days ago, he told me that after he finishes the vo-tech course he is signed up for he is planning on moving to Colorado. Inside I was ecstatic.  Even talking about moving away is a big step for him.
     However, there is that faction of me that is disgusted. If I truly loved my son would I be able to go to Amarillo and have fun? It would have been different if it had been my nieces I took down to shop. Then it would seem like a necessity. I was not necessary on this trip. Although his youngest daughter did seem excited to have somebody to try on dresses for and to talk about boys with. I did make her shudder though when I mentioned that her dad was cute. It was just a frivolous weekend for me. Somehow I can't stop that thought from making me sick.

I have not mastered being an adult yet.

For some much needed levity I will tell a ridiculous and true story.  Thursday I night I stopped by Anna's house for a few minutes. We had only planned to stay a few minutes, but it was a beautiful night and Anna offered me a glass of wine so the baby and I stayed for several hours. We talked while the baby crawled in the grass. The trees looked nice against the pink sky at sunset. Baby had her bottle and fell asleep in my arms. Having drank a couple of glasses of water and four glasses of wine in as many hours. I decided it was time to walk home.

The baby stayed asleep on my shoulder. I held the diaper bag over the other arm. About halfway home I realized I really needed to use the toilet. I ran up the steps and burst into the empty house. I shucked off the diaper bag and started trying to undo my button with one hand while doing a pee dance. As I rushed through the bathroom door the button came undone, but I realized I did not have time to shimmy my shorts down with one hand. My body was starting without me. At the last moment I jumped in the shower and pissed my pants, a lot. The baby stayed asleep as I stood there thinking 'this is happening. This is part of my life now.'

I had a lovely evening. I have had several nice nights in a row. These nice nights are hard on me. I know they will need to be paid for eventually.  It is a beautiful time of year right now. The sun does not go down until close to ten so it is perfect for sitting outside with a glass of wine and talking with friends.

Today at work I planned out all of the housework I would get done tonight. I was going to make pasta for dinner too. I came home to an empty house. I decided to eat some yogurt before going to my mom's to pick up the baby. Yogurt accomplished I found that the baby was not at my mom's. Her sisters had her. I started walking towards my sister's house, where I was sure they were. Then it hit me. If they had the baby and were not looking for me why was I looking for them?

I turned to walk home, but decided to stop by Anna's house on the way. Last night we had planned to have a few shots of Agavera with her neighbor. The man who I have been dating then called to say he was in the area. The two of us walked to Anna's and sat at her table drinking a beer while we waited on her to put her groceries away. There was a knock on the door. I answered it. I was not expecting it to be the police.

We sat quietly as the family drama unfolded. Anna's daughter was arrested. The man I was with had an expression on his face I took to be due to awkwardness. As the drama came to an end and we all three walked out of Anna's house and headed to her neighbors, tequila in hand, I learned that it was not awkwardness at all but sense of wanting to help and not being able to do so. That is how I always feel in these situations too. We all, Anna included, enjoyed the night together while we sat talking until the sun went down.

Today she sent me a text saying that her daughter was back at home. She has only been out of jail a few weeks since her last long stay, so I was happy to hear this. She has struggled with drug addiction for her whole adult life. She looks so healthy right now. We all hope she has reached a turning point. I stopped by to hear the details. We sat and talked over a few glasses of wine. I was drinking slowly because I knew the baby would show up soon. When she did she really enjoyed crawling around outside. She liked watching the dogs play, but was sure to keep her distance. By the time we came home she desperately needed a bath.

Before all of this. Before I started looking for the baby, but after the yogurt I went outside. I looked at the room Jason had died in. Suddenly I knew what I needed. Lately, especially when I am feeling happy or normal the picture of Jason hanging from the rafter has been floating behind my eyes. I am afraid to look others in the eye in case they can see it too. I walked up and started talking. Then I realized it was not a good time to lose it. I needed to wait until night time so I could be alone.

Now that I am alone, the baby is asleep, and the other kids are staying the night with friends, I feel the emotions building. I keep picturing one of the evenings soon after he overdosed on meth. Some of his friends and family members wanted to see him now that he was out of the hospital. It turned into an impromptu party/campfire at my house. Jason was not up to seeing that many people yet. He took some sleeping pills and crashed on my bed. I still remember how happy I was every time I peaked in my room and found him alive. A friend sat looking at the fire and said it had been a hard week, especially for me. I responded that I had had a great week. I could have spent the evening burying my son, instead I was celebrating that he was still alive.

