Friday Morning

Where I should be: at my staff meeting in Milwaukee
Where I actually am: sitting in Kinko's at the internet terminal, in Green Bay

Good for me. I actually couldn't do the "function well" thing today. In fact I prefer not to function today. I dropped the kids off at school and then went to the beach and cried. I had nothing specific that I was particularily sad about, just though a good cry might be cathartic. And it wasn't

So, I did something that I never do when I am in this bad shape. I picked up the phone and called someone. I know, people have been sincerely telling me, "call me anytime." But really, do people really want me to call them when I am sobbing and hysterical. I think not. But today I called Cindy, my brilliant friend and colleague in Gary, IN.

Her response was something of brilliance:

1st: She got me to stop being hysterical. By asking me things like, "did you sleep?" "did you take the girls to school" "do you have enough coffee and cigarettes to get through this phone call"

2nd: She made me feel that I had accomplished something monumental simply by taking the girls to school and said that I had made the right judgement by not going to my staff meeting.

3rd: She engaged me in something totally different: training. And said things that made me feel like the work that I have been doing recently in that department is making a national impact.

4th: She went back to helping me talk through what is really going on in my head. And I could talk about my lack of ambition, my "I don't give a fuck attitude," my struggle with knowing that I have to create a whole new life, and my desire not to do anything about that....and without me sobbing to no end, I could say those things. And she could respond with suggestions.

So per Cindy here is what I am going to try and do today:
1. Not beat myself up about anything. Really.
2. Go have a strong cup of coffee somwhere and refect and write, write anything.
3. Play on the internet.
4. Do two loads of laundry for practical reasons, one load for me, one for the girls...that should buy me several days and it will make the hysterics about the laundry not so intimidating.
5. Take a nap as soon as I know I can fall alseep.
6. Eat something that is interesting and that you don't have to cook, i.e. go somewhere nice for lunch today.
7. Let everything else go. Let nothing make you feel guilty or self-indulgent about the above list. Do it, because doing it is actually work.

Wow. Practical, non-work advice from an organizer. See, I called wanting the answer to "what work should I do next" and got something much more helpful. And I could have created this list on my own, but having an "organizer's approval" that my list and her list aren't so different made me feel justified in my actions.

And I know, I don't need to feel justified. But I do not need to worry that I am not keeping up and that I am letting my colleagues down. Becasue while I could give a fuck less about work, I do care quite a bit about "my people."

So. Cross one thing off the list. The internet has been suffieciently played on.
Next thing to cross off: strong cup of coffee and some quite reflection.

I can and will do this. I am not going to give up on life and hope and friendship. In fact, I think in my calling Cindy today I may have taken a very brave step torwards actually admitting that I need help. And for those of you who know my insides, that is sooooo scarry. I don't want people to see how screwed up I can be, how messy my house it, how pale I look today.

But I must let the world in, or I may never escape.

And just in from Italy....thank you Molly! (She said she would send this to me as we were having a conversation about raising children, and I said: my greatest fear for Grace and Margaret is if they turn out to be republicans! This rules!

Subject: research Shows REPUBLICANISM TO BE GENETIC IN ORIGIN

REPUBLICANISM SHOWN TO BE GENETIC IN ORIGIN
From Maryse Schild of the PD support group

The discovery that affiliation with the Republican Party is genetically
determined was announced by scientists in the current issue of the
journal NURTURE, causing uproar among traditionalists who believe it is
a chosen lifestyle. Reports of the gene coding for political
conservatism, discovered after a decades-long study of quintuplets in
Orange County, CA, has sent shock waves through the medical, political,
and golfing communities.

Psychologists and psychoanalysts have long believed that Republicans'
unnatural disregard for the poor and frequently unconstitutional
tendencies resulted from dysfunctional family dynamics -- a remarkably
high percentage of Republicans do have authoritarian domineering
fathers
and emotionally distant mothers who didn't teach them how to be kind
and
gentle. Biologists have long suspected that conservatism is inherited.
"After all," said one author of the NURTURE article, "It's quite common
for a Republican to have a brother or sister who is a Republican."

The finding has been greeted with relief by Parents and Friends of
Republicans (PFREP), who sometimes blame themselves for the political
views of otherwise lovable children, family, and unindicted
co-conspirators.

One mother, a longtime Democrat, wept and clapped her hands in ecstasy
on hearing of the findings. "I just knew it was genetic," she said,
seated with her two sons, both avowed Republicans. "My boys would never
freely choose that lifestyle!" When asked what the Republican lifestyle
was, she said, "You can just tell watching their conventions in Houston
and San Diego on TV: the flaming xenophobia, flamboyant demagogy,
disdain for anyone not rich, you know." Both sons had suspected their
Republicanism from an early age but did not confirm it until they were
in college, when they became convinced it wasn't just a phase they were
going through.

The NURTURE article offered no response to the suggestion that the high
incidence of Republicanism among siblings could result from their
sharing not only genes but also psychological and emotional attitude as
products of the same parents and family dynamics.

A remaining mystery is why many Democrats admit to having voted
Republican at least once -- or often dream or fantasize about doing so.
Polls show that three out of five adult Democrats have had a Republican
experience, although most outgrow teenage experimentation with
Republicanism.

Some Republicans hail the findings as a step toward eliminating
conservophobia. They argue that since Republicans didn't "choose" their
lifestyle any more than someone "chooses" to have a ski-jump nose, they
shouldn't be denied civil rights which other minorities enjoy. If
conservatism is not the result of stinginess or orneriness (typical
stereotypes attributed to Republicans) but is something Republicans
can't help, there's no reason why society shouldn't tolerate
Republicans
in the military or even high elected office -- provided they don't
flaunt their political beliefs.

For many Americans, the discovery opens a window on a different
future. In a few years, gene therapy might eradicate Republicanism
altogether.

But should they be allowed to marry?

Ok, some days I get in fights easier than others. Today I will pick on someone that I have never met, nor ever read her blog. So, as I start reading her, this is what I find:

Which reminds me that Love and Beauty exist, and that politics and religion are illusions subscribed to by hordes afraid of direct interaction with the world.


Ahem. Where should I start with this comment.

