In looking back, I just noticed that I never posted again about Ian's mother.
She died. Jyl died too, by suicide, and my darling friend Aby died as well, by accidental overdose, in a relapse.
It was a hard year.
I know I've tried to write about my almost-mother-in-law's death several times, but I guess it must have just been too hard. I don't remember what I wrote or why I didn't post it. I have probably attempted to address Jyl's and Aby's as well, but I guess those words never made it through.
By some miracle--by a whole bunch of miracles really, and with a lot of help--we did manage to get married. In large part the wedding was beautiful, but looking back I have a lot of negative feelings surrounding the planning and the day that I don't want to try to dissect right now.
I have an office job, which I both like and hate. Mostly I enjoy my coworkers, and obviously the stability of a regular paycheck. But I feel trapped. I never see the sun. The sameness of my environment and my work, day after day after day, is rotting me away inside. I am starting to feel old, and empty, and (at the very high risk of being nauseously over-melo-dramatic) lately this has been leading me to ponder my own mortality in a very dark way. I am sure the awareness of one's own mortality is normal, and maybe early thirties is when it usually hits--but I am really not liking it. I was hoping to get away from the total surety that the rest of my life was going to be nothing but a long unsteady irrefutable slide down into a dark tunnel. Lately, mostly, each day has felt either the same as or worse than the last and the horizon looks dark and dangerous. I feel like I've made all the wrong decisions and now I just have to learn to live with them until I die. But maybe it will get better, right? People say it sometimes gets better.
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 29, 2019
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Again. Still. More.
It's not so much that I want to kill myself these days, it's more that, roughly eighty five to ninety percent of the time, I find myself wishing I'd never been born.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
A sobering moment
Tonight I was nearly home when I saw a cat in the middle of the road that had been hit by a car. It had no mark on it that I could see, but was lying motionless across the double yellow lines. I passed it, but about a quarter mile down the road I turned around, pulled off at the church, and carried the cat to the shoulder. I had hoped to check its tag and call its owners, but though it was clearly a pet, it had no collar and no tag. It was still warm. And though I didn't see anything on the exposed side, it must have shit itself on impact. I haven't yet been able to get the smell off my hand.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Not unexpected
We just got the news that my great uncle Carter, who has been dying for some time, passed away during the night. (He is one of the two, Sara, for whom I missed the snowed-out party last Christmastime.) I don't know yet how his family is handling this, though I am sure that they aren't having an easy time. I am most concerned for his wife, Kay, who has also been battling cancer for some time and has had such a tenuous hold that, unbeknownst to us, her family wasn't sure she'd even make it to the Christmas party last season, much less the new year. Evidently she sat down with TC and Mary, her son and daughter, and laid out every single detail--right down to the specific foods and locations of hidden Christmas presents--because she was so completely determined that the party would happen whether she was there for it or not.
I am also really feeling for my father. He has, as he just told me over the phone, wanted to see Carter for months--but Carter didn't want any visitors. He's always been an extremely quiet man (I think I told a story here once about a four-sentence conversation between him and his brother, my grandfather, which lasted two days), and private, and I think he didn't want anyone to see him in such a poor condition. My father (as he admits, uncharacteristically) honored his wishes and I think is trying very hard not to regret that decision. He cared very much for Carter.
So: not unexpected, but as always, very sad. Please keep the family in your thoughts and prayers.
I am also really feeling for my father. He has, as he just told me over the phone, wanted to see Carter for months--but Carter didn't want any visitors. He's always been an extremely quiet man (I think I told a story here once about a four-sentence conversation between him and his brother, my grandfather, which lasted two days), and private, and I think he didn't want anyone to see him in such a poor condition. My father (as he admits, uncharacteristically) honored his wishes and I think is trying very hard not to regret that decision. He cared very much for Carter.
So: not unexpected, but as always, very sad. Please keep the family in your thoughts and prayers.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
A few notes:
Two days ago I saw the first few leaves flutter down. I guess it's time. I just hadn't realized.