Now I realize even more how much I had to be thankful for, everything can be lost in an instant. The next scene that pops in my head is of finding him hanging. His face is calm and relaxed looking. His lips and tongue are a dark purple, almost black. The phrase, "That really happened" keeps running through my head.

There is a part of me that does not believe I deserve happiness. The fact that I do sometimes smile and laugh is a sign of what a crappy mother I am. I know that I have to keep pushing through this until I do reach a place where I can be happy. Not like before, but as the person I am now. I a person who will always feel a great loss, but who had vowed to live her life anyway.

Stress

I am a mess tonight. Any sort of stress sends me crying these days. Today was not a bad day, but it had its moments. I woke early and decided to go grocery shopping. I had not been intending to decorate Jason's grave today. For one reason I still think of Memorial Day as a day we honor vets, but mostly because I have never relied on a calendar to tell me when to think of someone. I feel the same way about Valentine's day. If a man is only going to act sweet and romantic one day a year because society tells him he should then I would rather he not bother.

Then a few people mentioned it to me, Rolando bought flowers for Jason's grave, and I felt guilty. So I decided that while I was shopping I would pick up flowers. At the store I looked over my list, saw that I was done, and headed to check out. Suddenly I remembered I was going to get flowers. I had forgotten them. I had forgotten the one thing I was going to do for him. I started crying in the store.

By time I had checked out and loaded the groceries in the car I felt better. Then on the drive home for some reason, it escapes me now, I was thinking about why I stayed in the same small town all of these years. I had wanted to give my children roots. I wanted them to have a place they called their hometown. I think some of my siblings would have been better adjusted adults if they would not have had to deal with the stress of always being the new kid as a child.

For all of my good intentions nothing changed. Jason still died. Tears flowing again. The thing is I cannot save anybody. I am trying to give my nieces a stable home for as long as I can, but it will not change anything. No matter how much I try to help the same problems will still course through my family and society flowing down the generations.

The drive was over. The kids helped carry in groceries. I felt better. A glass of wine with Anna and her husband, cookout with the Rolando's family, and then a game of Loteria and I was feeling happy. I took the girls for a walk. My nephew came along on his bike. It was a peaceful evening. I did not make it out to the cemetery, but I was fine with that.

Then after I had cuddled up with the baby and fell asleep my phone rang. It was Drama Queen. I did not answer it. She never calls at midnight with pleasant things to say. I drifted off again. My phone was buzzing as she sent me several messages.  I should not have read them, but I did. She said a few hateful things about me being a drunk and a hot mess. I ignored that. Then she told me she was giving the baby to her dad for the summer. I love this baby. Hopefully I'm wrong, or Drama Queen was lying, but I do not think this is a good idea.  The stress of worrying about this baby's future has brought me to full blown sobbing.

If I can go to sleep now I can sleep for five hours.

Nieces

I have not posted in a while, not even sure why. I have plenty to say. Having spent a lot of time driving has given me time to think out several posts. I just do not post them. Partly because having a baby is exhausting. At forty I thought I was firmly out of this stage of my life. Now that I am back in it for a while I remember how little else gets done when there is a baby in the house. Partly because I seem to be having trouble communicating lately.

After the kids had been here a week I drove Beezus and the baby back to Wichita. Beezus had a doctors appointment and I thought my sister would like to see the baby. Ramona refused to go. She was afraid her mom would try to keep her. My plan was to drop the girls off and drive on to Lawrence to see Lee. Of course that all hinged on how my sister was doing. On the phone she sounded better. She was trying to detox and get sober so she could get her kids back. That morning she looked stable. She was sober, but had the morning shakes. I hung around for a couple of hours to make sure before continuing on my way.

The time with Lee is exactly what I needed. He looked good. We talked about cooking, mixing drinks, movies, and life. We went to see the movie Under The Skin at the Liberty. I enjoyed the movie, but felt slow because I left the theater with so many questions. I left after a late breakfast the next day. It was a short visit, but worth the drive.