Facts:
-Yes, love and beauty do exist
-Politics are not illusions, and if they are that would make me happy. Bush being a hologram would make me smile, but he is not. And the political process, while corrupt and disconnected from the "everyman of society" is still a very tangible process.
-Religion is another burrocracy; make money off of preying off the weakness and desires of others to believe that there IS something better beyond this world (sorry to all of you religous types, I just can't beleive in God or why Religion is the salvation of our counrty).
-Now, to contradict what I just worte: religion could be the salvation of politics if harnessed correctly, as if the fucking parishoners who prayed so damn much actually acted in the real world to improve the things that they prayed for.
"We pray for the poor." (And what do you actually do about dealing with poverty in America?)
-Next point: if we had a more just system for our political process and if religons were actually liberating people instead of opressing people, we all would have more time and energy for beauty and love.
-How much time does a working class woman with two children have to appreciate the beauty of the night sky? Ah, none.

So, to this woman I say this, "I wish I could believe in your lovely and simple observations, but to do that would be to ignore the realities (however cruel) of the world in which we all participate."

Huh. I just had political rant moment of the day. And it felt good. See, politics DO exist!

Notes From the Margin:

So, I think everyone has heard me bitch that my computer is not working. So, to compensate I carry around a leather journal. It is brand new and red. And fabulous. So, instead of running to my computer every time that I have a thought I simply open my journal and jot things down.

Here are some random thoughts that I have had in the past week or so.

"Why do fuckwits on airplanes think other people want to engage in small talk? I don't tell them about my goddamned life---so why can't they just shut the fuck up?"

This arose on a plane from Detroit to Cincinnati...I was sitting there quitely, happy to be ignored, and the people around me ALL wanted to socialize. And I did finally say outloud, "Why do people think that I care about their lives?" No one said another word to me on that flight.

"Can Frosithyia be other colors than yellow?"-Saw lots of yellow forsithyia in OH, but also swore that I saw white and magenta. In any case it was gorgeous.

"Frozen dinners for single people really do suck."
-I went grocery shopping for the first time since Henry went into the hospital...and realized how shitty it is to shop now. Buying lots of fresh vegetables for me seems like a waste, and cooking seems totally uninspired anyway. So, I purchased the lovely microwave dinners that I loathe. And then I had one for dinner last night and realized why I loathe them. I forgot how sucky it is to shop and cook when you are alone.

"How much red wine really is a bad thing?"
-Two glasses before bed has become the new standard in my house. I like it. I like watching it dance in the crystal goblets, and like how I it makes my head spin ever so slightly. Three glasses might send me over the edge, but two seems respectable. And the wine that I have been drinking has been great...a Bordeaux, a lovely bold Cabernet, and I recently aquired a bottle from South Africa. All good choices for a nightly companion.

"Do I want to work this summer?"
-Really, do I want to work today. Nope. I don't think that I want to work this summer either. Nope, nope, nope. I think I want to play outside, learn to use the riding lawn tractor, hang out at the cabin and make it comfortable again, plant and watch things grow, and travel recklessly. That sounds better than work. Yup.

"I wonder what the people sitting around me are thinking about me right this minute?"
-This as I sit in Borders, crying about who knows what. Then I decided that maybe I should look at the books about grief. I pick several out about what it means to be a widow. Then as I read them I start crying all over again...these books are written for widows that are 50-75. No one has written the widow book for "women under 30." Nope doesn't exist. And that made me cry. And then I had to start laughing at myself...and buy another cup of strong coffee and a chocolate/carmel brownie. Which I highly recommend over the greif counseling books.

Not much else to report. Cause I fucking haven't done anything! But, I have decided to embrace indulgence for today. I have to work Friday and Saturday afterall.

More another time....notes from the margin seem to be my only outlet. No word yet on computer. Maybe by Monday???

Thank you Jenica for the RED and the links. It makes my site seem a little more attractive and much more efficient.

So, I am sitting at Kinko's after going out to the bookstore and there is a man sitting about 6 terminals away talking in the LOUDEST indoor voice possible. Twice I have asked myself outloud, "Could that man be any louder?"

And then I heard what he was saying, "Hi, this is Joe from compan xxxx and I am calling to inform you that your order of lard will not be shipped until tomorrow."

LARD? Who orders lard? And who sells lard? And for what?

Hmmmm, interesting and bizzare questions to be pondering at the computer terminal.....

The White Box

(Note: do not read if you aren't in the mood for something sad and depressing)

From April 28th (23 days since Henry died)

I picked Henry up today. As in I went to the funeral home to claim the box that holds what is left of my husband. As the funeral director, Brad, handed me the box I desperately wanted to run out the door. But I stayed and accepted the plain white box with "Henry Geer Rogers II" typed neatly on the label. So this was it. I was going to take him home, in a small box. The box was surprisingly heavy-and then not so heavy if you think about the contents. I hated thinking about the contents.

Then I carried my husband out to the car. And broke down sobbing and screaming, "I don't want to do this anymore. I just want this to end." Then I drove the two of us out to the beach -- the lake is violent today; I feel the universe rage with me. And somehow that makes me feel better. The earth is upset, she lost a friend and ally.

Music playing in the background as I sit in my car,
"You remind me of a man I used to sleep with, that's a face I'll never forget." Jewel.

I got out of the car and went toward the surf, almost as if I was being summoned by the waves. I so wanted to be swallowed whole. Just take me. I surrender.

But I do not surrender. I turned abruptly; back to the driver's seat.

And I dared to open the box. I had to. I had to see for myself and answer all of the questions that were piling up in the shelves of my brain. I needed to see what Henry looks like these days. The ash and bone fragments were just as I had been told they would look, only no one said it would be nauseating. Henry used to always say to me, "Everything returns to the earth." And somehow the sickness that I felt turned poetic. I didn't feel grim looking at the dust, but a calmness eased the moment.

And the calmness ended. The waves are raging stronger now. They rage with me. All I wanted was to have him back. And now I do. All that made up the man is here now.

And somehow, oddly, today that is enough.

From Amy's blog this morning:

1: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first? My briefcase, a stapler, and white out.

2: What is the last thing you watched on TV? Do I have to admit it? I watched the last five minutes of American Idol last night and then turned the damn thing off. I will be watching the Bachelor tonight. Sick woman.

3: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is. 10:30

4: Now look at the clock; what is the actual time? 10:31 (the point of this?)

5: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? People talking on their cell phones, the keyboards of other people, terribly annoying elevator music. I am at Kinko's. Urg.

6: When did you last step outside? what were you doing? 7:30--into car to take children to school. I did get out of the car at a gas station en route to buy more coffee and gum.

7: Did you dream last night? Maybe? I dreamed the night before. Vividly. About living by the sea and having a pet doplhin. Very interesting...could happen right?

8: When did you last laugh? Not sure. I mean, I have laughed a lot in the past 24 hours. Ok, I lauged at Jenica and I making impulsive weekend plans via instant messaging to spend the weekend in Montreal. That is pretty funny. And impetuous. And yes, I do speak fluent French. Heehee. I am still laughing at us.