Today I really cried over Little Bit for the first time. I was walking Miley after getting back home and doing fine until we approached the former home of one of Little Bit's friends, Lucas, who passed on a few years ago. Then I just started sobbing as I walked down the street, all the way home. I came in the basement door and curled up on the couch and cried some more. He was such a sweet, loyal dog. He had such a sweet face, such an attitude of trust and love and patience. I cried for the loss of his spirit from our home. I cried for the loss of his constant, quiet, steady companionship over the last fourteen years. For the way he walked with me alone at night in seventh grade, when I was so depressed I wouldn't let anyone else near. For the way he always walked steadily and patiently beside me. For the way he always ran to greet me when I came home, bounding toward me and then toward the door, wagging his tail. And later the way he looked wearily up and wandered over, and brightened when he saw who I was, and then still plodded up the same path toward the door, just alongside. For the way he used to run ahead up the street when we reached our block, and look back to make sure I was following, and the way he felt better and ran easier when the air was cool. The way he even followed in the snow after ice built up between his toes, followed until he limped and we saw and turned back. And then I started to cry for all the times he wanted to walk just a few more blocks, and I said no. Or the times he wanted to cross the creek and walk in the woods, and we didn't go because I didn't have shoes on that I could get wet. We hadn't walked across the creek together in years. I am so sorry. I am so sorry.
And then I came home, and just cried. I miss him so much.
Tomorrow I'm going to a meeting in support of Kelly's mentee, who is in a very bad foster care situation. Prayers for her and for her sister (who was removed from the home earlier) and for her brothers (from whom she and her sister were separated some years ago) would be greatly appreciated.
Friday I have an interview at a school nearby, for an MS English and History position. Prayers would again be appreciated.
Saturday we leave for Arkansas, and break the drive in Knoxville at Beth and Zach's house. I'm really looking forward to seeing them.
Today I really cried over Little Bit for the first time. I was walking Miley after getting back home and doing fine until we approached the former home of one of Little Bit's friends, Lucas, who passed on a few years ago. Then I just started sobbing as I walked down the street, all the way home. I came in the basement door and curled up on the couch and cried some more. He was such a sweet, loyal dog. He had such a sweet face, such an attitude of trust and love and patience. I cried for the loss of his spirit from our home. I cried for the loss of his constant, quiet, steady companionship over the last fourteen years. For the way he walked with me alone at night in seventh grade, when I was so depressed I wouldn't let anyone else near. For the way he always walked steadily and patiently beside me. For the way he always ran to greet me when I came home, bounding toward me and then toward the door, wagging his tail. And later the way he looked wearily up and wandered over, and brightened when he saw who I was, and then still plodded up the same path toward the door, just alongside. For the way he used to run ahead up the street when we reached our block, and look back to make sure I was following, and the way he felt better and ran easier when the air was cool. The way he even followed in the snow after ice built up between his toes, followed until he limped and we saw and turned back. And then I started to cry for all the times he wanted to walk just a few more blocks, and I said no. Or the times he wanted to cross the creek and walk in the woods, and we didn't go because I didn't have shoes on that I could get wet. We hadn't walked across the creek together in years. I am so sorry. I am so sorry.
And then I came home, and just cried. I miss him so much.
Tomorrow I'm going to a meeting in support of Kelly's mentee, who is in a very bad foster care situation. Prayers for her and for her sister (who was removed from the home earlier) and for her brothers (from whom she and her sister were separated some years ago) would be greatly appreciated.
Friday I have an interview at a school nearby, for an MS English and History position. Prayers would again be appreciated.
Saturday we leave for Arkansas, and break the drive in Knoxville at Beth and Zach's house. I'm really looking forward to seeing them.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Interim
I left the beach around 9 last night, estimating that I'd be home around 12.30, and I pulled up in front of the house at 12:28. Booyah. My ability to read the "estimated driving time" on a google maps printout is, as the PBS special Mr Bennett would say, "positively occult."
I said hello to my parents whom I was happy to see and who were happy to see me, I turned off the living room lights, I fell into bed, I fell into a somewhat-fitful-but-still-better-than-nothing night's sleep.