Beezus had another appointment the next week. She has been having stomach issues that have eluded diagnosis. This time she wanted to stay with her mom. She was ready to move back home. It was obvious that she was moving back because of a boyfriend and friends, but she is fifteen  now. That seems old enough to be able to make a few of her own mistakes. A drove to Wichita, dropped her off, and drove the four hours home. At that time Drama Queen was sure that she would be driving down to pick up the baby in a couple of weeks. That would have been this week we are starting today. At the time I really hoped she was right.

Last Monday I was exhausted. I had had a long weekend, which will deserve a post of its own. All day I kept thinking of the nap I was going to take as soon as possible. On the drive home from work Beezus called me. She was frantic, crying and hard to understand. Eventually I understood that her mom was drinking and violent again. She was outside the apartment and afraid to go back in. I could hear my sister yelling at her. A neighbor volunteered to drive her to Great Bend. This was a stroke of luck because it shortened my driving time by an hour, and I could avoid dealing with Drama Queen. I picked up Ramona, made a thermos of tea, and drove to get her. I did finally get to bed at two in the morning. 

Now that I am not expecting to have this baby back with her mother in a short time period I am settling into the role and enjoying it. Today I noticed that her top two teeth are coming in. It was calm and cool last night. The girls wanted a fire. While I built one I called my other niece over to roast hotdogs. It was the baby's first fire. She loved it. She waved her little hands and talked to the flames. My two youngest nieces, Ramona and Mimi, told me that I was their favorite aunt because I did fun things with them. It warmed my heart.

*See, I had to stop in the middle of writing this to feed the baby and put her back to sleep. Babies do not understand that they should not interrupt a person early in the morning. If you are awake this is a time to reflect. They are so uncivilized.

Spring is just a thought

It has been sprinkling off and on all day. The dirt has also been blowing all day. Basically it is raining mud. Except for when the sprinkling stops. That is when the dirt sticks to every drop of moisture to be found. After fighting its way through dirt filled clouds the sunlight has a tan cast to it. Add all this together and our world looks like a sepia photo from the past.

 On days like today it is easy to remember that the plains have not recovered from all of the damage that caused the dust bowl. Experts say it will take centuries for them to fully recover, if we continue to take care of them. Lessons from the past are easily forgotten, especially when money is to be made by forgetting them. I do not have much faith in humans as stewards of the earth. We have all the potential to do a great job of it, but are blinded by short term gains.

I want to go outside and enjoy spring. The lilacs are blooming, strawberries plants and asparagus are up, but it is too miserable to be outside. I am instead enjoying the last remnants of a cozy winter. Soon it will be over a hundred outside and I will miss sitting here wrapped in a blanket drinking hot chocolate. Today, during my lunch break, I am enjoying that. I am also enjoying a quiet house while the kids are at school. Having three extra kids means quiet time is harder to find.

My birthday party/date

A man I have known for years asked me out last week. I hesitantly agreed.  Before Jason became sick I only dated men inappropriate for a long term relationship. I knew I was not ready to make any commitments any time soon. While Jason was sick I did not have the time or energy to date. Now I am pretty sure I am not stable enough for a relationship. This is a man I have known for years. He is smart, funny, and kind. I have known for a year or two that eventually he would ask me out, if he ever met me in a social setting. I was invited to a party a few weeks ago that I knew he would be at. I went and had a good time. We were drunk; he kissed me. I went home without giving him my number. He messaged me on Facebook and mentioned that he did not have my number. I messaged him back, but did not give him my number until a week later when he point blank asked for it. I was not trying to be rude, but that was a hard week for me, and I feel like he may be a suitable boyfriend. I do not know if I am ready for one of those yet.

A week went past before he asked me out. We decided Friday would be a good night. Then on Thursday I realized that Friday was Rolando's birthday. He has been a blessing for the whole family for years, but it was really apparent when Jason was sick. He took an active part in his recovery. He checked on him daily while I worked. He did everything he could to support him. Then when he died he did everything he could to support me. I asked Miss Universe if anybody had made plans to celebrate. Nobody had thought to do anything. I offered to make cake and dinner. Suddenly actual party plans began to form. 

I sent a text to my date. "Not probably the best first date choice, but would you mind a birthday party tomorrow night? There will be food." My family can be a bit overwhelming at first. At a party we are loud, vulgar, and drink copiously. If I wanted to scare him off this might be just the thing to do it.

