Blogging Reluctantly

Our Life. Our Memories. My point of view on both. Captured here.

Death August 11, 2010

Filed under: I hate it. — bloggingreluctantly @ 7:31 pm
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I haven’t covered my losses much on this blog, I have on my other now defunct blog,  because I can’t sign in I won’t direct people to it because I can’t moderate my comments soooo let’s just start over here…shall we!  The subject of death is intrinsically connected to me and who I am now.  It has shaped me, changed me, not always for the better.  Honestly it changed me for the worse a couple of times.  I’m more scared, and more unsteady than I ever was prior to the debilitating losses I’ve suffered.  I also learned a whole lot about my fellow humans through the losses.  That also made me harder. 

Regardless of what has happened in the past, death when “it” comes to your door will always “always” catch you off guard.  I have been widowed, I was a young widow, with small kids.  I loved someone very much who killed himself, less than 2 years after my first husband died of cancer.  My sister died suddenly and without warning, my first love died tragically in a car crash, and I’ve lost a child.  I know death.  I know my way to the bottom of a kleenex box.  I don’t say this to try to invoke some sort of pity response out of you, quite the opposite.  I f’ing hate pity.  Don’t pity me, ever.   I don’t pity myself.  I might have a weak moment where I think life just blows, but don’t we all? 

This week, death came to my door again.  Twice.  I wasn’t ready, I was on a bike ride when the calls started to come into our safe little home.  I was working out, I was thinking of my beautiful Addie / B.Boy Wilson, dreaming of the blonde curls and blue eyes he or she will have.  I was not thinking that my first born’s heart was breaking as she learned that a man she cared for deeply drowned during a heart attack.  I wasn’t ready for her sobbing, and I didn’t have the words to use to help her.  I just cried on the phone with her.  When I got off the phone I babbled on and on and on to hubs about how this drags up everything from the past, because it does.  Every time we lose someone, it brings me back to 6.6.02, 8.24.03, 8.1.05, 10.30.08.  That same shocky feeling comes back.  I hate it.  I hate it so much because I know that my daughter just added another date to her list of really bad days.  It sucks.

The second knock on the door was the message that one of my former classmates from high school had died.  He was so gorgeous in H.S. O.M.G. I can still see him like it were yesterday, just handsome.  He was tall, blonde, etc…and his locker was always close to mine because our last names weren’t far apart in the alphabet.   I hadn’t seen him in years, I don’t know if he even looked the same, but either way my heart breaks for his family.  If he had children they just added a date to their list of horrible days that hurt so much to think about. 

I’m not naive, I know we all die.  I know I will die.  Could be tomorrow, could be 20 years from now, either way we all will make our exit.  What shocks me is the number of very young people who I knew that have died.  I don’t remember my parents losing friend one after the next while growing up…and they were hardcore drinking bikers? Seriously you’d think it would be the other way around. Sometimes it seems like the only blessings that have come from losing so many people I loved is that I am not scared to die.  I don’t want to, I’m certainly not looking forward to it….but if something happens. I’ll be okay.  I believe what I believe, I believe that there is life after this.  I believe that our spirits do not rot in the ground, we go on, to be with the father.  I know that I’ll see my first husband again.  I hope like hell he’s rocking some tupac when I get there, I pray he’s got the Diet Coke chilling for me and that my sister is there being beautiful.  I pray that my ex is whole, and well, and is finally the beautiful person he always wanted to be, and I know damn well that my Bob is up there corrdinating something, laughing and hugging everyone.

I woke up this morning at 3:00 a.m. violently ill.  I think that a lot of it had to do with the day before.  The pain, the shock, the upset.  It is all to close to very sad days for me.  Despite my mantra of “Remain Calm and Carry On” I guess my subconscious mind had other ideas.


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