Grieving the little things

I look to my right and I see her soundly sleeping. Her face is lax, her breathing even. It is time for lunch but I know her sleep is important so I let her be. I am sitting in the recliner in their room working on my laptop. I have a feeling I will be spending more and more days like this. I see that my routine is changing again and she will need me to be nearer than I’ve been in the past months. Mom looks for me or dad more often when she is awake. She wants to be part of what is going on and if having me in the same room with her comforts her, then I’ll be in here. She feels safest in their bedroom and really it is a nice room to be in.  There is a large window that overlooks the backyard and it’s a rather nice view. The sun doesn't shine directly into the room but there is plenty of natural light. With the window open I can hear the birds and neighborhood sounds. And if the dog is outside I can easily keep an eye on her. I will make these necessary changes in my daily routine to ensure she is calm and comforted.

Last night I read the obituary of a high school classmate. She lost her fight with breast cancer on Monday and Tuesday would have been her 38^th birthday. My classmate and I weren’t close anymore but her death touches me. I cry for her, her husband, her children, her family and her friends. She was a good woman and cancer took her much too soon. I pray for comfort for all those grieving her.

Her death is causing me to see something I hadn't wanted to acknowledge yet. The person I would normally reach out to immediately at the news of a classmate’s death (any death for that matter) would be mom. She was an aid at my middle school and she knew many of my classmates and those above me in school as well as many below. She knew this woman that passed- at one time this classmate and I had been best friends. If mom didn't have dementia I would have called her and we'd have reminisced and cried together. We would have cursed cancer and she would have consoled me. But I can't do that anymore. I can't tell her that someone I knew died. I also won't tell her I recently found out that one of the teachers she worked with passed away a month ago. I don’t tell her these things because not only do they confuse her but they cause her to cry and wonder why she can't “just go to Heaven.” Those conversations get both her and I upset. I do not know how to best deal with her questions of why she’s still here when she'd rather not be a burden to me and dad. I try to change the subject but sometimes she just can't be derailed. So instead of telling her things that will upset her, I keep my tears hidden from her- I do not let her see that I'm upset. I plaster a smile on my face and cry later where she can’t see or hear me.

Instead of losing my mom suddenly and then coming to terms with all the little things I'll no longer get to do, I'm grieving now for the little things. A few months ago it was her cell phone being turned off that hit me in the heart; today it’s not being able to talk to her about someone dying. Tomorrow it will be something different dawning on me that I no longer can do with mom.

I am experiencing deaths slow march in a different way than with Tony. I don't know which is way is worse: watching him decline and knowing he fully understood what was happening to him or watching my mom decline and lose her knowledge of what is happening. Both of these ways drain the caregiver and cause emotions I'd rather never have first hand experience with.  

I usually try to end a blog with “I know I'll be okay” or “I will survive this”. But today I'm not going to try to put a positive spin on this. I’m going to admit my classmate’s death has made me melancholy and I will shed more tears for her and for the loss of one more part of my mom. I am allowed to feel this way and shouldn't keep it in. I am grieving.

Chores- to do or to watch a movie instead?

Have you ever found yourself looking at the pile of laundry and wondering how it got so big? That’s usually me. I admit I am not a neat freak nor am I a fan of cleaning. I've been this way forever- I take after my dad that way. I am trying to change how I view these tasks and how I do them.  We'll take them one by one….

         Laundry- GAH! I swear that once a shirt hits the laundry room it finds a pair of pants and they reproduce like the proverbially rabbits. I have been known to let the laundry get so bad that the piles end up taking over the hallway after they overpower the actual laundry room.  At the beginning of March Scar came and she caught up all my laundry. I still am in awe of her ability to do it all. I mean, damn it made me feel like a real slob and she comes in like an awesome fairy and gets me caught back up. Add my fabulous W to the story and he’s much better at keeping up with the laundry than me. But I’m making changes to make it easier for him and I. We sort clothes now by ours versus theirs. Theirs being mom and dads. That way there is no “is this mom’s or Composer’s?” for W.  I have also started folding my clothes differently. I never really thought about it until Scar and W showed me there are different ways to fold things. I guess I was so used to doing it mom’s way to keep her happy back when I was younger that I never changed. Now- I have more space in my drawers because things are folded better.  Today I've vowed that the few loads we are behind will be done… by ME! I've got one in the dryer and one in the washer. I will fold them as soon as the dryer is done and put it right away. It does make life easier- and nobody better narc to my MOM that I finally get it! To my utter disbelief the world doesn't stop the moment I put my bras and shirts away as soon as they are folded. Who knew!?!