The night of the party he sent me a text. "To make the first date more interesting I may have my daughter." His youngest daughter is twelve. She was not going to be a problem for me, but I did wonder if he would regret exposing her to us.

I was making rum punch when Drama Queen called. She was drunk and not making much sense. Suddenly it dawned on me that she was saying her girls were on the way to my house. She was not sure when they left Wichita, but wanted me to make sure they came to my house and not to their dad's house. She made me promise to keep all three of them together. The baby has a different dad. She was afraid the older girls dad would take them. He was threatening to take the baby too.None of this was making any sense to me.

After talking to my mom it became slightly more clear. My sister had been drunk the night before. She locked all three of the girls outside of their apartment. Every since Jason died she has been threatening suicide. Beezus called her dad. He called a distant relative of his that lived in Wichita. She went to check on the girls and called the police. The police told Drama Queen that they were not going to release the girls back to her, but would release them to my mom. This girl offered to drive them to us, which was sweet of her. During the drive here the dad kept texting her telling her she had to take them to him. She was confused so at my mom's place she called the Wichita police. They told her to release them to their grandmother.

My sister is not the best mom, but she is the better choice of their two parents. He lives 17 miles from me, yet in all the years the girls lived with me he rarely took time to see them. He is only interested in them when he wants to fight with their mom. The two of them both love the action of fighting with each other. Often the girls are pawns in the game. He has a drug problem to match her drinking problem.  Beezus is old enough to try to pit them against each other to get her way. Ramona just wants to live a calm life with me. Then there is the baby.

The girls were here in time for the party. So our date was a loud party, with his daughter, and a crying baby. She was stressed out after being away from her mom for a whole day and now in a crowd of people she did not know. Over-stimulated and too tired to sleep she cried for most of the evening. Fria Chica was tired too. She took the baby home with her to sleep.

The teenagers went out and started us a campfire. We carried our drinks outside to sit around the fire. In the past Miss Universe, who is insane, has said she would love to wear adult diapers and just sit anywhere and piss. The crowd had shrunk as the night wore on. She stated that she had to piss, but did not get up. a few minutes later she stood and unbuttoned her pants. I thought she was going to piss on the fire. Instead she pulled one of those blue hospital pads, the ones they cover the beds with,  out of her pants and threw it on the fire. She had found the pad in my bathroom. While Jason was in the Amarillo hospital, after his od, they opened a package and charged the whole thing to us. Being frugal I brought the rest home with me to find a use for. That was not the use I intended.

My date sent a text the next day saying that he had had a great time. He left before the pad in the fire incident.  He wanted to go out again on Saturday, but I felt like I should take a turn with the baby instead of sticking my mom with her all weekend. She is going to have to babysit all week while I work.

life

It is interesting to me how different people are in the night as compared to how they are in the morning. At least I am anyway, so I assume most people are. In the night I am more susceptible to my fears. I worry more. In some ways I am more creative. I wonder if it is not the dark we are afraid of, but our own thoughts. In the mornings I am confidant and practical. I am creative, but in a more organized manner.

As an example, look at my last post. It was night; every negative thought seemed to be soaked in truth. I could not believe I would ever be myself again.  Yesterday morning I read something somebody wrote that said, "having kids doesn't change who you are." There was no context to it, just a statement hanging out there. I thought I had ignored it and went on. Later in the morning I had stumbled onto a learning site called memrise.com. I have been slowly trying to become fluent in Spanish for over fifteen years so I was trying out their Spanish session.  I mentally stepped back and looked at myself. I was curled on my couch wrapped in a blanket, cup of tea in hand, trying to learn something. Unbidden the thought, "Losing a child does not change who you are either."  I knew it was the truth. I love my son and could never have imagined living without him, but I am. My grief will always be a part of me. On low days, and lower nights, it will take control, but it will not change me or keep me from enjoying life as much as I can.