Little Bit, who has been our dog since I was ten and whose name I am still defensive about, seems to be weakening by the day. He is now at a point where he usually (often?) cannot stand or walk without assistance. You'd think the next course of action would be clear, wouldn't you? But I just can't even think about it, much less look in his eyes and say or even know that this is the end. He is such a good, sweet dog. We love him so much. This has all happened so fast. We are so soft-hearted. I am going to cry. I wish we could go for just one last walk down to the creek, and then run back up our block together with him bounding ahead and looking back to make sure I'm still behind him, grinning mouth open, tongue hanging out.
But we can't.
I said hello to my parents whom I was happy to see and who were happy to see me, I turned off the living room lights, I fell into bed, I fell into a somewhat-fitful-but-still-better-than-nothing night's sleep.
Little Bit, who has been our dog since I was ten and whose name I am still defensive about, seems to be weakening by the day. He is now at a point where he usually (often?) cannot stand or walk without assistance. You'd think the next course of action would be clear, wouldn't you? But I just can't even think about it, much less look in his eyes and say or even know that this is the end. He is such a good, sweet dog. We love him so much. This has all happened so fast. We are so soft-hearted. I am going to cry. I wish we could go for just one last walk down to the creek, and then run back up our block together with him bounding ahead and looking back to make sure I'm still behind him, grinning mouth open, tongue hanging out.
But we can't.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
A quote I ran across in my reading today, from Best American Essays 2006. C.S. Lewis wrote of his late wife in "A Grief Observed" that "her absence is like the sky, spread over everything." Today, that's a feeling I can understand.
It isn't that my day was completely terrible, or yesterday either. But there have been some hard things.
For instance,
Kelly's cat, Morris, was diagnosed yesterday with feline leukemia. I visited them tonight. It was good to spend time with Kelly and Maggie, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching "Glee" with them, but seeing Morris, probably for the last time, was terribly sad. He is almost completely blind (this has come on pretty suddenly), and as a result of this he is now nervous and afraid all the time. He is often very affectionate, and follows people around the house by sound. He runs into things and trips over things. If he were my cat I think I would want to give him some time, to see if he could adjust to this new blindness. But they will probably put him down on Saturday, and I can understand that. I'm just so sad. Kelly has decided to stay home, instead of coming to Lafayette as she had planned, in order to spend as much time with him as she can before he goes.
It is becoming more and more apparent to me that our older dog, now about 15 years old, will probably not last much longer. He is so sweet, but his sight isn't what it once was, nor is his hearing. He's a little senile. He is pretty weak and arthritic. His teeth aren't good. He's lived a pretty good life, but this is a very sad thing for me to contemplate.
David. This isn't new, but it doesn't hurt much less than it did. I can spend more time not thinking about it, and I can switch channels away from it more quickly, but that's all. He doesn't want to be in a relationship right now, for reasons that, I think, have very little to do with me. I respect and sometimes understand that. However, during the (prevalent) moments when I am unable or unwilling to convince myself that we are bad for each other, I do want to be in a relationship. With him. Oh, I do. I do, I do, I do want to. I grieve for the future I so often thought we would have together. But still I can't (or am unwilling to) let go of the idea that we aren't good for each other. So I find myself, despite the fact that my feelings are currently irrelevant to the state of our relationship, balancing barefoot on a knife edge. Again. Still.
But I said that my day wasn't completely terrible, and I feel like I should honor that statement. Because it wasn't.
Work was fine, even sometimes enjoyable. I had "All Shook Up" stuck fast in my head for no evident reason, and I spent much of the day dancing to it when no one was looking. Not just belly dancing today--I am growing weary of dancing in only one style. Today I also twisted and moved my feet more and included my arms and so on. I know everyone was wondering. I also took some time to stretch a little, because I never do and my hamstrings are, therefore, about as long as shoelaces. And I read Best American Essays 2006, as I said before. The essays I read today were all good, which was a nice change of pace. The reason I put the book down several weeks (months?) ago was that I hadn't been enjoying much of what I was reading there. Today though, as I am currently tired of fantasy, memoir, food, and science writing, essays were just what I needed.