       Dishes- Okay so for me there is rarely a reason to do dishes by hand. I do have two pans that can’t go in and to wash them individually takes seconds. Not an issue. Now the loading and unloading of the dishwasher… that’s different. It’s like a game of Tetris for me when I do load it. Yeah I can drag my feet with the best of ‘em on this one. I swear I could rival your teenager for hating this job. And I do whine about it sometimes too. This morning it is running and it will get emptied today too. W pointed out to me that he’s picking up my bad habit of letting the dishes sit instead of getting them done right away. I was taken aback when he said that and it hit me that this isn’t the best habit. I would much rather pick up his good habits then him pick up my bad ones. Time to step up and do it the way it’s meant to be! I know W will gently but firmly help me get this habit out of the bad and into the good.

      Organizing all my craft stuff- This one I can’t look to anyone but myself to do. I bought a beautiful dresser last weekend to replace the one I don’t really like. That leaves the old one to become a craft station. Have I even emptied my clothes out of the old one to put in the new one? Are the drawers even in the new one or are they still sitting in the craft space? Yeah… three guesses and the first two don’t count.  I have a label maker and I have all the stuff to make my craft area rock. And yet not done. Procrastination is my middle name. How W does not slap the crap out of me I do not know. He’s a saint ‘cause I’m sure this is driving him nuts. He’s the organized one- even his school work is organized by what needs to get done each day. I need to follow his lead. I need to step up before my laziness causes a fight. Or worse the clutter takes over and we get featured on the hoarding show!                

These are the big things for me. Getting my chores done should be a priority, I know this in my heart. I am trying to make them easier and quicker but it is so much more fun to park my ass in my kick ass orange retro chair and play Candy Crush or Need for Speed on the WII or catch up on my Netflix list of 300+ movies and shows. If you have any tips, I’ll gladly take ‘em. I am determined to make our home comfortable and welcoming instead of the messy and cluttered world it’s slowly becoming.  

Now to get offline and do what I need to. I am more than the items littering the floor and hallways of this house. I am more than the items littering the floor and hallways of this house. I will become organized. I will become organized.

Who left kisses next to my chair? Oh my coffee is cold better go warm it up with a fresh cup. Is the dog whining to go out? Oh look... squirrel!

Twin Flame

My life has changed for the better in the past 6 weeks. I reconnected with an old love, but he’s not just a boyfriend… he’s THE one. W is the man of my dreams, he’s the male version of me (this was pointed out by numerous people over the last few weeks). Let me tell you our story….

I was 19 in 1996 and working at the local superstore. I was a petite blonde and had a sarcastic mouth to cover up hurts deep inside me. I caught the eye of W and when he smarted off to me I knew I would date him. I never planned on it being what it’s turned out to be. I guess that’s the how it was meant to be though; I would get a taste of him and him, me. But we needed to grow as individuals before we could be together again. Okay, that was a bit of digression. Back to 19 and falling for this boy that was sarcastic and kind and romantic and so ready for what he felt for me. I on the other hand got scared out of my mind by the power of our connection. We dated for a few months and then I bolted. He even bought me a ring for Valentine’s Day. I broke up with him one night as he dropped me off at home. I told him we couldn't see each other anymore and got out of his car. That’s how I did it; left him wondering what he'd done wrong. And it truly wasn't him- it was me. The power of our feelings was too much for me, I didn't understand how it could be so easy with him. I was used to fighting and yelling and dramatics to express myself and what I felt in a relationship. I was used to being hit and treated like dog crap. W was the polar opposite of my exes. It was too easy and it scared the hell out of me.

We tried again for a very short time a year or so later. One or two dates and the connection was there and just as strong. I bolted again. I got married, he had a child. We reconnected one more time while I was deciding if I was leaving my husband for good or not. We saw each other a few days, no true dates, and no sex- just talking.  Once again the connection was overwhelming. And it scared me. I was a married woman feeling the pressure to not fail at the union I had committed to, and yet my heart longed for what I had with W. I could talk with him, laugh with him, be ME, the real me. I saw his mom at this same time and she told me “don't hurt him again” and that’s what I knew would happen. I wasn't in a good place and I would drag him down with me and he deserved so much better than that. So once again I walked away without a goodbye.

I last saw W in 2001. I lost his phone number and never looked for him on the web. I got divorced in 2003. My marriage wasn't one of true love. It wasn't a bad marriage, just not the one I belonged in. My ex-husband is a good man, he’s hardworking and I believe he loved me. He treated me well and gave me all I wanted. Except it wasn't what my heart wanted. He wasn't able to connect with me on the emotional level I so needed. Our marriage ended and I left Texas to go home to Wisconsin. I reconnected with J.K. and that didn't work. I blamed it on being the right guy, wrong time for him and me. Next I got involved with a barfly- an alcoholic. He wasn't a mean drunk, he just liked to drink too much for me. I called it quits with him when the bar life lost its gleam. He was a good boyfriend, he treated me decent, but he didn't give me the romance I longed for.