9: What is on the walls of the room you are in? Crappy advertisements not worth describing in detail.

13: Seen anything weird lately? The moldy shit that is growing in my refrig. That is pretty weird. Or maybe it is weird that I just left it there.

14: If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy first? I have no fucking clue. Maybe my own airplane so that I could go wherever I wanted, when ever I wanted without being searched by security. That would be nice. Seriously, if I had that kind of money, I would create a Foundation and make my colleagues and boss submit proposals to me...heh.

15: If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? I would end the two-party system in this country and 100% of the population would vote. Because it would matter. Lofty huh.

16: Do you like to dance? Yes. That does not equate to "can you dance?" (Amy's answer couldn't have said my sentiments any better)

17: George Bush Do I have to? I would do anything to never see his name in print nor his face on tv ever again. And I do mean ANYTHING (except sacrifice one of my children).

18: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her? Minerva. That is if I would ever have another girl. But I would call her Minnie.

19: Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him? Huh. No thoughts. I once loved Charlie.
But that would mean I would have to have a boy.

22: Would you ever consider living abroad? I would be living abroad right now if I wasn't so damn loyal to my family. France sounds great right now. And if I didn't have kids, I am sure that I would have dissappeared from my current life, oh, say two weeks ago.

Thanks Amy. This was a lovely distraction from the day!

Wednesday Morning. Posting from an internet terminal at Kinkos because I cannot get either one of my computers at home to work. And my office has been crashed too. Something called "spyware" has been attached to my computer programs causing the whole systems to shut themselves down.

Meaning no email and no blogging.

Shit. Do you realize how much time I spend on those two things alone? Heh.

Yesterday sucked. I went to work. I did the responsible thing. And I hated it. It made no difference to me about anything; I think I faked it well, but shit. It drained me. Picking up the girls from school drained me. I just wanted to pick up my cell phone and call Henry and say, "hey, get the girls tonight, would you?" But obviously that is not an option. Tiring this all is. My house is still a mess. I have done two, count them two, loads of laundry since Henry died. And the dishes are piling up, not terribly so, but maybe I should do them. And grocery shop. Haven't done that either. I really couldn't tell you what we have been eating...I mean I do make the girls things for dinner, but I am not so sure what I eat. I think I had crackers and wine last night. Not bad.

I talked on the phone last night for hours. I had a great conversation with Molly; mostly I was grumpy and shitty and she made it better by talking to me about summer plans and an interesting book idea. That kept me up thinking last night. Hmmm, will have to explore that concept.

Talked to Jenica for several minutes, not really having anything to say, except that I felt pathetic. She told me that I was doing OK, really....and that made me feel a tad bit better.

Talked to my brother John. He had a very funny story about going for an interview and realizing that he'd had sex with the guy interviewing him. When I asked, "How was it?" He said, "Awful. It was the worst sex that I had ever had." And I said, "Um, no....how was the interview?" We laughed a lot over that one. Sounds promising for the job anyway.

I wanted to call Liza and Betsy but I was too wiped. I will work on getting that accomplished today.

Oh, and I talked for two hours in the past two days to the woman at social security. Things might not be entirely hopeless...she is filing a claim on our behalf. I am not counting on that income, but shoud it come through I may deicide to take the summer off just to get my life settled in a bit. There is just so much to do, and I either 1) don't want to or 2) don't have the energy required.

I sound like I am just whinning. I guess I am. I am really not in a foul mood at all, just sort of pensive lately. I am glad to be doing work, but I just want everything to be smooth and "right" in my job; well that will never happen I tell you. So I take what I can. I have another staff meeting on Friday and then a meeting with my boss, so that will help me figure out what my priorities are.

The girls are good. This morning they were exceptional little people. They went back to sleeping in their own beds last night for the first time. It was great for me. I finally got my room back. And as much as I adore snuggling up with a five year old, it does start to loose its appeal. So, last night I fell asleep in my bed to the wonderful music of Nora Jones with candles lit everywhere. It was very soothing and tranquil. I think I found a new bed-time routine.

Now, I am off to go look at new computers, grocery shop, check out gyms in the area. And maybe even accomplish SOMETHING today! That would be a great thing.

And the sun is out and "they" are predicting 75 degrees...a "beach day." Maybe the girls and I will go wade in the surf after school.

I am still constantly searching for the things that make me smile, that comfort me, that make it easier to breathe.

Why work is good for me:

-It makes the day go fast
-I get to be ruthless and arrogant (because I know what the fuck I am doing)
-I know my organization better than anyone else
-I am furious that things are behind now, and working is necessary so that my event on May 15th is powerful
-I help people understand how they are connected to the world
-I agitated a pastor to be a better trainer...and he thanked me for it
-My leaders have started running meetings without agendas or a time frame in my absence...shame on them.
-My work makes me feel like, well ME.

I decided, on sort of a whim, that I needed work. Like I needed air. I missed that person who was clear and powerful and making an impact. It is boring to sit at home and look at the walls and know that there is a whole world out there that needs more people who care as much as I do. And while looking at the walls all day has been important, I think that I am ready to give that up.

So I went to three meetings today. And in six hours I did more work than I think most people acheive on a good day. Very satisfying.

I put on my black suit, or rather, one of my black suits: v-neck(low-cut) shirt, short skirt, and jacket. I wanted to put the "power organizer" back on. And I had a very "take no prisioners" attitude. I was short. I cut people off. And I minimized the *sympathy stare* and the excessive hugging. Not that there isn't a place for that...but I don't need that from my work people.

So, I have declared my office a "NO CRY ZONE" Meaning, if you think you are going to come into my office and cry to me that my husband died, well go fuck yourself.

I listened to the Jodi Messena song "I am alright" every minute that I was in the car as loud as I could stand and singing at the top of my lungs.

Things depend on me. I lost an entire month of moving my political agenda forward for the area. This even MUST be a success...and clearly, because I haven't been around, things have deteriorated. I hate that. So, I will work. I need to work. I like my job. But, mostly, I like that when I am working it is the closest I have felt to "being myself" in a very, very long time.

I know that I cannot use work as a way to escape from the grief or loss. But I can use work as a way to find my way back to a future life in politics. There is too much at stake this year for me not to. Damn, I love my fucking job.

I will work tomorrow all day again. See how long I can keep the attitude. I know I will not be working on Friday, nor Monday. So this is a good thing. I still appreciate the fact that I will need to take days to lounge in sweats and drink coffee. But I like knowing that not everything in my life has been taken away or changed with Henry's death. It is nice to feel that the *me* that Henry helped create, helped inspire, still exists....that I have not gone back to the woman that I was before he and I met. And that really is something significant today.

