HALLOWEEN

This year's Halloween was kind of hard for me. Usually I am totally excited for it, and this year I was just feeling blah.  My son got dressed in his Green Lantern costume and we set out.  Downtown businesses did a nice job with decorations, though it is truly sad to see the increasing number of empty storefronts due to the economy.  After finishing the "town approved" trick or treating, we went to the subdivision behind Fred Meyer as we always do.  Less people were handing out candy and also we got stuck behind this morbidly obese kid and his family and that made my son mad.  Even the boy's Dad was mumbling about he (the child) would probably have a heart attack before the night was over due to all the exercise he was getting. :-/  Anyways, there was a sign up at the end of one of the streets.  We had never gone up that hill before, so decided to check it out.  It was a retirement village.  A lady with a HUGE orange kitty in a stroller was sitting out front.  We went inside and in the lobby was a bunch of residents sat in a half circle with loads of sweets to hand out.  They were all so happy to see the kids.  One old dear was even taking pictures of every child she gave candy to.  I didn't allow my son to see, but I got choked up and teary eyed.  The lady with the camera reminded me of my Great Gran who raised me.  My Great Gran (fondly known to all as Gabby because my Great Grandpa said she talked too much) Always loved Halloween.  Our neighbourhood wasn't real safe, so when me and my friends were out trick or treating she would lock the front door and open one of the tall windows on the front porch and hang out it to hand out the candy.  She always loved seeing all the kids and costumes and always counted how many came to the house.  For her the more the better and she was disappointed if it wasn't a few hundred.  She has been gone now going on 20 years and I still miss her like crazy.  I wish she could see us now.  I think she would be proud.  She was the one person in my life who loved me unconditionally.

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse...

So, in 2 days it will be 2 weeks since we buried my Mother.  A few days after arriving home my Uncle got a strange call from a blocked number saying that what we were looking for was under Mom's bed.  Peculiar, as she actually slept in 2 different beds.  I, by this time was obviously back in Oregon, so my only hope was sending Dylan in to see.  He was nervous, not to mention just didn't really want to alone.  I called My Aunt who lives in Indiana and she was still really torn up over the loss of her sister, so she didn't stay on long, but handed the phone off to her husband.  My Uncle Bill said he would go up there with Dylan but just really didn't want to because my Aunt had promised him he didn't have to be nice to my Mom's husband (now known to everyone as the asshole), now that my Mom was gone.  I also called my Mother's close friend and neighbour Sue to see if she or her husband, or both would also go down there with Dylan.  She started crying and said her husband had banned her.  She went on to tell me things that shook me to the core.  She said asshole had been hitting on her heavily pregnant daughter whenever she was around.  She also said he was forever making lewd remarks to her, the last being as my Mother lay there dead waiting for the coroner.  He asked her what he was going to do about his sexual needs and would she help him!  Bloody Hell!  After her telling me a lot more she went on to tell me about the week my Mother died.  I had been led to believe she was in a coma 2 days after my birthday.  Sue said not true, that in fact on the 12th that my Mother was in great spirits and out in her yard walking about with her walker.  She also stated Mom was planning on going shopping with her for her upcoming grand baby.  So, again, the asshole caught in more lies.  She told me all this last week.  This past Saturday Dylan got together with Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bill and the plan was they would take asshole to dinner and Dylan would use his key and go look in the house.  Well, that didn't happen.  The locks had been changed!  Who changes the locks on a house because their wife dies?  Who changes the locks and doesn't tell a "son" (Dylan) that he lived under the same roof with for years?  So, thankfully for cell phones Dylan was able to reach Kathy and said he would come down when they returned.  He got in the house and said asshole acted ok, allowing my Aunt to have some of my Mother's clothes but Dylan was able to find nothing.  So, if my Mom ever did actually have a will, asshole found it.  I had J call the asshole to check in from our end, just to see where his head was at and to make sure he wasn't throwing out my Mother's stuff and out of the blue he says we can BUY her china, china hutch and formal dining room table for 3k.  WHO does that shit?  Before he said I could have the china, she had it before she ever had him.  Not to mention SHE bought that furniture with her money, not his, so why is he trying to profit.?  This puts me in a helluva situation.  I didn't and don't want the furniture, however, it is obvious if I don't buy it he will sell it to someone else.  So, I either, after giving up my beautiful home here, have to change my "style" to accommodate her formal style of furniture, or just rent a storage unit to keep it in.  I have Marcus going to a lawyer in Indiana to see what, if anything can be done about asshole.  All I want is my Mother's wishes carried out.  I know she left the bulk of her things to Marcus and Dylan, as far as cash, vehicles, her half of the house etc.  and that is fine.  However, NOW it seems to matter that I am the biological daughter.  I have to get the lawyer, do the fighting etc. as well as work, care for my son and try to orchestrate a cross country move that is breaking my heart. I am under so much stress I fell like my head could explode.  I went to my Dr. yesterday.  He gave me the sleeping pills I asked for as well as some mood regulators.  Also, my blood pressure is high. :-/  I eat right for the most part.  I exercise, my weight is correct for my frame...so he figures it is the stress.  Nice.  It feels like I cannot even properly grieve my Mother because I have been throw in the middle of this fight.  In my mind, her things shouldn't be touched yet.  No one should be fighting over who gets what and certainly asshole shouldn't be planning to sell all her stuff, sell the home she loved and then run off and do who knows what.  An odd thing happened the other day.  I have no explanation for it, and if it is her trying to tell me something, I wish she would be clearer.  I was looking at homes for sale on a homes website I am registered on.  They have my info as in like what I want in a house.  The first house that came up that day in my search was the house my Mother owned when I was a baby.  It is small, in a bad neighbourhood, nothing like on my search criteria....so why did it come up?  How weird is it that it is for sale now that I am looking to come back to the area?  I don't know how long this legal battle will take with the asshole.  Guess I will find out after Marcus sees the lawyer.  I think though, if it is going to be longer than a year I may hold off my move until it is settled.  I don't want to have to worry about asshole darkening my doorstep and to be honest, right now the only thing keeping me sane is my son and the beach. I go to the ocean to drown my scars, wash away my pain...all figuratively of course since it is all emotional and internal.  *sigh*

