Love is a tricky little bitch, and the pain that goes with her can take forever to pass, if it ever does. Sometimes, I think it just lingers around for that perfect moment when your guard is down. Then … BAM! It slaps you upside the head, as if you forgot it existed and needed the reminder.
My maternal grandfather passed away in 1995, two months before my wedding where he was supposed to walk me down the aisle. There are times, even to this day, when he’ll pop into my mind and I’ll shed a tear or two. I adored my gramps, and miss his stories of courting my grandmother and singing in bed songs the likes of “down in the meadow.” There are times when my grandmother, who passed in 2003, enters my mind, and I think about all the things she taught me, like cooking. We played countless board games together and she’s the one who bought me my first typewriter when I was eight years old and taught me how to type. She’s the reason I write, and I made my first book at that same age. I smile inside when I think of her, and on occasion, I shed a tear because I miss her, spry little woman that she was.
Sometimes, calling out to one of them can help center me when I’m rushed with a memory of lost love … it just happened to me a few minutes ago. There I was, playing on the ‘net, looking at a few things, talking to people, applying for jobs. I believe the subject of food came up. I have a food blog, you know, here. I’ve been doing quite well in the keep-that-shit-out-of-my-head arena, have long since moved past the multiple emotions associated with losing love, and am in the stage of just trying to move onward with my life (I seem to be stuck here for some reason). I have no interest in dating anyone. Why? Because I know how vulnerable I am right now, and a vulnerable woman attracts the wrong sort of man. The type of man I’ve never experienced in all my life, aside from my father. That man will be punched by the Kitty if he comes near me right now. Thank God for good friends looking out for your best interests. Deni is like that too. I love my girls.
Needless to say, with the topic of food came memories.
I miss his cooking. <——THIS fucking one tiny little tidbit of thought had me bursting into tears earlier. WTF? Make it stop. Make it go away. Take away the hurt. Grandpa. I calmed down after that. It was just weird.
However, just because I burst into tears, it doesn’t necessarily mean that what I’m crying about is the thought that triggered the episode. Maybe I’m overly emotional right now because one of my “kids” started chemo today. When I say “kids,” I’m talking about kids I worked with at the school – one of my Writer’s Club kids. He’s 19. This just isn’t right. Young, energetic, 19-year-old boys aren’t supposed to get cancer! I don’t understand it, but then, I suppose there’s still a lot in this world that I don’t understand and likely never will. The logical side of my brain will make several attempts at deciphering those things, but I’ll still end up in confusion, anger and sorrow.
I’m 41, single, I have fibromyalgia and lupus, I’ve lost everything and I’m starting over in every aspect of my life. I can honestly tell you that it’s a miracle I’m still here. But why? I’ve always said that which doesn’t kill me will only make me stronger. I don’t feel very strong right now, not when my body has no energy to do minor tasks. My grandmother always said Things will always get better. Sometimes, I have trouble seeing the rainbow over the hill. Sometimes I make my best attempts at changing my latitude, but fail miserably.
I’ve seen things improve for me before. I’ve watched it as I ride the roller coaster of life with its ups and downs. There seems to be a pattern. It’s as though when I forget to be thankful, when I forget to acknowledge the steps that got me to that happy place, things begin to fall apart. That might or might not be true, but that’s what it feels like. I’ve always been the generous type, helping people when I can, however I can, and I don’t ask for anything in return. I never have. I also rarely ask for help. Me asking for help is like trying to pry a kill from a lion. It just plain isn’t going to happen unless you’re related to me, and even then, it takes me five hours to figure out the wording and get past my damn nervousness and swallow my pride so I can ask you for help. Pride is a very large piece to swallow and I usually end up choking on it for a bit. The lion might not be the best analogy, but it’s pretty accurate in my head because that’s how difficult it is for me.
That shattered heart at the top of this post? That’s where my heart is at still. I’ve lost more than I can fathom over the last year and a half – love, family, friends … I won’t even go into possessions because they really don’t matter anymore. I know life isn’t supposed to be easy. I understand hard work and hard life and the rewards that come from those things. I’ve experienced them and lost them many times, only to spring right back again. I’ve lost people to suicide, cancer, accidents, etc., yet I’m still here trudging through life, trying to find my place in a world full of selfish, arrogant people who care nothing for others or the earth beneath their feet. I sit and watch the lies spew from their mouths as everyone around them thinks they’re the cat’s meow. Yes, I just used that term. Deception is a dangerous game to play, no matter the amount of power you hold in your hands. I suck at it. Why? Because I’m actually incapable of lying, though I’ve never really understood the reason for my not having the ability. I sit and watch and try to figure out how people who play those games get anywhere in life. I have to tell you, I truly do believe in Karma. The only thing that sucks about Karma is we don’t always get to see the results. Sometimes, I hear about it, though. Sometimes, I’m given a glimpse of it in the person’s future. That one startles the hell out of me, takes about half a second, and has happened once in the last four months. It had nothing to do with me and I am not in that person’s future, but I saw their future. Karma only visits because of what you’ve set in motion by your own hand, thoughts and actions, not what anyone else has done to you. Either way, Karma gave me a glimpse before I even knew Karma would take over.
Now, if I could just get past my own shattered heart. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not all depressed like I was for most of last year. I’m actually getting there, albeit at a snail’s pace. It’s a long healing process when you lose someone you gave your heart and soul to. Even longer when they’re still alive. I’ll survive, as always. I’ll keep writing about everything, whether you read it or not. I just hope that one of my books makes it to publication before I die, and Kitty, if I die before that happens, I’ll write down the password to my laptop for you. =p
No, really, it’s okay. I’m starting to feel like this again …
Oh, and this past weekend, my friend Mishko got married and I’m so very fucking happy for her. She deserves this kind of happy. People I haven’t seen in probably 20 years were there. You can blame them for the reflection on death because we were talking about that. Yes, at a wedding reception. Hey, when you haven’t seen each other in ages, you tend to reflect on those you’ve loved and lost over the years. We lost a lot of friends. I really don’t want to lose anyone else this year. Can we stop time for a bit, please? Thanks.
*hugs* and happy thoughts to all of you. I hope your dreams come true.
Please say a prayer for my Pasha. He’s a good kid and an amazing writer. I’d like to see his name on a book cover in Barnes & Noble someday.
UPDATE: I just got a job offer today and start in two weeks, so things are definitely looking up. =)