That, and I still know that I get whatever I want when it comes to my work life.

Shit. It was a great day.

Rain. Thunder. More rain. Pounding, intense rain. Dark sky. Very, very dark sky.

This is what the view from my window is this morning. Damn, and I was hoping that today would be a "productive" day. Yesterday I got absolutely nothing done. Unless you count a nap as personal progress towards something. I made pizza for the girls. Pasta for me. Talked to my mother for thirty minutes.

Small things. But I awoke this morning to a messy house. Clothes on the floor. Dishes in the sink.

Why can't I just get my act together to do something?

And when will I stop feeling so pathetically uninterested in my day-to-day life? The real world? Politics? (Gasp, yes, I have no interest. Haven't read anything in a month.)

Oh well, maybe the rain will wash some of this ambivolence away. Or maybe it will just swallow me up and make me feel like I am in over my head. With housework anyway.

Planning for a weekend away. I am getting out of here this weekend....and I am grateful for that. Not that I don't like where I am right now, but after being here all week, alone, I will be ready for some companionship.

So I am off to Ohio. A colleague of mine lives and works there...she had a baby in the recent months...and she so desperately wanted to come visit me while I was in the hospital all of those days. I told her to wait, that I would much prefer to come to her. And we had initially talked about the summer, but this weekend was open for both of us. So here I go.

And I bought a plane ticket to go there. Which is hysterical for me....Jenica will understand this...I love to drive. Driving to Cincinnati is only like 10 hours. I can do ten hours without hesitation. But I bought the ticket. I figured with how tired I am these days, the last thing I need to be doing is driving through the borig mid-west. Talk about inducing sleepiness. Can anyone say Indiana?

I think it will be low key. I think her husband is doing something this weekend, so I think it will be me, her, and her little baby. But she and I can talk for hours. And hours.

So, yes, I am looking forward to the weekend. In Ohio of all places.

Another fabulous email from Greg, the executive director of the Foundation I work for....
He can also be a prick. Kinda like I can be a totally fucking bitch when necessary. But I thought this letter was just charming. Remind me never, ever, ever to quit my job. I need more people like this in my life right now.

Kristen,

It is early in San Diego. My body thinks it is eight o'clock so I am up. I have been thinking of you and thought I would share some thoughts.

When you are in the kind of pain you are in, there is no out. Only time will allow you to make room for other emotions and feelings.

William Faukner once said, The most important human quality is the capacity to endure.

Enduring means that you live with the pain, you let it wash over you, you let it become part of you. But to endure also means that you go through all the motions that make life, life. You spend time with your children, you listen to music, you work, you go for walks, you pray even when you feel there is nothing there, you take care of yourself, you spend time with friends. Sometimes, many times it will feel like you are just going through the motions, but you must do it anyway. That is what it means to endure.

About 10 years ago, Joe Elwanger's church burned down. The beams holding up the roof were made of iron. Building inspectors examined the beams and determined the fire, that had destroyed much of the church, actually tempered the iron and made the beams even stronger. Joe, in his profound manner, said that the fire made not only the beams stronger, but the congregation stronger. And it did. But Joe also got a lot of help from friends. The Catholic Bishop gave the church ten thousand dollars and let his congregation use one of the Catholic buildings during the reconstruction process.

This pain you are in, although I know this is no consolation now, will make you stronger. It will burn out a lot of pettiness, a lot of insignificant bullship, a lot of insecurity. You will emerge a much more formidable person. But you must endure. And you must reach out to others.

Greg

Endure I will. I promise. And living through this, I already can see how it has burned out some insignificant bullshit and insecurity.

I like the idea of become more formidable. It makes me beleive that I will have the strenght to climb the mountain, all the way to the top. See my name on a presedential ballot in 2032. Be a force to reckon with.

Today though I will just sit around in sweats and tackel the small things. It is more than enough today.

Eeew. Grace just came over and said, "mom, I think there is a dead squirrel at the steps." And I said, "Cool....Batman finally learned how to kill something."

(The cat has never been a hunter, ever....we still have mice in the basement...)

And I continued, "But that would really be something if he killed a squirrel..."

And then I saw the little creature. It was a baby bunny.

Somehow all the pride I had in my cat has totally diminished. He killed a poor, baby bunny.

Not a good way to start the day I am afraid.

Have I ever mentioned that I am pathetic when it comes to navigating technology. I woke up early this morning (even by my standards) at about 5am. The sunrise was breathtaking, so much so that I climbed out of bed, down the stairs, into the kitchen and found the digital camera.

And then all the way back up and out onto the deck.

I snapped two pictures. The first one was the practice shot....the second appeared perfect. I did not need another.

And now, I am stuck. I know that you need to upload the picture into the computer. I know that I need a USB connection to do that. But I cannot find the cord....and have no idea where it might be.

So, I may venture to the camera store to see what they can do for me. I so wanted to email out to everyone this morning. Or start a photo blog journal....but wait, this is me, just uploading the damn thing would be a major accomplishment.

We'll see if I get it figured out by the end of the day. Or not?

Grace. My eight year-old. She is quite the kid.

Today she came home with a note saying that she had 9, count them, 9 overdue library books and that she is temporarily banned from checking more out. Heehee. She is upstairs combing through her shit. Frantic. It is pretty funny.

And, in checking her homework the following statement brough tears to my eyes:

Question (on worksheet): How would you feel if you were Sarah watching your father leave? Why?
Answer (by said kid): I would feel sad. It is sad to watch someone leave for a long time. But it is more sad when your dad dies.

See why she gets to me? And she responsed like such a mature kid.

But maturity of her response countered with her inability to find her library books; that about sums it up.

So today has been an interesting day of mostly nothingness. That is not true...I have had ongoing email dialogues today with close friends that keep me engaged in this thing called life. I feel awake today, in a very different way then I have had in some time.

I am plugging away at some things. Avoiding others like the plague. (Sorry about the pun, but the plague has been on my mind since Betsy was here and reading that awful book....well, I am sure the book wasn't awful, but the story sure was). I have started writing the numerous, hundreds really, of thank you cards. I want to communicate to the world, but I want to avoid it as well. I feel like I am a split personality these days. One person is still dealing with the enormity of death. The other is dealing with the enormity of what living means. And my responsibility and right to actually live and engage in the moment. Huh? Does that make any sense at all????