A time that puts everything into perspective

As those of you that are close to me know, I recently reconnected with my Mother.  She had cancer as well as a multitude of other health problems.  She lost her battle for life on September 16th, 2011.  I last spoke to her on my birthday and she said she was going on Oxy for the pain but would call me in a few days.  Little did I know at the time that that would be the last time I ever heard her voice again.  Within 2 days she was in a coma like state and within the 6 days after that, she was gone.  I got the call at a little after 3 a.m. my time, from a man I loathe...her husband.  Most of my life I was never close to my Mother.  My Great Grandmother, for the most part, raised me.  I always felt, and rightfully so, that my Mother chose her husband over me.  He always came first. He treated her badly, like really badly, made her feel worthless and stupid and tried to control her in every way, right down to how she spent her money, the money she busted her ass for in a hot, dangerous steel mill. I tried over the years to connect with her, but it always ended badly.  We would argue and then not speak.  I always felt at a loss and unloved, to say the least.  Her family never had anything to do with me, so I truly felt like an outsider.  A few weeks before she died, she had asked me to write her a letter, telling her all my pain due to her, all my complaints etc.  I told her I didn't want to, that there was no point in upsetting her.  She assured me she would get over it, that she really wanted to know.  I started an outline of the letter, but never finished it.  It just seemed too cruel to upset a dying woman.  Back in the mid 90's she took in two brothers and raised them as her own.  This hurt me deeply.  However, this past summer I got to spend a lot of time with Dylan, the younger one, and he is such a fantastic kid.  She truly gave him the best of herself.  I couldn't resent him for it, as it wasn't his choice and again, I was and am so amazed at him and how great he is.  He came to stay with me a few months ago and was so good to my son.  I had originally said I would not go to her funeral because I didn't want any part of the drama, however, Dylan needed support and in the end I just felt it the right thing to do.  I had so many mixed feelings about her death, I decided to drive instead of fly so I had time to think.  I finally got to my big brother's house in the wee hours of the morning.  Always lovely to see a friendly face.  The next day we stayed in our pj's literally all day before I headed to Indiana and our hotel.  My poor son was scared at his Uncle's, even though our Jeff is a Federal Cop, has a red nosed Pit bull and numerous guns for protection, being in the 'Hood wasn't for my baby.  I called Dylan when I got to the hotel and he said he would come over.  The next day we went to the wake together.  He surprised me as he was dressed in a lovely suit and kept asking if it was ok.  As soon as we entered and saw Mom we fell to pieces.  Again I felt like an outsider because my Mother's family came up to hug and comfort Dylan and barely said a word to me.  I felt like screaming "I am her daughter". but of course I didn't.  Kindness came in the strangest of places.  Close friends of mine begged off and didn't show, you know, the ones I expected to come.  However, my "aunt" Rhea, who  I truly never expected to see, came, and she hugged me.  Stacey, who I haven't seen in 15 years came and she hugged me.  Strangest and nicest of all, Dylan's grandparents on his dad's side came, as well as his Uncle and cousin.  They were all so gracious and all hugged me and said I was family with them now.  For someone such as myself who really feels pretty alone in the world, that meant everything to me.  My Step dad was telling all his lies to everyone that would listen, even though everyone knew he was lying.  