A big box of nothing.

I gave Boyfriend his Christmas presents when he got home from work Christmas Eve morning and then again on Christmas morning.

I gave him a paw print ornament from Puppy (we made it together, she hated every second) and some shower stuff Christmas Eve. Then Christmas I gave him a couple movies and two new pairs of shoes that he was wanting.

He gave me nothing.

Technically, he gave me some Disneyland trading pins a few months back as they arrived, but those were because he thought I would like them (he’s been ridiculously into those damned pins). He claims that the stuff he ordered for Christmas haven’t arrived yet. Which means they are probably more damned pins.

I don’t collect pins.

I wanted an engagement ring. I want him to admit that he loves me so much that he’s over his other marriage and his problems with “the institution of marriage” and that he wants me to be his wife.

But that seems not to be.

I guess he did get me something for Christmas, a continued sadness that I won’t be getting to marry the man that I love and the complex that I’m not good enough for him. I know he feels bad that he had to go to work and leave me crying after we talked today, but you know what? Let him. If I have to live with the truth that he doesn’t want to be married (again) then he has to live with the truth that it hurts me and makes me sad.

It’s not right and it’s not fair but it’s the way it is. He’s not leaving me, I’m not leaving him. I just may remain unmarried in my lifetime. There are worse things. We have a life together and we love each other. The only things missing are engagement ring, wedding bands and a wedding.

Even though I know I deserve those things, I also know that I can live without them. And it looks like I will continue to do so.

And sometimes he SUCKS!

Boyfriend got himself fired from his job. Not as big of a deal as you’d think considering he had an interview where 3 departments at the same place want him; so yeah, he got a new job already. He’s that good.

But that new job doesn’t really start until mid-July-ish. So Boyfriend took a trip to see his family. Very thoughtful, very nice.

However, he didn’t buy a return trip ticket. So I have no idea when he’s coming home.

This wouldn’t be such a big deal except the last time he took a trip like this, is when I found my father dead and my stepmother died.

So yeah, I’ve been heavily medicated for the last 7 days, trying to distract myself from the irrational fear that someone else is going to die on me and I’m going to be by myself again for it.

Stupid. It’s stupid.

I was under the impression that he was coming home Wednesday, he did not.

Father’s Day is Sunday. The first Father’s Day since my Dad died. I’m having a bit of a hard time with it. Combined with missing Boyfriend and PMS this is just a sh*t storm of emotions right now. But I can’t be that girlfriend who whines and cries and begs for Boyfriend to come home and be with me during my Emotional Tornado. I’m not that girl.

But I got tired of the anxiety and asked him outright if he was coming home before Sunday so I could mentally prepare myself to be alone. I tried to word it so he didn’t feel manipulated; frankly I wasn’t trying to manipulate him I was trying to figure and make my plan for the day so I don’t stay locked inside my house crying because I’m thinking too hard.

He’s going camping with his Dad.

And I’m jealous. I’m mad. I want to scream at him “YOU SUCK!” because he gets to do whatever he wants and I’m stuck here and I have to deal with this alone, again.

I’ll be fine, I’ll cry and be sad, but I’ll be fine. I’ll visit with Brother and possibly Baby Nephew at the cemetery. I know myself and I know I’m not headed for a breakdown.

But it sucks that he’s not hurrying home to be with me. I know. It’s really stupid of me to think that way. But it’s what’s going on in my noggin.

Permission to Fall Apart

Pretty is having a time.

It’s widely known in the family that her grandmother is dying soon. Pretty rented a car and drove two states in a night to be there and have some time with her Grandma before she passes. Right now, she’s having to go to a mortuary with her mother to “make arrangements”. She’s doing her best to hold it all together inside. But why should she? Why isn’t she allowed to fall apart? In her family, they keep up appearances above everything else. And that’s not bad, it’s just their way.

When my Grandma died, I wasn’t there. But I did get to fly out to be with my family for the little Memorial we had soon after. It was great to see my Mommy, my Step-Dad, my Little Step Brother, his wife, their child, my Aunt, my cousins, my Uncle, the cats…yeah, there were a lot of things going on. But it wasn’t about Grandma until Mom and I went to pick up The Ashes.

It was strange. I felt like I wasn’t really there. I felt like I was an awkward pre-teen standing around while the Grown-Ups handled things. I stood there and stared at the little box containing the earthly remains of my maternal grandmother. I knew she wasn’t in there, I knew her Spirit was finally at rest with my Grandpa; but it was strange to think of the body that held me as a baby and child, consoled me when I was growing up, confounded me as a teenager and young adult, that aggravated me as an adult, it was all packed into a box that I could hold with one hand.

And my Mom did just that, she handed my Grandma to me. Put ME in charge of the Box O’Grandma. I remember giving it a little pet and saying “Hi Grandma” in a really small voice. 

When we got into the car, I went to sit with my Grandma Box on my lap. Suddenly, I wanted it anywhere but on my lap. Before my Mom could start the car, I’d unbuckled my belt and bolted out the door for the rear passenger door. My Mom inquired as to what “the hell” I was doing; and I explained, “GOD FORBID something happen and we get into an accident! I don’t want to be WEARING OR SPITTING UP GRANDMA FOR WEEKS ON END!”

We laughed, it’s our way. We fall apart, but we also are Masters of Humor as Defense. My Mother’s family has a genetic predisposition for it. It’s a bit like a sitcom; we can be wailing, wringing our hands in despair…and then one of us will make a fart joke. It’s just what we do. 

