Our House

It is hard to describe to others the connection, the affinity I have to that house. When we first bought the house in 1992, I said, "I will die in this house". I said, "I will never sell". At the time, I meant it and when the discussion came, some 12 years later, I initially said "No". But like many things in your life, positions change or are negotiated. There were many reasons we sold and by the time we were done, the regret was but a glimmer. I soon put it behind me to focus on the "new house, new neighborhood, new adventures". I was delighted and thrilled with my beautiful "new home" but I never stopped going back to look and remember. I followed the developments on "my house", because that's how I have always felt, like a love sick stalker. Not at first, but as time went on, the drive down the road became a frequent escapade. We talked often of "our house" and we knew soon that in the near future, it would be available again. Like a moth drawn to the flame, we both kept going back. We talked, debated, said "yes, lets do it" to "we made the right decision, leave it alone". Yet, we haven't been able to. Every time I have walked through those doors over the years it has been abandoned, I felt at home. When I saw the condition they had left it, I cried in sorrow that they never saw the gift they had been given and therefore, did not treasure. When I heard another bid had been placed, I cried for fear that I would loose it. I could not envision anyone else living there. I believed it was "our house". I cried hardest, when told, "They've accepted your offer"; Tears of joy and happiness. We close next week. We have a lot of renovation to do. We have to sell our current house but we are going home! I wish you were hear, Cynthia, to celebrate, to shop, to help design, to help share in the excitement and frustration of renovating "our house", a second time. It is going to be a very busy year. I wish you were here; what fun we would have.

You're with Your Mom Now

You're with your Mom now and I know you're happy about that; I know how much she meant to you. I'm glad you missed the drama of her passing. Although in a very selfish way, I'm angry that she out lasted you. I envy the close relationship you have with your Mom, especially the love. My Mom is starting to deteriorate and get weaker; It won't be long before we will be having to face the same issues and do the same caregiving that you and your sisters were doing and Mom will be a hand full, much more difficult than your Mom. I wish you were here to guide me. Right now, because of our confrontation, awhile back, she doesn't want me to take care of her. So that is going to be interesting and create some strange dynamics with my sisters and brother. I can't believe you're not here to talk to. Each day is a little easier, as you can tell, by my absence; Or maybe it's just harder to keep talking when you don't talk back. Enjoy your Mom, stroll arm in arm through the Heavens, think of me often, and know I miss and love you.

My Mom Didn't Use That Word!

I started the year off ranting , just a little. Could have been a lot more; there's a lot more material/things going on in this world, mine and the larger, broader "world" to rant about. Things that I know you, my very best friend would appreciate. I know I need to bring it down a notch, after all, we're not even 2 days in to the new year; but I can't help but smile remembering how it would have been had you been hear with me. Oh, the fun we would have had! The ranting we would have done! The F bombs we would have thrown around! The martini's we would have shared! I laugh when I think about that, specifically, because when you were in the hospital, your daughter and I were walking, arm and arm down the hall, and I said, "I can see Cynthia now stomping her feeting, hand on hip, going "Well fuck me!" And your precious daughter got this shocked look on her face and said, I swear to you, "My Mom didn't use that word". I just as shocked, burst out laughing, along with your son, who knew better, and said "What Cynthia did you know?" We all had the biggest laugh and swapped quite a few stories about you over the next few hours, as we waited and waited and waited. Even then, I knew what the end result was going to be; I knew the moment I walked in your room that night; But for a little while, the stories of our rantings provided memories of laughter and something special for the three of us to share. It's not much fun ranting alone. Maybe I'll do something different beginning this year.

Happy Fucking New Year 2010!

I know that I am suppose to be all a gush with the promise of a new year; a clean slate; a fresh start; a new beginning; A chance to just discard everything bad that I did or has happened this year and like drawing back a curtain, in a dark room, letting in the bright light, WHAM - we get to start over- BRAND NEW. BECAUSE IT'S THE FUCKING NEW YEAR! Just not feeling it. Just don't believe it works that way; I know it doesn't. Sounding pretty cynical aren't I? God, would I love to be having this philosophilical conversation with you over a dirty martini! See everybody around me, especially now, is expecting me to make New Year's resolutions that include the following: 1) I will stop grieving Cynthia 2) I will accept that she is gone 3) I will make new friends (so that I won't miss her) 4)I will let go (this could include a lot of things)........ Now there are many more things I could add, not related to you, the usual: lose weight, exercise, budget better, spend more quality time with my family. Or how about enjoying more honesty and eliminating political correctness from my vocabulary? I kinda of like that one. What I really want to do; what I really want my resolution to be is: stop letting others tell me what I need, What I need to feel, think, say or do; About anything; I will do or not do what I need to when the time is right for me, NOT because the clock has struck 12 and a New Fucking Year has begun.