Here is what I sent out to all of my colleagues today. I called it work. Sort of work anyway. It is written for an audience of organizers, so consider the recipients. But it is mostly very accurate and true to how I feel these days.

Current State of Mind


I have been meaning to put something down in words that would describe what the past month has been like for me, and what being part of the network has meant to me during this challenging time. I could hardly get out the words, that is until now.

I need to start by saying thank you. Thank you is hardly adequate, it is more like, I am profoundly grateful to be part of the hundreds of relationships that connect through our work and our passions as human beings.

It has been humbling to be the recipient of so many prayers, phone calls, cards, letters, visits that you have all offered. I definitely felt all of the love and support that you afforded me, and I continue to feel it on a daily basis. Again, thank you is hardly enough.

I am also grateful that I am an organizer right now. Being able to think and behave as an organizer in a time where there I was severely powerless meant so much. It meant that I could do a power analysis of the hospital, build relationships and do one on ones with the nursing staff, organize the memorial service (you know: set-up, roles, start on time, end on time, etc). I also had the courage to get up and speak at the service because there was a team of organizers present. I treated it like a training moment, and thinking that I had evaluators in the room brought be tremendous courage and clarity to speak with authority.

I am not sure how I feel about faith right now. I feel like God has abandoned me; but that the network has jumped right up to walk with me. I am sure this will lead to more intense prayer and questioning of my own faith journey, but it is something that I cannot do all the time. Similar to grief; there is only so much a person can take before it swallows you and makes you feel like a victim. Something that I don’t want to spend too much energy doing.

Grace and Margaret are struggling. But they are still children and do child-like things, which is good for me. It is good for me to hang onto the normalcy of what life is all about.

I am beginning to venture back into work ever so slowly. My attention span is short and I find my mind wanders without notice. And then I can find myself crying without being provoked. But I figure that is all part of the process that I must go through. I did go to a staff meeting last Friday and it exhausted me. But I want to work, and continue to feed myself with the world around me and my desire to impact it. I must. It is who I am.

I anticipate that I will be at the training of trainers event in the next weeks. I want to be there with all of you. I have certainly worked quite a bit on the path to power piece. That is the training that resonates with me most these days. I know that I will not be defeated by this tragedy, but I still wonder how my actions will play out in the coming months. I invite agitation at this point. I invite agitation when I become complacent. I invite agitation when I feel powerless.

You all have touched me in a very deep way. Please know how significant that is right now, in this moment, and how significant that will be in the months ahead of me.

I know that I am not alone. That in itself is worth the price of admission.

With much love and gratitude to all,

Kristen

I am sure that I will blog more later. Right now my stomach is growling. Can't decide if that is becasue I have only eaten a grilled cheese sandwich today, or because it is angry at the mass amounts of coffee that I have consumed. Bleck.

More later....this thing called life keeps forging ahead. Even when, at some moments, it is against our will.

Loyalty.

It is such an important practice to me.

And right this minute I am fuming with my family. Last night was the opening of Andy's restaurant. And my family went. Not all of them, but most of them. They brought me a menu so that I can see what good things he is doing.

And when I fumed about it they did not understand. They cannot see how by their support of him, especially at this moment in time, is a personal affront to me.

It runs a similar thought pattern to how they treated our marriage and relationship. They weren't supportive. They barely acknowledged that I was married, or most importantly that I was fucking happy. Like that wasn't enough for all of them. Then, in Henry's death they show up and want to be supportive and helpful. And while that is nice; it feels disingenuine. Why couldn't they show up four months ago?

So, is it me? Or is their behavior obnoxious and disgusting. I feel betrayed by the lot of them.

Loyalty is something precious. And something that should also be a "given" when dealing with those you love.

Maybe this is my problem. But so what, would it be so hard to respect me right this moment? Would it be so hard as to say, "Now isn't a good time to go see the restaurant, maybe we could come another time?" Would that be so hard.

Aparently for people who don't appreciate who I am and what I am about....it must be very difficult. Impossible. And it will be difficult, if not impossible for me to forgive them completly for their gross missteps. That is something that you cannot erase.

And I hate being so angry all the time. But, dammit, I feel like I have a right to be.

So, it won't go away today.

Last night I ventured shopping. Mostly becasue Grace needed some clothes, as it appears that NOTHING fits her anymore. Which of course is a gross exaggeration...but a fair statement would be..."nothing in our house that is clean fits her." So, in addition to starting to do some laundry, I wanted to buy her a few things.

My mother gave me $100 just for shopping. So that I had no excuse but to indulge myself a little bit. So I headed to TJMaxx and Marsalls.

Here is what I bought:
-3 pairs of yoga stretch pants, one grey, two black
-1 yellow three button t-shirt (note, I do not own anything yellow)
-1 bra (since I am down to two in my collection)
-1 black tank top that can be worn with suits for work
-1 Nike t-shirt to go with yoga stretch pants
-3 pairs of pants for Grace
-1 dress for Grace

Not bad...and the grand total $97.20. Cool. I had to laugh at my purchases a bit. The sweat pants really are reflective of who I am at the moment. I did try on a beautiful black suit, complete with short, sexy skirt. It made me feel great, but I decided that I wasn't in the mood to buy a suit. Besides, there is this great store in Gree Bay that I must, must, must go to because they have hip, stylish clothes. And they make me look my age. I get criticized by some of my fellow organizers that I look to old when I do the work-dress thing. I prefer to think that I look sophisticated. But, I digress.

And I need to get a move on. I have things to do. Not that I know what they are...or where to begin. But getting dressed is a good thing. And since I took a shower yesterday, I can happily avoid that.

Besides....Sundays are wonderful for lounging.

I will lounge. With more coffee. And maybe a cigarette, sitting in the sun...watching little girls chase a blue ball, and ride scooters. Not too bad.

I changed the name of the blog this morning. This is what I intended the blog's name to be originally, but then I had conflicting thoughts. So, today my blog is YOUR LIFE IS NOW.

I have been thinking a lot about what that means. And what the implications of that statement are. And personally I have some resolution about it, but then I think, "I can put off dealing with my life until tomorrow."

I am afterall a supreme procrastinator.

There is a duel going on in my head...part one says, "Start back into life. Get back into politics. Start doing the things you love. And do not feel guilty about it."
Part two says, "There is an appropriate reaction to death. That reaction is to be still and stop and reflect. It is grief. It is crying. It is sadness."

So, I know that each day I engage both of those parts of me. When I do the things I love, talk to friends, think about how I am going to impact the National Election, I am alive and happy, and damn....I might even smile or laugh. And then I feel slightly disloyal. But then I feel as if, I have to go on. That if Henry was sitting drinking coffee with me this morning, he would say...."Go on baby, live."