After work I went to hang out at school until Chloe was ready to be picked up, and I spent my time very pleasantly in Ms Herod's office. She is, hands down, one of the coolest faculty members ever. She is a very intelligent, funny, and kind person. I was glad to be able to spend an hour or so with her this afternoon. When Chloe showed up I took her home, and sat with her for a few minutes checking email and such, walked the dogs, and went to Kelly's. We had steak (only) for dinner, seasoned with the seemingly ubiquitous Texjoy. It was delicious. We spent some time being sad about Morris. We watched American Idol and Glee*, we spent some more time being sad about Morris, I drove home. I called David on the way, as we'd had a nice conversation as I drove to Kelly's earlier, and had had to cut it short. Unfortunately this one was more on a downbeat, and then I had to go and bring up us. Why did I do that? Sometimes I feel like I'm just tearing myself open over and over again. And for what?
None of those "love is a golden cord" poems or quotes never used to make sense. Why does breaking up always make these things make sense? And why does breaking up make love that before seemed so evasive, so elusive, now seem like steel cables?
I sat in the car for a few minutes after I pulled into the driveway and hung up, wondering aloud why I always end up crying in the Volvo. Then I remembered that I had promised to help Chloe with her Chick Lit research paper, and I dried my face, and I went inside, and I started reading and listening and talking about Jane Eyre and Bridget Jones. So now my eyes are dry, and I am going to go take a shower, and sleep.
*Glee is utterly wonderful. I have only seen two episodes, but I want to own every season and every soundtrack. What could be better than a musical sitcom? What could be better than well-produced, well-performed, vocals-focused covers of fantastic pop and rock songs? I mean, really. If anyone was wondering what to get me for a birthday or Christmas or Tuesday present, this is it.
It isn't that my day was completely terrible, or yesterday either. But there have been some hard things.
For instance,
Kelly's cat, Morris, was diagnosed yesterday with feline leukemia. I visited them tonight. It was good to spend time with Kelly and Maggie, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching "Glee" with them, but seeing Morris, probably for the last time, was terribly sad. He is almost completely blind (this has come on pretty suddenly), and as a result of this he is now nervous and afraid all the time. He is often very affectionate, and follows people around the house by sound. He runs into things and trips over things. If he were my cat I think I would want to give him some time, to see if he could adjust to this new blindness. But they will probably put him down on Saturday, and I can understand that. I'm just so sad. Kelly has decided to stay home, instead of coming to Lafayette as she had planned, in order to spend as much time with him as she can before he goes.
It is becoming more and more apparent to me that our older dog, now about 15 years old, will probably not last much longer. He is so sweet, but his sight isn't what it once was, nor is his hearing. He's a little senile. He is pretty weak and arthritic. His teeth aren't good. He's lived a pretty good life, but this is a very sad thing for me to contemplate.
David. This isn't new, but it doesn't hurt much less than it did. I can spend more time not thinking about it, and I can switch channels away from it more quickly, but that's all. He doesn't want to be in a relationship right now, for reasons that, I think, have very little to do with me. I respect and sometimes understand that. However, during the (prevalent) moments when I am unable or unwilling to convince myself that we are bad for each other, I do want to be in a relationship. With him. Oh, I do. I do, I do, I do want to. I grieve for the future I so often thought we would have together. But still I can't (or am unwilling to) let go of the idea that we aren't good for each other. So I find myself, despite the fact that my feelings are currently irrelevant to the state of our relationship, balancing barefoot on a knife edge. Again. Still.
But I said that my day wasn't completely terrible, and I feel like I should honor that statement. Because it wasn't.