Normally I am not walking around repeating clichés, but the morning I found Jason I kept silently repeating the phrase "life is for the living."  Instinctively I knew I had to remind myself to focus on my two living sons. The mantra helped me make it through the morning without breaking down. It helped me to clear my mind and make arrangements for my other children to be told about their brother, and arrangements for Jason's body as well.  Later, Grace told me about a couple she knew that forgot they had other children the day they lost a child. They had to be reminded about them. I can understand that. The shock and pain are enough to damage the mind. Slowly I am healing, learning to live again.

sleepless night

Earlier I read Clash of Kings until I my eyes were shutting on their own. I slept until 12:30. Now I am awake. As I woke I received a text from Lee telling me my gumbo was great. The jambalaya was too salty, so I should try again and resend it. I had froze some food and mailed it to him last week. I miss cooking for him. I was worried because Lane is not home yet, and he always has trouble going to school on Mondays. I was in the middle of sending him a text when I remembered there is no school tomorrow. So the text was revised to ask where he was and tell him I love him. This paragraph is a jumbled mess. I know that, but that is how my mind is feeling right now.

Something is keeping me awake. Something is making me feel like I should run, scream, do something. What is bothering me? My mind jumps from worry about Lane to worry about Lee. He is between jobs. I worry that he will not find another good one. That I will not be able to keep helping him financially until he does. That somehow I will fail. Maybe my failure as a parent will hinder my children in their adult lives.

My mind keeps running over the day. There was a long period when I was annoyed by a sibling and my mom. I wanted them to go home. Why should they have to leave and be alone at their houses because I am a bitch? I need to learn to be more generous. Later, I wanted everybody to leave so I can be alone. Now I am alone and wish someone were here.

I am replaying my role in conversations tonight, and conversations last weekend at the wedding. Thinking about things I have said, things I have not expressed well, jokes I should not have made, all of them make me cringe. More than cringe, I feel I am beating against myself from the inside. I realize I do not like myself. How do I become somebody I can like again? What does one do when the person who annoys you is one's self?

I was asked to celebrate 4/20 today. Not being much of a smoker the novelty of it did appeal to me so I half heartedly agreed. The stipulation being that I needed to put all of the food up from our holiday meal first. There was a part of me quietly saying that this was a bad idea. I did not understand why until my eyes landed on a picture of Jason. My first thought was "Why? Why aren't you still here with me?" I understood then that I am just not mentally strong enough for an altered state of consciousness.

Also, I was getting really tired. I was too the point where I wanted everybody to leave so I could be alone for awhile. I love my friends and family, but I need so much more time alone than I used to. I excused myself from the smoking. They apologized for even asking me. That made me laugh. It is ok to ask if it is ok for me to decline.

So here I am alone and thinking of my son. Exactly where I need to be for now.

Maybe a happy post for a change, wouldn't that be nice? I can't say I am exceptionally happy this morning, but I am content. That is not totally due to the fact that I drank a glass of wine for breakfast. It is a beautiful day out. I have put a roast in for Easter dinner and am about to start some brioche dough. I just feel good today. Of course I have to do all the things I should have done yesterday, like dishes, peeling potatoes, cleaning the yard for an egg hunt. I find myself working extra hard on the good days to make up for the laziness of the low days .I do still have so much to be thankful for. Yes, life can be hard, but it is also beautiful.

Another low day

After having a good week today has been low day. I felt alright this morning, but as the day wore on I could feel my mood sinking. I wanted to be alone.  Relief swept over me when work was over and I could come home. On the ride home I kept tearing up and almost crying, but I could not quite do it. After so many days of pushing the tears away so I could function they were stuck and would not come when I needed them.

Lane and I watched the most recent Red Dawn movie. It almost made me cry a couple of times. Afterwards I was exhausted and decided to take a nap. Grace had invited me over for supper tonight. She was making home made beef noodles, which are excellent. Her daughter, who is also a good friend, and granddaughter, and brother were in town to visit. Her brother is a man I enjoy having long conversations with.  As I lied down I knew I was not going to feel like leaving my house again today. I did not think I would make it to dinner. I decided to scroll through Facebook before I fell asleep.

A teacher had posted a note she found while cleaning out her desk. Jason had took one of her customized post it notes, which had her name on it, and left a note saying that he loved her. That opened the tear gates; suddenly they were unstuck. That was the kind of person Jason was. He would rummage through a teachers desk, hack her Facebook page if she left her phone laying around, play pranks, but he always let people know he loved them.

My face was swollen and red when I left, but I made myself get dressed and drive to Grace's house. I drove slow and made myself quit crying halfway there. Once on the dirt road I slowed down and applied make up to cover the blotching. The noodles were good, but the company was better. My mood did not completely lift, however I did enjoy myself while I was there. I came home early to go to bed.