The pain isn't as intense as it was. Getting out of bed isn't as intimidating as it was. And this morning I do not feel wiped out and exhausted from tumultuous dreams. I actually feel pretty damn good. And I am planning on having a good day today. My life is now. And that, my friends, is something that I do not have a choice about.

I am beginning to engage more with the world. I have begun to start imagining a future again. Granted, the future isn't clear. There are still so many uncertainties, but I have dared to think about it. That is comforting.

So, lyrics from Your Life Is Now, John Mellencamp.....

Your Life Is Now
Written by: John Mellencamp and George M. Green

See the moon roll across the stars
See the seasons turn like a heart
Your father's days are lost to you
This is your time here to do what you will do

Your life is now your life is now your life is now
In this undiscovered moment
Lift your head up above the crowd
We could shake this world
If you would only show us how
Your life is now

Would you teach your children to tell the truth
Would you take the high road if you could choose
Do you believe you're a victim of a great compromise
'Cause I believe you could change your mind and change our lives

Your life is now your life is now your life is now
In this undiscovered moment
Lift your head up above the crowd
We could shake this world
If you would only show us how
Your life is now

Would you teach your children to tell the truth
This is your time here to do what you will do

Your life is now your life is now your life is now
In this undiscovered moment
Lift your head up above the crowd
We could shake this world
If you would only show us how
Your life is now


And at the end of the day, I still believe that I will shake this world.

Saturday.

At the moment I am quite pleased with the progress that I have made around the house.
I did the dishes.
I swept the floors.
I threw out all of the dead funeral flowers, and saved the ones that still are hanging on for a few days.
I took a shower.
I took down the make-shift bar from the post-funeral gathering.
I talked on the phone a bit.
I got the girls to help me with the laundry.
I managed to eat wheat thins and spinach dip for lunch.

And, the sun is out. 60 degrees with a lovely, cool lake breeze. A perfect day for jeans and a t-shirt.

Now I am pondering what to do next. Should I get out of the house? Take the girls to my parents' house and hang with my sisters tonight? Shop a bit for some practical things, like new clothes for the growing 8 year old? Hmmm. Need to think about this some more.

At the moment the girls are playing outside in the sun. The are getting along fabulously and have only had one minor fight to speak of today. Good for them. Good for my mental state.

I think that I shall take a short nap now. Rest a bit after all this activity. I swear, I feel like I have done nothing monumental but in doing it my energy has been zapped.

Time to recharge the battery and see what Saturday brings.

It makes me think of the old Cat Stevens song, "Saturday night and I ain't got nobody, I got some money cause I just got paid, and how I wish I had someone to talk to, I am in awful way."

Ah, the depressing music of the 70's. And what I clung to hard as a confused teen who hated the world. I guess not all has changed, except that I am ten years older now. Still confused. Still not so trusting of this great big world. But I still can sing every song on Cat's Greatest Hits Album. Now that is something to be proud of.

I got in the plane today. Meaning that I adventured back into this thing called work. And I didn't necessarily engage, but I didn't crash and burn either.

It was like I had been transported in time. A month of work had been done and I had no understanding of it at all. It was if nothing and everything had changed all at once. I felt a bit left out, or left back. But it wasn't as threatening as I thought it would be. It was ok.

The meeting was my staff: David (boss), Pat, Joe (the famous Birmingham pastor), and the new girl, Jennifer and of course me. I can own this group on my worst day....but today I felt neither the desire to be in the driver's seat, nor the capacity. I spaced out a lot...there is a window that looks out into the sky. I watched lots of clouds. I got severe hives at one point, understanding that to be a nervous reaction to stress. I think the stress was that everyone was watching me. How will she react? Will she cry? (yes, yes, yes) Will she want to work? (yes, no, yes, no).

I did survive. It was five hours. It was all I could do to stay awake at one point. I think my mind and body just said *enough* and I dozed off for about 10-15 minutes. And I NEVER do that. I am always 150% present in my work. Somehow I didn't care. I managaed to cut myself enough slack to just be there, and not fret my behavior, nor how I interacted.

And they told me to take the next week off...or do some small things. Fine, that I can manage to do.

But if affirmed a part of who I am that I love. I love being the organizer, I love the politics of interpersonal relationships, and the politics of politics. I will do more. I will not quit to be a waitress. I will start to engage, if ever sooooo slowly.

Survival is a very primal response. And I am doing it. Sometimes I wonder how or why, but then I surprise myself with some inner-resolve that comes from somewhere deep. I will take life back by storm...and it won't be one of those storms that blows in quickly and pounds with intense rain, rather it will be like a wind-storm coming across an open plain. You see it first way, way off...and slowly it closes in on you and then, and only then do you realize how intese it is.

I can be that. I can be like the windstorm. Today I made my way back into the horizon. I will gather dirt and speed as I go...so that when I truly arrive there is my force to recon with once again.

That I am certain about. The rest is like a cloud of dust. There is mass and yet nothiness all at once.

Now I will find the sweatpants. It is time to take the organizer off and put back on the grieving widow. Night is here. And that is when the sadness takes a firm hold.

April 15th: Tax Day.

Have I done my taxes? Hell no. I need to call right this minute and file for an extension. The tax problem was confusing enough for us three weeks ago, now it seems unbearable.

For the following reasons:
Henry and I both worked part of the year in Illinois and part of the year in Wisconsin.
We got married, now we need to file joint returns.
Henry collected about 5 months in unemployment after Baumueller let him go.
We can only claim one kid because that is how my divorce was negotiated.
Confusing? Yes, now add the fact that Henry died. Makes for a mountain of required documents, not to mention that I do not want to examine our life from the perspective of our revenue and taxable income. I don not care about what the bottom line said we were worth; our value together was so much more than our W-2's indicated.

So, I am not going to deal with the taxes. Not today. Mabye in a week. Maybe not.

I have taken a new morning routine. I drop the girls off; Grace at the grade school, Margaret at the Catholic school, and then I drive a block down the hill and park at the beach. I have my (Henry's) blue camping mug full of coffee and my cd's plugged in and a cigarette lit. I sit there and allow my mind to wander and the tears to fall. I listen to several songs, smoke two cigarettes, and then drive home. It is a fraction of the day set aside simply for grief. And somehow it makes it easier to get in the car and go home. Knowing that I will return tomorrow morning with a refil of coffee and new songs and memories to sift through.