He made up pictures to give everyone of him and my Mother together.  No one wanted it, but we all took them.  I cut him out, as did I am sure, most everyone else.  Some of my Mother's work friends made sure they spoke to me.  Right before we left a heated discussion came up about pallbearers.  Her husband wanted his two son's and my Mother didn't like them.  Besides, we had more than enough "family" to handle it.  The next morning when we arrived at the funeral home I decided to give my contact details to my Mother's family.  A argument broke out again over the pallbearers and the funeral director told me since my Mother's husband paid, he had all the say.  Lovely, always about the money.  I told him if that was the case, I would pay but he walked away.  In the end, one of my step brothers was a pallbearer.  Sorry mom, I truly tried.  At the grave site another argument erupted.  I had walked away but could hear the screams back by my car.  Apparently her husband was demanding just HIS flowers be left on her grave and Marcus wanted his there as well.  Rightfully so, she adored Marcus.  Luckily Marcus's Father in Law stepped in before it came to blows.  After all that her husband thought everyone would want to join him for the gathering and meal.  I begged off, said I felt ill, but everyone actually got together at a local restaurant.  I was put out because I didn't see Stacey anywhere and then my Uncle Bill told me...she didn't come because when she went up to the casket to pay respect to my Mother that my step dad was trying to pick her up!!!  Yes, he was so devastated over my Mother's death....Asshole!  After the dinner, my Mom's sister and brother both hugged me and said to keep in touch.  Dylan and I went back to my Mother's grave and then by her house.  My step dad acted ok but seemed in a huge hurry to be rid of her things.  I really didn't feel right touching stuff so soon but did take some photos that she had and a few bits and bobs.  I asked him to please not get rid of her things, that I would be back.  As I told Dylan, most I probably won't want for myself but would like someone in the family or circle of friends to have.  Just so he doesn't throw the stuff away or have some tramp he picks up touching my mother's things.  I am more than likely going to have to hire a lawyer to help Dylan get what Mother left him.  Her husband seems to think he is in total control of all and that is so wrong, and definitely not what my Mother wanted.  I just want her final wishes carried out, no matter what they are.  I made the horrible cross country drive and am now home.  I have already heard from both my Mother's siblings.  I asked Dylan to move here with me, however, I also told him if he didn't want to due to not wanting to leave family and friends that I would move back.  The thought of going back is not an appealing prospect, as I love it here so very much.  However, in all of this I have learned, having family is important.  Being close to people is what matters.  I will never fully understand my Mother, how she thought, why she stayed in an abusive marriage etc, but I do wish I had known her better.  I wish I hadn't gotten so caught up in my own pain to not see and try to understand hers.  I hope to continue to get to know her siblings and all those dear to her.  She believed in a god and an afterlife, I do not....however, and maybe it is just the grief, but I saw a rainbow where there was no rain in Illinois crossing into Iowa and then a shooting star in Wyoming on the drive home.  The shooting star made me think of the song "Drops of Jupiter" by Train.  Pat wrote that for his mother, and it surely fits.  For a second there I did think it was mom trying to tell me something. I have learned I need to have more grace and forgiveness in my heart and not stay so closed off.  It truly is better to love and lost than to never loved at all....