And I’m glad. In that family, we have given ourselves the Permission to Fall Apart, but there’s something inside us that knows it’s ok to pick those pieces right back up without any doubt that it’s the right thing to do.

 

Faux wants to get rid of the dog now too

It’s been almost 2 weeks since Baby Nephew was born. Have I been over since the day I helped them bring him home? Nope. Have I been invited over? Nope.

Faux had “had it” with Chatty living with them, so Brother put her in a hospice but couldn’t move Chatty’s dog into the hospice because the dog is too old, blind, deaf, etc and she’d be a liability to the other hospice guests. 

Brother just sent an email stating that the dog “must find a new home” because of the noise the dog makes on the wood and tile floor (UMMM SORRY IT’S A DOG WITH CLAWS THAT CLACK ON THE FLOOR AND SHE’S OLD SO SHE FALLS OVER SOMETIMES) and because Faux has “too much on her hands with an infant and can’t deal with” the dog anymore.

Excuse me…the dog sleeps all day. The dog needs to be let out into the backyard and fed. She doesn’t require tons of attention. I found if you walk around the backyard with her, she doesn’t bark or anything. 

I’m also pretty sure that newborn babies sleep, feed, and poop. THE END. What’s this “hands full” Brother is talking about??? She feeds the baby, she holds the baby, she could walk around outside in the backyard with the baby while the dog is outside. 

I’m really getting angry again at Faux. She managed to get Chatty, Brother’s mother out of her house and now she’s going to have Chatty’s dog put out too. Or worse, put down

WHAT HAPPENED TO BROTHER?!?! What happened to his balls??? When did it become ok for Faux to UNILATERALLY call the shots in that house????

Needy: The Fine Line

Pretty has become a bit Needy. But not in the way you’d normally define it.

Anyone who’s been through a brutal breakup can tell you that being alone (even in a room full of people, but especially if they are strangers or acquaintances) is absolutely abysmal and can result in a neediness that is palpable. Attaching yourself to a friend or small circle of friends creates a life raft to keep you from falling back into bad habits (*cough cough* texting or calling your ex *cough cough*) and zapping your new found singledom.

I know certainly have planted myself firmly into the embraces of friends many times over the course of my Relationship Lessons. Sometimes becoming too much of an emotional burden to my nearest and dearest. Bless them, my friends have seen me through hell and gone; sometimes have had to come clean my house because I was too depressed to get out of bed. They saved me when I wasn’t able to save myself.

Pretty isn’t that far gone, and I doubt she will even get close to that. But she is having trouble with her new found Alone Time. She isn’t used to it! She’s been caretaking for boyfriends, family members and roommates for years so it’s ingrained in her to be around others. Then along came Hat, who must’ve recognized the Motherly trait and managed to score the ultimate and have Pretty marry him (well, she wanted to marry him too, but still…) and take care of everything for him! Pretty was used to this! So now that she’s stepped out and said “NO MORE OF THIS!” and has taken steps to dissolve her marriage to Hat; she’s having a bit of trouble just being “solo”.

Case in point; she’s only gone out by herself when there’s no other option. Granted, most people wouldn’t go out at all if there was no one to go out and meet. But I’m a firm believer in taking myself to the movies or taking myself shopping; making the time for myself. Yes, it’s nice to have the camaraderie, but it’s important to be able to be by yourself and like it! 

Because we live in the area of the United States that we do; having her own apartment or home isn’t something that Pretty can swing at the moment. So she’s moving in with a different mutual friend who shares a multiple roomed home. She’ll have lots of roommates to take care of, she’ll rarely be alone. Which, if she were a different person, I would think that was a good thing. But with her, it’s very easy for her to fall back to the old House Mother pattern. She needs to look after people!

I will say this, it has been TERRIFIC having her around, and I knew I missed having one on one time with her when she first got together with Hat and since; but I forgot HOW MUCH fun we have together so it’s been really nice. I feel like my friend Pretty has come back into herself and that’s so great!

Hat can suck it. 

Sad Wednesday

My Brother had to put his mother, Chatty in a hospice/home today. She’s very upset about it, understandably so, but he and Faux just can’t take care of her even with the In Home Caregivers daily. This all came to a head when the caregivers canceled over the holiday weekend, giving Brother and Faux a nasty taste of the pressure of taking care of a dying woman and preparing for a new baby.

Faux is getting induced tomorrow. They have a pre-appointment today, and Brother had to rush to get the paperwork filled out and Chatty moved in ALL BEFORE their pre-appointment today. I’ve been recruited to pick up the last of Chatty’s things from their home and take them to the new hospice/home and help Chatty by organizing her new room. 

I don’t want to. It’s too sad. I am going to have to go through her old room, bring a bunch of stuff to her new place where she doesn’t want to be, and pretend that everything is fine.

It’s not fine. She’s dying and nobody can take care of her the way she wants to be taken care of. She doesn’t want to be taken care of by “strangers”, we’ve all explained that “all the caregivers were once strangers” and “it’ll be an adjustment but you’ll be ok” but it’s not ok.

My poor Brother is wracked with guilt and torturing himself because he’s torn between his desire to take care of his dying mother, his rock, his biggest fan, the one family member he’s always been close to; and his wife and soon-to-be born son and their comfort in their own home. Granted, in my eyes, the dying woman should take precedent; and the rest of the stuff can fit around it. But it’s too much work, trying to take care of a newborn is going to be hard enough, dealing with someone at the end of their life too just overflows one’s capacity for dealing with stuff.

It’s Sad Wednesday.