Work was fine, even sometimes enjoyable. I had "All Shook Up" stuck fast in my head for no evident reason, and I spent much of the day dancing to it when no one was looking. Not just belly dancing today--I am growing weary of dancing in only one style. Today I also twisted and moved my feet more and included my arms and so on. I know everyone was wondering. I also took some time to stretch a little, because I never do and my hamstrings are, therefore, about as long as shoelaces. And I read Best American Essays 2006, as I said before. The essays I read today were all good, which was a nice change of pace. The reason I put the book down several weeks (months?) ago was that I hadn't been enjoying much of what I was reading there. Today though, as I am currently tired of fantasy, memoir, food, and science writing, essays were just what I needed.
After work I went to hang out at school until Chloe was ready to be picked up, and I spent my time very pleasantly in Ms Herod's office. She is, hands down, one of the coolest faculty members ever. She is a very intelligent, funny, and kind person. I was glad to be able to spend an hour or so with her this afternoon. When Chloe showed up I took her home, and sat with her for a few minutes checking email and such, walked the dogs, and went to Kelly's. We had steak (only) for dinner, seasoned with the seemingly ubiquitous Texjoy. It was delicious. We spent some time being sad about Morris. We watched American Idol and Glee*, we spent some more time being sad about Morris, I drove home. I called David on the way, as we'd had a nice conversation as I drove to Kelly's earlier, and had had to cut it short. Unfortunately this one was more on a downbeat, and then I had to go and bring up us. Why did I do that? Sometimes I feel like I'm just tearing myself open over and over again. And for what?
None of those "love is a golden cord" poems or quotes never used to make sense. Why does breaking up always make these things make sense? And why does breaking up make love that before seemed so evasive, so elusive, now seem like steel cables?
I sat in the car for a few minutes after I pulled into the driveway and hung up, wondering aloud why I always end up crying in the Volvo. Then I remembered that I had promised to help Chloe with her Chick Lit research paper, and I dried my face, and I went inside, and I started reading and listening and talking about Jane Eyre and Bridget Jones. So now my eyes are dry, and I am going to go take a shower, and sleep.
*Glee is utterly wonderful. I have only seen two episodes, but I want to own every season and every soundtrack. What could be better than a musical sitcom? What could be better than well-produced, well-performed, vocals-focused covers of fantastic pop and rock songs? I mean, really. If anyone was wondering what to get me for a birthday or Christmas or Tuesday present, this is it.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
I feel just awful. Because there's this whole Camp thing, and I'm giving Sean a ride tomorrow and I want to see him and he wants to see me (and other people) because he's about to leave to join the military.
Then there's this family thing, being that Gran Fan died and I am so sad about it and I'm sure everyone who actually knew her well is far, far more sad about it, and everyone except me will be together at the funeral on Saturday, and I so want to be there and be with them and be there for them.
Because driving Sean was a prior commitment and important and because I originally thought the funeral would be next weekend when I'll be at Ian's baptism, and definitely couldn't go, I had until tonight pretty successfully driven the whole thing from my mind. I would be driving Sean and going to Camp, and that would be that. Then tonight my dad realized that New York is next weekend, and not this one, and immediately jumped on my case about how I was skipping the funeral to drive somebody I hardly ever see, and I just flipped out. I yelled at him in the car, and I went into the basement and sobbed for about twenty minutes. The thing with the movie today, and then this on top of it--the two together were just more than I can take. So I sent an "I feel completely horrible and don't know what to do" text message to my cousin Lewis, and now I have pretty much gone back to not dealing with it for the moment.
These last couple of entries make me sound like a constant ball of misery probably, and that isn't really true. I'm only a ball of misery sometimes. Other times I've actually been enjoying things a fair amount. Warm weather does that, and also I had six or seven hours of good sleep the other night, and it was one hundred percent magical. Now if I could only learn to do that on command, I would be in business.
I love the warm days. I love the look of the bright pollen. I love the rain outside. I don't love being heartbroken, and I don't love being torn in two.
Then there's this family thing, being that Gran Fan died and I am so sad about it and I'm sure everyone who actually knew her well is far, far more sad about it, and everyone except me will be together at the funeral on Saturday, and I so want to be there and be with them and be there for them.
