i wrote out his obituary with a thick kindergartner's pencil, on the back of the factsheet that my sister gave me, under orders to make it good. he was 68 years old, we have the priviledge to keep writing and writing and still, while it goes to the papers today, long and taking up lots of space... still it feels like nothing, so flimsy, so lightweight and flapping listlessly from the line... my dad was not that kind of man, that easy to sum-up kind of person. none of us are, not even that guy over there that we think we know.
i know all about the stages of grief, and sudden loss, i have seen them written and now i get to watch myself and all those nearby me go through them too. we are bereft. and we keen. and we fear the suddenness of this change, the things imagined which we won't see. the loss is great, and i don't know how to keep feeding my kids and yet i will.
i've gotten deliveries of warm bread, and soups and stews and i've seen my brother sister and mother near collapse and spill over into it. and i've been there, i was right there. and i've seen it and know it to be real, so real. and while i pine away for the man i must internalize, i am so glad that i had my forty years with him, and so grateful that I have a part of his measure. and yes, i can make the hookshot he taught me so many years ago. (most of the time)
i love you, world. and forgive me if i drop off the end of you again and again. i have lost my middle.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Monday, November 18, 2013
my dad had a heart attack in the backyard on friday. and he survived the cpr my husband gave him, and he survived the ride in the ambulance, and he has survived three nights in the critical care unit.
and that is what i know. today is the monday .
Posted by wifemotherexpletive at 7:21 AM
Thursday, November 14, 2013
my boys are aging out of superheroes. the eldest, that is, because the younger has bypassed them entirely in favor of skylanders and their nothingness. why worry about gameplayingvideoboys?
although we don't even have video nintendified junkies, we let them play on the laptop for 30 minutes on the weekend days and that is all... evidently, there is something in a skylander. we have the figures but not the 'portal'. and there must be something there... its become as powerful as anything else we've got going.
i wish they would let me loose imaginatively on what a 'sky lander' could be... just think on it for a minute. sky lander. say it. sky Land er.
losing the superheroes came on me out of the blue. i bought fingerless gloves with a batman insignia on them, actually the most-plain choice i had in the marketing of our childhoods, and the boy turned them inside-out so that noone would see.
how in the world do you help him figure out the world without the help of super powers and magic? this is the same kid who is asking very very pointed questions about Santa, which I duck and weave like a golden gloved boy.
although i don't find the Santa one too hard to handle. its always been a tag team effort, he and we, so I don't mind saying so. possibility is always open, its part of the definition, yes?
and then we have G-d, of course. easy peasy.
eight. he is eight.
the stretch and loss of him is tangible, sometimes. Chakra Carol says I am unhinged in time, though those are my words, and I am trying to touch as much wood as possible, to get myself back to the ground...back to being in the 'right now' and not so much the backwards and forwards of mothering, the seeing of the babes they were, the men they will be, and the boys they will be next week. the little one has thus far escaped my timewarping, mayhap her feminity allows the mystery to stand, something i am intimately familiar with, and that is that.
the weather has turned, and i layer the clothing the same way i am walking in time, multiply and animally fibered.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
deep sigh. long and slow. looong. slooow.
with the removal of the halloween candies, my mood seems to have levelled out a bit. i no longer want to bite strangers, and the fools who post hundreds of pictures of themselves can rest easy that i know they're just doing the best that they can, however lame that best may be.
i may have some sugar issues.
heh. really, i was all supernaturally predatory for about a week. damn the milkyways...
thinking about weaning the little one is enough to make me cry and feel monstrously defensive, and want to dig through the last trashbag for the candies. oh god.
i've still got that mood with me... its been quite a month, waves of 'feeling' come upon me and i'm beached for a while.
its not even menstruation, i tell you.
i am wickedly judgemental but believe me, no one is as judged as i judge myself.
well, probably lots of people judge themselves as harshly as i've been doing. it ain't right, i tell you. it aint.
hubsJ and i have instituted Wednesday as a 'date' day, a time to sit or sex it up or watch a movie, or whatever. so don't call. its an attempt at making time for ourselves amongst the grid of grind. we must poke through this momdad popstand of policing that we've/ I've made for myself. its probably good, makes me feel like poking holes in the hood i've pulled over my head. 'poking' overuse intended.
I've gotten lots and lots of books lately and I'm slogging my way through some enjoyable things, some less so but I feel compelled to slog. these are the authors, of spiritual matters, of good things, and of ridiculous science fiction and fantasy. i can't find the titles all at once. but, i mean, i still tire of the laze of linking. i do. i know it stymies us, this whole 'look it up' thing. but geez. GEEZ.
hello brother lawrence, mary rose o'reilly, jim butcher, robin hobb...and there is one on parenting that i want to read but can't seem to pick up. i think its because it wants me to stop yelling and if i could do that work, i believe i would already have done it. good god.
so there it is.
for my 40th birthday, i want to go spend a week at a nunnery. do you think that is plausible? with three young kids and a nice but not saintly husband? man, i pine away for church 5 times a day. pining.
allright, okay. done.
Monday, November 4, 2013
i'm in a terrible terrible mood and if I see one more self-portrait masking itself as self-exploratory self-love, i am going to kick the wall. really, i am. and i just said 'wall' because my other choices are a baby and a cat, and i'm trying to go the way of peace, all judgemental bile aside.
i am writing a blog, in which, one could argue, I talk about myself ad-nauseum. okay, i do, okay. and i use it to propel my thinking sometimes, i do. i DO.
but what is propelling about face shots? what is this all about? WHAT?!! over and over and over goddamned again and again.
geez, i am sick to death of people showing me their 'concerned' looks, their 'i'm serious' faces, their crinkled brows, their sparkly eyeshadow, whatever.
i just do not care.
shut your self-obsession up, already.
social media gone awry, we can't go back to before. people are sharing so damn much, its disgusting. how're we modeling for our kids, healthy interactions, maybe even real-live conversations. i am no model, i am the freak hiding under the table in the kitchen. (not literally, but internally.)
don't show your face again, you naval gazing goons. you're missing a whole lot of everything else. like me, like my mood.
HOW DARE YOU WANT TO MISS THIS GLORIOUS MOOD!!!! HOW DARE YOU?.
i'm shutting it off right now. no more today.
(did you cut your hair? oh god, so cute.... show me more shots of it... c'mon, do it.... )