Once in bed I opened my laptop. It had downloaded an update, but insisted I plug into a power source before it was installed. "What else?" I thought. I felt as if the whole universe were against me. Honestly, I did not even have to get out of bed to plug it in. I may be getting a bit over dramatic.

I have been having a good days lately. Until today, today, I was off a bit. I went about my normal schedule. I went to work, talked, read, cooked supper for my family. I even helped my niece and nephew make Easter treats for their school parties. Even though nobody could, tell my grief was always there close to the surface today.

On a side note: those cute little yarn eggs with a piece of candy inside them are a bitch to make. First of all candy does not want to go inside of a balloon. I shredded several balloons trying to shove candy in. I think about every third balloon was successfully filled and blew up. Of those successful ones about a third of them had a tiny hole that caused them to go flat eventually. The up side was that I got to peel a lot of dried glue from my hands and table.

I know the minute my grief shot back up. I felt it rush to the surface last night. About a year ago an annoying man told me that I would be surprised if I googled my own name. He assured me that every picture that I put on Facebook would show up. I went home and tried that very night. No pictures of me showed up at all. For some reason I thought of that last night and tried again. All but one of the pictures that came up had nothing to do with me. One picture did, it was of Jason. It must have been a homecoming ceremony picture. He was wearing his basketball uniform. His hair was still sweaty from the game. One of his relatives on his dad's side, a woman he had never met, put his obit up on a find a grave website. It did not bother me that she did this, but somehow having it there, reading his obit again, the picture of him looking so alive, just jarred me.

This is the first year in my adult life I have waited until past the deadline to file my taxes. I could do them tonight but I think I will lie in bed and read instead. This is the first night I have been in my bed before midnight in almost a week.

A couple of weeks ago Grace called me and asked if I wanted to go to a 'gay wedding' with her. Of course I was in. Then she told me it was in Roswell, which happens to be six hours away. That sounded even better. I wanted to get out of town for awhile. We left early Saturday and came home Sunday evening.

It was worth the trip. The wedding was lovely. It almost made my cold jaded heart cry, almost. One of the men getting married was Grace's cousin. His mom was not going so Grace wanted to be there for him. His dad and grandmother did show up. More of his family was supportive than we thought would be. It was a simple backyard ceremony. The focus was on the ceremony and then food and drink. There vows were adapted Unitarian vows. As they walked down the aisle I caught his eye and smiled. I saw the 'who in hell was that' look in his eye. I do not think he expected to have a perfect stranger there. After the calmer, read less fun, people left we sat in the yard late into the night drinking and laughing with the couple and their friends.

The weekend away was just what I needed. I had been back to a low place last week. I was trying to laugh and enjoy life, but found myself drinking too much and doing too little. As we drove back across the desert landscape I found myself making plans for projects I want to get done this summer. A voice at the back of my head said, "If you are going to live, live."

I am pleasantly drunk right now.   There is probably a rule about posting drunk. Lane turns eighteen tomorrow. We had a family dinner tonight to celebrate. Lane and his cousins and friends ate, but left early to celebrate on there own. We went ahead and finished the sparkling wine without him. Then we moved on to the peach moscato. I am usually a merlot girl, but some occasions call for sweet wines.

I do not drink too often. Once a week is a busy month for me. That is kind of unfortunate, because I am such a happy drunk. Right now I am splurging. Last night I wanted a glass of wine so I invited Lady over and we drank a bottle plus half of a tequila shot. Tonight my sister and I drank three bottles of sweet wine. I have a wedding to attend this weekend. This may be the month I go a bit crazy.

Night time thoughts

Dreams are waking me up again. They keep me awake when I should be sleeping. Tomorrow I will wish I could sleep when I cannot. I am physically exhausted yet unable to sleep.

Drama Queen tried calling me again at midnight. I woke up just long enough to silence the call. I never intended to go so long without talking to her, but whenever she calls I think 'not today, I just do not have the energy today.'

The other day Lane told me that he wants Lee to move back home and live with us. I know how he feels. I miss my son and want us all to live closer to each other. On the other hand I am worried about Lane. He had planned on joining the Navy until Jason died. Now he is not sure what to do, but is sure he does not want to leave home.