Because driving Sean was a prior commitment and important and because I originally thought the funeral would be next weekend when I'll be at Ian's baptism, and definitely couldn't go, I had until tonight pretty successfully driven the whole thing from my mind. I would be driving Sean and going to Camp, and that would be that. Then tonight my dad realized that New York is next weekend, and not this one, and immediately jumped on my case about how I was skipping the funeral to drive somebody I hardly ever see, and I just flipped out. I yelled at him in the car, and I went into the basement and sobbed for about twenty minutes. The thing with the movie today, and then this on top of it--the two together were just more than I can take. So I sent an "I feel completely horrible and don't know what to do" text message to my cousin Lewis, and now I have pretty much gone back to not dealing with it for the moment.
These last couple of entries make me sound like a constant ball of misery probably, and that isn't really true. I'm only a ball of misery sometimes. Other times I've actually been enjoying things a fair amount. Warm weather does that, and also I had six or seven hours of good sleep the other night, and it was one hundred percent magical. Now if I could only learn to do that on command, I would be in business.
I love the warm days. I love the look of the bright pollen. I love the rain outside. I don't love being heartbroken, and I don't love being torn in two.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
New shower head test results are in: that thing is wonderful.
Also, I feel it should be mentioned regarding the last post that I am conscious of the fact that "I might've" sort of expects, if you will, an "except for" response, similar to an "if...then" clause. I did think about this, but there wasn't really a reason I didn't call. Self respect, maybe? Or maybe it was that I was at work. Or maybe that I don't feel that I can ask a non-boyfriend guy to sit there while I (possibly) lose my mind. But really, as they say, there but for the grace of God go I. Today is sunnier, both literally and metaphorically speaking. Also, incidentally, David is in town and we are going to the cheap showing of "How To Train Your Dragon." I guess it's sort of an experiment. I consider it progress that when I called him at 4* and he was 30 minutes away from my house and had not yet checked movie times, I was angry. I would say that anger is a great improvement over listless heartbreak.
On a sadder note, I have discovered that GranFan, my great aunt (by marriage) and the Williams family matriarch, passed away this afternoon at 12:30. I am much sadder than I would have expected, considering that I didn't know her well and hardly ever spoke to her. I guess I am sad for the grief so many of my cousins and aunts and uncles are and will be feeling, and my parents as well. I think that her death also feels like the passing of an era, the ending of an age. She was (to the best of my knowledge) the last of her generation in that part of the family. When I called and told my dad today, he just said, "I've known her since I was two."
*It is important to note here that I had earlier mentioned that the movies are only $5.50 at a particular theater, and only between 4 and 5:00.
Also, I feel it should be mentioned regarding the last post that I am conscious of the fact that "I might've" sort of expects, if you will, an "except for" response, similar to an "if...then" clause. I did think about this, but there wasn't really a reason I didn't call. Self respect, maybe? Or maybe it was that I was at work. Or maybe that I don't feel that I can ask a non-boyfriend guy to sit there while I (possibly) lose my mind. But really, as they say, there but for the grace of God go I. Today is sunnier, both literally and metaphorically speaking. Also, incidentally, David is in town and we are going to the cheap showing of "How To Train Your Dragon." I guess it's sort of an experiment. I consider it progress that when I called him at 4* and he was 30 minutes away from my house and had not yet checked movie times, I was angry. I would say that anger is a great improvement over listless heartbreak.
On a sadder note, I have discovered that GranFan, my great aunt (by marriage) and the Williams family matriarch, passed away this afternoon at 12:30. I am much sadder than I would have expected, considering that I didn't know her well and hardly ever spoke to her. I guess I am sad for the grief so many of my cousins and aunts and uncles are and will be feeling, and my parents as well. I think that her death also feels like the passing of an era, the ending of an age. She was (to the best of my knowledge) the last of her generation in that part of the family. When I called and told my dad today, he just said, "I've known her since I was two."
*It is important to note here that I had earlier mentioned that the movies are only $5.50 at a particular theater, and only between 4 and 5:00.
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