I found another woman's blog this morning...she calls it "Woman under construction." She is going through a divorce...and it trying to reinvent her life. Certain passages struck me and ressonated with me. It is good to read about other people and their quest for themselves. Again, it proves to my self-centered person that, no, you are not alone and yes, other people are in the process of doing what you are doing.

But I wonder if anyone was ever as in love as us? And I when others start climbing the mountain back into the real world. I am still not ready for boots and backpacks. But tomorrow I will go to a staff meeting. And that is significant. That is a small step back towards the giant mountain. Maybe this means that I know being a bottom dweller wouldn't suit me anyway. Maybe I still feel like I deserve to be at the top. How else is a girl going to become the president is 28 years? Bottom dwellers don't win, do they?

I am leaving the house now. To find a lost friend, Shannon. I am giddy with anticipation and happy that she still knows the real me. I haven't seen her in two years, but this will be a new beginning. God, do I need friends right now. I'll swallow my pride about being an asshole and not calling her for those years. I'll do whatever it takes not to feel hollow.

Gasoline. Country Music. Malboro Ultra Lights. Caffinee. An Open Road.

Here I go.....

So this is my horoscope for the day:

Virgo(August 23 - September 22)
These next few days can bring up issues of self-esteem that reach all the way back to your childhood. Perhaps something happens today, reminding of you of something from your past that caused you emotional distress. It's important to remind yourself that what happened then is not the same as what's happening now. Revisit your old hurts, but don't let them prevent you from being fully in the present.

You think? Isn't it so true that death of one person ignites all kinds of emotions about previous loss? Somehow the memories of all the death that I have been a part of have compounded the loss of Henry. Like, shit, why do I have to do this again?

But I guess that is the way it goes...the longer we wander around on the planet, the more we see. The more we are reminded of our own mortality. And I hate being reminded how fragile I am.

Somewhow, I still think this wasn't supposed to happen to him, to me, to all of us. But it did. And we go on.

Today the sunrise is beautiful. Orange, yellow, pink. I actually got out of bed before the alarm clock went off. Good for me.

And I took a shower. That is an accomplishment.

I thought I had something more to say this morning. I guess not. I am in a rather decent mood. Which I am sure could dissappear at any given moment.

But for the moment, I'll take it.

I do have other thoughts this morning....but they seem foggy and distant. So as I sit here, I cannot articulate any.

I swear, I can be such a space case.

Thank you Jenica.

"God, he loved flying with you Maverick. But he would've done it anyway... without you. He'd have hated it, but he would've done it."

I love the movie Top Gun. I think I first saw it when I was 12. And it was a big deal becasue there was that scene with the French Kissing. But the movie made such a lasting impression on me. In multiple ways.

And, I compared me going back to work to Maverick trying to fly without his partner, Goose.

And Jenica found this quote for me.

That makes me smile. And the phrase rings true.

I'll try and hold onto that for as long as a girl can. And when I have to put it down for a moment, I just will remember where I left it so that I can pick it back up again.

See, I am definately not as alone as I think I am. And that is great.

I am not really always as gloomy as the previous posts indicate.

Really, I just seem to decide that blogging is good when my mental state is all out of whack. And that happens frequently as I navigate each day. When I hit the rough waters, I grab the laptop, the cigarettes, and the caffine. Good habits.

In talking with someone that has been a really good friend to me, she said, "You really are the same person. That is amazing."

And I do feel fundamentally the same. Only without a horizon.

I have the past and the present. Those things I know well. I know what I did yesterday (really only sort of) and I know what I am doing today. But I do not know what the future will bring.

That is what I am mourning. I had a vision of a future with H. It was great, more of the past and present, stacked up against each other. More great adventures. More great moments. More great nothingness. And that is soooo gone. So, I feel really out of whack about thinking about what the next weeks might look like. Not to mention the next ten years. Or more.
I had the mental picture of the two of us right up until I was 60. Which would have made him 86, and really I couldn't imagine him 86, so I figured that was about right. Now, I would give anything just to have had 5 more years together. Or an hour. I long to discuss some things with him.

And I do. But I want more answers.

(Watch out....total nonsequetor about to occur...)

I am convinced that there are birds living in the schoolhouse. I hear them in the attic. I have found their droppings on the staircase. But I cannot find them. I think it is quite comforting that there are more than three of us living here. Well, there is always Ruby and Batman---and now the bird family. I think I will go up there and sit very still and see if I can spy on them. Oh, how I love to be a voyeur. But birds. Huh. That seems rather uniteresting, now doesn't it.

And, I have officially decided that I hate my ex-husband. He told me the other day that HE thinks that I should move back to Milwaukee. As if he gets a vote in my life. Arg. What arrogance. Then, just five minutes ago, he asked me if I could have the girls this weekend so that he could do his thing. Well, sure, I guess...I only had some more grieving and alone time planned. I guess that can be interrupted.

Ah ha! The sarcasm is back. Oh, good for me. I would hate to think that I had simply replaced cynicism for sarcasm. That makes me feel a bit like my regular self.

For a minute. Captured on my blog.

So, I just reread stuff from my old blog, my old, happy life...and found this post:

I am so ready to start the next chapter. It begins something like this,
"Once upon a time, a self-declared rebel gets a chance to live the life she has been dreaming up for years. She is finally free of the things that have chained her to a different person, perhaps a less confidant person, an insecure girl who spent the last eight years worring first about what the world thought of her and second, what she thought of herself. And while that world approved of her status-quo life: the degreed husband and two beautiful girls, the woman herslef saw something different. She saw her shadow, something that was the shape of her body, but gave no window to her soul. Today she looks in the mirror seeing the person she knows she was meant to be. She likes her reflection. She knows the rest of the world doesn't see it, but knows that in time they will come to accept it. And, should they choose to not look at the woman closely, to see her eyes sparkle again and her smile genuine for the first time, it will be their loss. The woman is a grown up. She is living HER life. The shadow has a face and a big, beautiful smile."

Where is she now? I feel like I have been to the top of the mountain, and tasted the good wine and fruit, and then got shoved all the way back to the bottom...and I am not sure if I have the courage nor the ambition to find the hiking boots and backpack and start climbing again. I just don't feel like I want or could do it again. I will remain a bottom-dweller for another day.

My friend Shannon said that I had the "perfect life" dangled out in front of me and then ripped away and stolen.

That about sums it all up.

Good Life = Gone.

So here I am. Alone for real.

Betsy left this morning. It was bittersweet...I mean how long can one person procrastinate the inevitable.

Alone was coming. Alone has arrived.

And I am silmotaneously falling apart over and over again, and holding somethings together. It is a strangely odd concotion.

