So it's approaching. One year since my dad died. Grief is funny - it sneaks up on you once you think you're ok and reached some sort of acceptance, something pops into your head when you least expected. A year ago - I would have said I have a pretty healthy grieving process - I've lost grandparents and aunts and uncles and great aunts and great uncles and pets and friends and yet nothing really prepares you for losing a parent. I don't know if I'm doing it right - but I get up each day, put my pants on one leg at time and carry on - that's the plan anyway.
Everyone deals with the grasp on mortality a little different. The religious are convinced that the loved one is in heaven and safe and good. I don't really believe in the heaven/hell concept. But if there is one adage my Dad referred to was - although pessimistic and depressing, 'You start dying the day you are born' and the other classic one was 'After you die - you just die, you are put in the ground and become worm bait.' So someone asked me - knowing that my religious convictions are on that border line between non-existent and recovering if losing my dad has brought me back to Christianity. I think that quite the opposite has occurred. My dad was not a religious man - he believed what he wanted to believe and what that was I'll never know. But in the end -- we all die, Jesus will not save you from death or becoming worm bait. I guess the biggest thing that happened was the confirmation that it doesn't matter. You can believe in whatever you want - and pray as hard as you want but it doesn't change things that have or haven't happened - it can make you feel better and that can cause change - but you don't get to pray for an undo.
This may seem juvenile or selfish but I jealous when I think about things in life yet to come and how it'll be different without having my dad. Like today for instance - Clinton's dad was on the phone with his granddaughter talking about the Easter bunny coming and what she got in her basket. My dad would have been a good grandpa - a little cranky but good but I'll never really know. Or when I'm watching a chick flick movie and the bride and father have the father-daughter dance- not that I'm a big wedding person - but now I'll never have that option for the dorky dance. It's also weird to refer to everything as my mom's now - my mom's house, having Clinton meet my mom - instead of meet my parents. Or like today - I talked to my mom on the phone while at Clint's - and she said to say happy easter to everyone. So I said to Clint's mom - that my mom says Happy Easter. She then inquires oh well what are they doing? I don't know how to reply - So I just say that my mom and brother and sister are just hanging out making cake. It some how ends up sounding like my parents are divorced or I'm omitting my dad on purpose - but I just don't know what they know and I don't always feel like sharing for fear I'll start crying and being emotional girl. Then Clint who refers to his parent's as the folks - said 'I needed to get back to my folks' place for dinner' as we were leaving the brunch - so maybe he feels awkward too - or it was just a singular/plural slip up. Then there is the other obvious possibility and that is that I'm cranky and irritable and overly emotional due to having my period.
Growing up, my mom has always been a little chubby. She's adorable and cute and wears dorky faux denim leggings and yeah she's my mom so I love her.
I never had a mom that wanted me to be a barbie doll - she in fact wouldn't let me play with such self esteem distructors.
But last week - something happened that has never happened before. My mom can now fit into my clothes. Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy that she's lost some weight, somewhere in the neighborhood of 40 pounds in the last year. But I'm also then reminded that once upon a time I was smaller and now I've put on a couple pounds.
But in any light she is just so excited that she can now shop in the ladies clothes and not in womens section we devouted a good afternoon to going shopping, buy some new outfits and then she came home and tried on my stuff too. It's like we are teenage sisters. But instead of wearing the latest fashion mistake we both dress in pretty classic standby outfits.
It's just a little weird to ask - Mom do you have my navy pants?
Onward to my sister -- since we have a good 5.5 years between us she thinks all my clothes are old lady clothes -- but just wait - I'm sure when she starts job hunting she'll be stealing my navy pants too. Now sissy and I are about a size difference - but that is always subject to change i.e. similar to that of the polls 1+/1-.
So to head of anyone even thinking about swiping my favorite jeans -- I'm going to go get my mom a pair of real life jeans since it's probably been several decades since she's owned them and they can be her cute butt jeans and she will leave mine alone!
So when my dad was alive he was constantly popping from window to window to see the wildlife frolicking in the back yard. We made fun of him for this - in the nicest way possible. Once in awhile he'd have to shoot at something like a woodchuck.
I'm in the north metro area, not quite suburbs, not quite country. We have neighbors and traffic signs but the nearest stop light is a couple miles away. People shoot things out here, it's somewhat normal.
So anyways his window popping is now my mother's new hobby. She bought some bird feeders and a bird bath and wants binoculars for christmas --
Well, it's great,she has a hobby. She hasn't wanted to do much with her garden this year but this way she can watch the birds. Then call to me and my brother to come and see.
The critter patrol: We get deer, bunnies, squirrels, the neighbors dog and cat in our yard. All will vanish once spotted except for the squirrels.
The birds: My mom is so excited about the cardinals and blue birds, and finches and orioles, the woodpeckers and all the other pretty birds that some how she fails to recognize that the 400 black birds in the yard is quite disgusting.
No I am not exaggerating. I thought I was in a Hitchcock film - when I'm just sitting here in the kitchen.
My cats get jelouse when she goes outside to fill the feeders.
The squirrels have some how managed to figure out how to get the food from the squirrel proof feaders and this makes my mother mad.
So she will scream out the window - instructing the squirrels in a stern voice to get out and get down.
Then the other night - we had a cricket outside the kitchen window, chriping away as crickets do. My cat was going ape shit wanting to kill the shrill sound and my mother - sternly yell'd out the window to stop chirping. The cricket however did not respond.
This behavior has been repeated over and over -- I got up - sick of my mom and now my brother yelling out the window like morons at an insect that doesn't even have an acorn for a brain. I simply shut the window and then there was silence. No more chirrping annoying cricket.