False Advertising

Ok, anyone who truly knows me, knows I think too much. With the divorce rate being 50% or higher I just wonder why people are fake when in a relationship. I mean when they are dating, he/she likes everything you do, is exciting, seems a dream....but once the I do's happen, things change. Suddenly they become the most boring person in the world. They let themselves go physically and don't seem to have the things in common with you that they claimed to before. This to me is FALSE ADVERTISING. Why trap someone because they think you are someone else and then when you get them you let the REAL you come out? Everyone I know, or well almost everyone that is married has said this to me. "Oh, after we got married my partner changed". People don't just change like that. The fact of the matter is they were "acting" the whole time to snare you and once they did, then they showed their true self. I loathe when women use their kids as an excuse not to have sex with their husband, or if either partner says they are too tired. UGH! They are too tired for sex but not too tired to shovel tons of food in their face or do the things they WANT to do. People should just be true to themselves, be real. Don't mold themselves to be the "perfect" catch because the mold breaks, the real you oozes out and the person you fooled is miserable. I am not saying compromise is wrong. I am just saying things you are truly passionate about, do not compromise those things because it just builds resentment in both parties. I always get accused of being unfiltered, saying too much etc. Well, this is me, I say what I think and am NOT a false advertiser.

Boy eating treadmill

A few weeks ago, my son was on the treadmill for some exercise. He loves to push himself and ended up losing his footing because he had the speed too high. Instead of letting go and just getting maybe a few bruises, he decided to hold on. He managed to pull himself up and turn off the machine, however in the process, his pants had fell! He came to inform me of what had happened. Skin off his bony little shoulders had been rubbed off, as well as a HUGE patch off his bum cheek. He was crying and laughing at the same time, as was I. I hate to ever see him hurt, but at the same time, just due to where on him and how it had happened, it was hilarious. Later, when he showered he yelled out his bum was "sizzled". He was sore for about a week, but it will always make us giggle and defo be something to tell his kids one day!

Small Town Life...

So, in this "metropolis" I live in there are only 2 major stores to shop at. One is Wal Mart, which I loathe. So yeah, I was tired and it was closest, so me and my son ran in to get some Tide. This cow was blocking the isle with her cart and then bent over at the waist sticking her FAT ass out so the entire way was blocked! After I said excuse me literally 5 times she finally moved, but before she did, she snatched up her purse like me or my child was going to steal it. I was insulted and infuriated. If I EVER was going to steal it would sure as hell be from a more high class joint than Wal Mart. Not to mention she was fat, old and musty...why is it people in those discount stores think it is ok to go out unbathed anyways? EWW!

I don't understand, surprising reaction.

So last night, as I am sure many of you who followed #liftupellie, I kept checking my Twitter timeline for updates on this precious little girl. Anyone who knows me, knows I am not typically a fan of other people's kids. This little girl's courage and spirit genuinely touched me. I admit I don't understand (and never will) her family's belief in a God who would allow this to happen to an innocent child. I read where her poor mother said her faith had been tested, where just this very morning she was praying to her god that Ellie's sister not wake before Ellie finally let go of her life. Well, Ellie's twin sister did wake before her twin left this life. When I read that she had finally died, I wept. I wept for her, for her sister, her family. Very out of character for me, but has also erupted so much emotion in me. I told my own kids of this sweet girl's passing. I told them to be thankful every day that they are healthy and trivial things like a bad hair day or burning the toast isn't a big deal. I stand firm in my belief that there is no god. If there was innocent children wouldn't suffer as Ellie did. I wish her family all the best and I guess I do hope their faith gives them comfort. I don't get it, but I wish them peace. They deserve it.