Next up was a first class, five star asshole. I was with him for two years. Our relationship was full of drama. One minute I was being accused of flirting too much with his friends, the next I was being asked to show them my boobs. I was a show piece to him. But we had our sarcasm and we could laugh. He did a few romantic things, but the intimacy wasn't there. He didn't respect me. I was never the whole package for him. I needed emotional support from him when Tony died and yet that’s when he left me broken hearted and miserable. That relationship was bad from the start and I refused to see it, to acknowledge that it wasn't what I needed. I took the few good parts and held tight to them while trying my best to ignore all the horrible shit. When he kicked me out, I bought my own little house and started down the road of self discovery with a long bout of depression.

Once again I connected with J.K. He would drive up to see me and call when he could. I thought we were going to be able to finally pull it together. I was wrong- he lied to me and left me reeling. After one more failed short term relationship (S), I was single for three years- I lost myself and found the woman I am today. I gave up on love. I honestly felt that finding “The One” wasn’t going to happen and that if I found a man that was half of my dream guy, I'd be okay with settling. I'd just fill the missing parts in with the woman I’d become. I could handle it. I would be okay with settling. I was ready to start dating again, I even signed up for Match.com in Dec of 2013 to see if I could find a good man that way. Let me tell you, not one single guy stood out and now I know why.

One day early in January of this year I sat down and searched for W on Facebook. I found him and my heart did a little skip. Then I noticed his status was “in a relationship” and it floundered, but I sent him a message anyway. I apologized for hurting him, for being a first class bitch to him. I wished I could have told him myself but I figured sending him a message was better than nothing. The response I got in return was so unlike W it cut me deeply and then proceeded to piss me off. He was curt and told me “nothing good could come from looking up an old love on Facebook and it offended him”. I was certainly taken aback and replied that I never met to disrespect him or the life he was in now. I wished him well and let it go. But my heart smarted from such harsh words from him. It wasn’t the W that I knew and had loved.

On Feb 16^th while out to coffee with a dear friend, I got a FB message from W. In it he apologized for being so curt and explained that his now ex-girlfriend had been standing there when my message came through. He said if I wanted to talk, he was there. My grin about split my face in two y'all. I drove home on cloud 9. When I got home I messaged him back and we ended up messaging, texting and then finally talking for 12 hours. It was pure delight. The minute I heard his voice I felt a peace I'd been missing. We swore to each other we'd go slow as our circumstances needed to dictate how we'd proceed. Fast forward two weeks of constant calling, texting and grinning. Enter two angels who knew what we needed and forced us to step up. We are living together now and I couldn't be happier.

As I sit here typing I see something that I wouldn't have if W and I hadn't found each other again. I wasn’t meant for anyone but W. Each relationship I had there was a part that fit me, but the whole wasn't what I needed. I look back and pick out the good of each of my exes: sarcasm and fart jokes from the asshole, looks and strength from J, romance from S, spoiling from ex-husband, lust from the alcoholic and a few others if I'm completely honest.  But not a single one of them was the full package. W is! He’s romantic, affectionate, silly, sarcastic, honest, turns me on with his voice, his smile or his touch and he completes me. We talk about anything and everything. We laugh over the same stupid stuff, he holds me when I need it, gives me space when I need it. We can watch stupid movies together and be content. We can shop with each other and not argue. We can be in public together and he will kiss me without hesitation. We hold hands while driving, touch when in the kitchen together just because. He dances with me while cooking, he snuggles me close at night. I am safe in his arms. I am treasured. I am the most beautiful woman in the world to him. I don't feel inadequate with him. I feel more like myself than I ever have. My smile is genuine and my heart is happy. I am living my fairytale.

We talk about our connection, the power of it- the lasting strength of it, a lot. We discuss our pasts openly and honestly. If I’m sad, all I need to do is be near him and his energy cheers me. When I cry, I don't have to hide my tears- he is there to wipe them away. I pick up on his moods just being in the same house- I feel drawn to him at the oddest times and will go to him. I kiss him and touch him and it’s like our souls recharge each other.  I saw a post Tyrese Gibson made on FB about a twin flame. I did some research on this phenomenon and have talked with W about it. I believe that W and I twin flames. I ran back at age 19 due to the power of our bond and how it scared me. I was the Twin Runner. I am no longer scared by our bond. Instead I am inspired and intrigued by it. I am in awe of how strong my feelings are for W and honestly cannot imagine living one day without him. I've been reunited with my other half and I will treasure him for the rest of my life. I am whole!

W- I thank you for being all that you are, all that you were and all that we will be together. I have faith in our love, our bond. I will always have your back, I will be your shelter in a storm, and I will always be your biggest fan and cheerleader. I am grateful for you. You are my missing puzzle piece. I love you so much more than I can express. To eternity and beyond- Me

**** For more info on twin flames start here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twin_flame