Soo my brother just ordered pizza.
He asked me to get the door when it came -- In my sisterly voice refused.. I can be a brat sometimes. Oh well.
So he said gosh - I need to shower then.
Shower to get the pizza when it comes to the door? Are you that vain?
I'm not vain - I just don't want to look like a bum who eats pizza all day.
So I agreed to get the door -- he wouldn't have that -- noo
Instead he decided to get the pizza in his underwear. I guess if you aren't going to shower for the delivery person - you might as well forget to put on clothes too.
So much for vanity and looking like bum...
So it's been three months since my dad died. My mom has decided that she wants to wait to intern his ashes until she passes so they can be buried together. Okay that's fine, it's her choice.
So there have been a slew of people at the office that have recently lost parents. I was talking to Steve one of my co-workers about grief since he just lost his mom. Steve and Jim used to be my cube mates -- and they've always been my work dads -- wanting to know if the boyfriend is good enough, random happenings etc -- caring and protecting of moi- Punky Poo. So Steve and I get into a conversation about loss.
And pretty soon we are sitting there talking about cemetary plots, rules and regulations for certain cemetaries. Cremation vs. Full Burials. Nosy people wanting to know about wills and finances etc.
Steve O said he wished that Dave could have met my Dad cause it would have been a great story to hear. and here I am -- trying to keep it together.
Creating another awkward moment for the office.
Ok so it all started awhile back -- some friends made me listen to npr podcasts for an unreasonable amount of time.
Something happenned -- I think I was hypnotized or subliminal message has had an effect on me but now with out at least 8 hours of NPR goodness a day I simply can't function.
So yes, my nerdieness has reached another high -- I love npr and pbs.
SO this week on the radio there was this big dicussion about alcohol and turning back the age to 18 -- of course it was else where but I mostly just listened to the discussion on the radio.
Ok so everyone drinks before 21. For me I don't know I was 15 or something when I went on a bike ride with Julie over to Maxine's house -- we had a couple grasshoppers - or maybe just one but, we were silly and then I had to bike ride the 6 miles back to my house (yes, I was a big bike rider in those days... 6 miles was nothing back then... ) We had some difficulties a little swerving action but we were fine by the time we rented movies and went to go watch them...
Then when I turned 18 my mom, myself and my friend Sonya hung out in my kitchen drinking boons farm, smoking cigarettes and scratching off lottery tickets. Party of the year it was not, but it was a good time.
I guess I'm more relaxed with drinking age- if people are taught that you should just be responsible don't get out of hand have some fun. Maybe it's because my dad was a recovering alcholic for the majority of his life and alcholism runs in our family, pretty thick on both sides and since we were old enough to understand it - it's been talked about in our house. And my siblings and I seem to be pretty well balanced in the booze department. My brother however made this proclaimation before he was 21 that he would never drink a drop -- that didn't stick but we were all taught that you can have some fun but should be able to function.
So yeah -- bring down the age -- after a few year the kids will get over it and maybe it won't be such a center stage for everything.
So, after reading a few of my entries you might think that I have a mild addiction to food. Well, I like food -- and in most instances I eat in moderation. I do have indulgences that need to be met i.e. chocolate, diet coke, salty treats to counteract the large quantities of sweets.
But seriously, I eat in moderation and generally enjoy food. However, my brother seems to think that a nutrious breakfast constitutes eating brats or hamburgers? Every day during the week he sticks to his high fiber oatmeal or oatmealesque dry cereals. But on the weekends -- he eats meat for breakfast. I just don't understand this. But, afterall I had a slice of French Silk pie for breakfast -- what? I wanted to eat it before the bottomless pit I call my brother got to it.
More random facts about my brother since I haven't really blogged about him. He's sick and wrong in so many ways, but we all love him just the same.
1) He likes to run. This is almost proof that he was dropped off by a stork instead of being blood related to our family. No body likes to run.
2) He likes old fuddy music -- he's 24 he goes to jazz concerts and likes Chic Korea in ways I will never understand.
3.) He eats alot -- maybe it's because he runs... maybe he just loves eating brats, burgers and other dinner time food for breakfast? But I know I have to put my name on the Klondike bars if I want to have any for dessert.
4.) He's embarrassed to buy toilet paper. So I've been tryign to help him overcome his fear by not buying it for the house -- I don't think this is working cause my mom ultimately feels bad about him getting blush faced when he has to buy it -- I mean seriously -- there are way worse things to buy and get embarrassed about. Maybe it's that we buy the super jumbo pack -- and he just doesn't want the world to know that he shits - like everyone else.
5.) He talks to much. He's an expert on most things and frankly it gets a little annoying when I want some piece n quite and he wants to have a political debate. Hellooo I'm trying to beat my scramble score - don't talk to me!
So my grandma is 84 -- she's pretty hip though -- she has a little email device to stay in touch with everyone. And she loves forwards!
Today's forward, was pretty good - I hadn't seen it before -- but then again I don't really read them much - and I read hers in case she added a little note.
Garfiel on the Oil Crisis
A lot of folks can't understand how we came to have an oil shortage here in our country.
Well, there's a very simple answer.
~~~ Nobody bothered to check the oil.
~~~ We just didn't know we were getting low.
~~~ The reason for that is purely geographical.
~~~ Our OIL is located in
~~~ Alaska
~~~ California
~~~ Coastal Florida
~~~ Coastal Louisiana
~~~ Kansas
~~~ Oklahoma
~~~ Pennsylvania and Texas
~~~ Our DIPSTICKS are located in Washington , DC!!! Any Questions??? NO? Didn't think So.