Like right this minute I imagine that all my emotions and all my memories are heaped into one giant compost pile. Starting to rot. Starting to blur from identifyiable shapes into one giant glob. And that terrifies me to no end.

Weird things keep happening. Maybe because I am looking for them? But they occur. Like, last night sleeping with Margaret, when, she starts talking TO ME...using my name, saying, "Kristen, I love you." Then she rolled toward me and took both her hands put them on my face and then stroked my hair. Like the man I used to sleep with always did. It was oddly comforting and freaked the shit out of me all at once. I felt that He was there and yet, was it because He was or was it becasue I wanted him to be there?

My friend Sara sent me a picture of H and I at her wedding and it made the hair on my body stand at attention. The photo was of H and I dancing (we only danced one song that night---March 20---he went into the hospital on March 24th) and H looks like he is in mid sentance, I look like a baby doll, with my eyelids closed, my head tilted to one side, and the most peaceful expression. Then there is a giant yellow light blur right in between our heads. It is the oddest photo...and had I seen it three weeks ago I would have just said, "God, that is ugly." But today it is different.

Today it has been exactly three weeks since this whole nighmare started. And I would like to wake up dammit. I know that I am awake. And then I feel the sharp pain in my chest.

Maybe I need an EKG....would it reveal a dissected heart? Broken. Completly.

I need to get in a fight today....with someone. The anger is still too much. I need to pour it out into a wineglass, stir it gently, examine it into the light, swirl it around in my mouth and then spit it out. And sip it carefully as I am ready. I cannot become intoxicated in anger. But, like a teen ager, there is nothing that I want more than to get smashed. And deal with the hangover tomorrow.

Now the music that is blaring: I'M TIRED, by Pat Green

"We must be headed in the wrong direction
Cause there is nothin but pain out there
I heard you say something about the cross upon your back
Truth is, baby, life ain't always fair
Your whole life is water running down a sidewalk
You followed the rocks and the cracks as you crawl 'cross the ground
I ain't seen you smile in so long
You must of built a house in the misery that you have found

I'm Tired, I'm tired now
Tired of playing the same old game
You got to get yourseld together
Say to yourself, I ain't going down this way
I ain't going down this way

Sifting through your memories deep in the ground with the dead
Maybe you were high on the top of the cloud with the dragon that lives in your head
Maybe you were dragging your wagon with your thoughts like old wooden toys
Maybe your were looking for something that you lost when you were a boy

You eat when you're hungry
You sleep when you're sleepy
You drink like there is whole in your soul
All your problems are begging to leave
But you never want to let them go
You never want to let them go

It's a fine line between living it up and losing it all
It's a fine line between getting up and moving on"

Tuesday morning....I actually might get the kids to school on time. And without help. Good for me.

Yesterday was "Betsy Day" meaning that Bets was in charge all day because I slept in until 10 am...and was too fried to make any decisions. Betsy day was fun for the kids. And a great distraction for me.

I went to the bank and as I was signing the checks the bank teller actually said, "Wow, that must be a lot of fun." To which I said, "My husband just died. This is not fun. This is funeral money."

I could have just smiled and said, "yes, it is."

I am the calous bitch that I hoped I wouldn't turn into.

Like the email this morning, from Suzanne. I almost went ballistic. That fucking bitch got to spend 5 years with him. And I only got 18 months. There is no justice. I am furious. And now I am sitting here crying my eyes out. And then I think, well, fuck what is the point being pissed about S? He is dead. He is really gone. And then I start crying all over again.

My ex-sister in law (she too married an O'Neill boy), who was coincedentally a very close friend of mine called last night. So I talked to her for three hours and that was of great comfort. She invited me over to her house on Thursday with all my picture albums to talk. We hadn't spoken since early 2002 and that always bothered me in so many ways. But we have reconnected. And that is good.

Grace is getting her things together for school. Margaret is pretending that she is sleeping so that she doesn't have to get out of bed. And I am typing away before the 7:30 moment hits and I have to be off and running with Grace to school.

Molly said that her attention span is small right now...well, I feel the same. I feel like I am neither able to focus on other things for very long periods of time, nor do I want to. That somehow if I am not thinking about Henry that I am not being loyal...but I cannot do this all the time. It is too much.

And right this minute I am suffocating. Just all the thoughts that whirl around in my brain. And now I have to add Suzanne. Fuck.

But into the truck I go...to run away, or at least go park the truck at the beach for a bit. And smoke and drink coffee. And look into the sunrise. That is gorgeous today.

I think that it is the only reason that I can get up this morning.

Now I am making herbal tea. And hoping, desperately that it will warm me up. The sound of the kettle heating up and the bubbling water.

Somehow that is comforting.

I need to keep searching for the small things.

Like, will this post actually work? The last one never registered, and it is making me fucking insane.

I need another thing in my life to make me insane, really. I do.

I am sitting here drinking bottled water and trying to make sense of something, anything....like, for example, why is the dog pacing through the house? She doesn't want to go outside. I tried that. I gave her a snack. Fine.

Does she know too? Is she pacing trying to find him, the way my mind is pacing, trying to conjure up any and all memories I have of him?

I feel physically sick. And I feel like I haven't written in my blog for days, and when I do sit down with lengthy amounts of time, it will all spill out of me. Part of me knows that I need that, the other wants to keep everthing guarded as if writing it down makes it real. I still would rather live part of my day in denial about the whole ordeal. But that won't do. At least it shouldn't do for the moment. I should try and accept that H is dead. That I am alone. That he will never plant another garder or spend an evening curled up with a book and a daughter.

And then I start mourning all over again. It doesn't stop. It doesn't go away. Even in sleep---he is there, the thoughts invade. I am terribly fucked up, I am afraid.

Yet there is a part of me who knows that I am not as fucked up as I feel; that I am brave and strong and have really intense survival skills. If not for me, then for those little girls.

And I don't feel like being brave or strong.

I don't feel like being anyone's hero.

So I have to make a new blog because my other blog got invaded. Sad story; my only outlet for all the stuff flying around in my head and I felt like I had been raped. That "other" people had taken advantage of my vulnerbility, my sacredness, my stuff, my vigin thoughts. And now I am calous and more cynical than ever.

This can't be a good thing.

Take the name of the blog, for example. "Angry Widow at 28." That doesn't have the ring of a healthy, well-put together person, now does it? Nope.

I am broken and I have to deal with it. And I have started looking for the superglue, but feel like I should be in no hurry to find it. Other people want me to find it; to get myself all glued back together so I look whole. But I can't do it yet.