Picking up the pieces

Today is June 20, 2018. 

A full 7 months later I am returning to writing.

 I stopped. 

Everything Stopped. 

My life as I knew it just stopped.

I guess I should explain...

A lot has happened. 

The day after I wrote that last blog (11/07/17) my younger brother died.

Michael S. Bean
July 26, 1977- November 8, 2017

Mike was in the hospital from June 30 from a having a stroke. The hospital took a few days in determining treatment and he had another massive stroke that took out his left side of his body and communication skills. He continued to fight and try to breathe and learn to communicate again and simple things like learning how to swallow again. His spouse was absolute trash and while I have sympathy and possibly empathy for loosing a spouse, there are some rather fucked up things she said and did thruout the whole damn process. I have text messages from him saying that she is trying to starve him and does not care about him and just things that contributed to this. Note: I cannot blame anyone for anything- his life choices (i.e spouse choices and health choices and etc) are/ were his and I own that. I had a different perception of what a loving partner brings to the table (inclusive of health insurance and common sense and food in the house or general partnership and caring for each other - maybe I'm way off which is why...) so with that being said in the hospital they amputated his left leg and he never recovered from alot of things (falling out the bed- some terrible health care and decision making- altho there were some angels in there and for that I am grateful.)

The call came at 5 am on that Wednesday morning and immediately I went into fixing it mode. What did I have to do to lay my brother to rest, to make sure his legacy and memory is honored and to just let him be at peace. This is the prayer and guiding principles to the actions I take- let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.. song from church. My friends/ family (TD, Sparkles, Sunshine, other brothers, Bermuda family) were phenomenal. I can't begin to say all the ways they supported Bro #1 & I but they did. We had a service for him the following week. His co-workers showed up for him- he touched so many people in life it is astonishing. I hope he knew how much he was loved. I wish he knew how much he is missed and how much of an impact he had and has on people. I still tear up thinking about my little brother (case in point as I type this) but I hope he know just how much he meant to me. He is brilliant. I read the eulogy. I made it thru without tears. And then, we pick up the pieces. 

We cleared his stuff out her apartment per her request in December and from that point on I have had 2 text messages from her. No, she is not getting his ashes- that is a blog for another day--- but all this was stressing and highly debilitating to me- a person who is functioning barely at a productive level. 

And this is topping off the passing of two of the matriarchs of my family:

Marie E. Tuzo Bean Lodge
June 2016

'Granny' as she was know to me all my damn life passed June 2016. She was in the hospital for what seemed like a chest cold, pneumonia or what turned out to be potentially lung cancer. She was vibrant and 'rude' until the end. I flew to Bermuda to see her off which was traumatic as I am in the country of my father's birth representing this extension of the family- alone- but surrounded by so much family. This woman was heroic and iconic in more ways than can be listed and I felt this was my connection to my Dad. The last. Luckily I have amazing cousins and 2 Aunties and an Uncle left (out of 10 children) that keep me in the loop. Her passing was really hard on me and just coping and living without her Bermudian accent and wise words that were imparted randomly truly affected me. Sorely missed always in my heart. 

Eleanor M. Anderson
May, 2017

Grandma Anderson passed May, 2017. Devastating. She fought a long battle with cancer and was not herself towards the end. She was having seizures and while her mind was amazingly sharper than anyone I know, her body just couldn't hold on any more. What gets me is that of course she planned her own funeral (years ago she was telling Eileen & I where important papers were and where things were and wrote her eulogy. Always prepared- I don't know if she was a girl scout). Her passing was disastrous in just so many ways. Yes as with everyone I am thankful she was not suffering but I know we (as in all of the people she touched) were not ready to let go. 

With all this, dealing with Bro#1 and his living situation and how this loss of his brother would affect his overall well being- I felt as if I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He is currently in a shelter and this is in and of itself heartbreaking and what am I supposed to do? 

the last pic of the three

How can I just... I just don't know. We were 3. ALWAYS.  We legit balanced each other out with just the right amount of ratchet and educatedness. My two bothers literally are the angel/ devil of consciousness that guide me at times. How can a person just let that go? It is more than a loss... it is shattering to the soul. Something that I know is not repaired yet. 

Thru all this, I was navigating how to translate my work with Financial Education into something that was more fulfilling and an actual position and how I can solidify my next career moves. I presented at my jobs student affairs conference in February and then presented on Financial Education in June with my boss. That was something that was eye opening for me in the realm of possibilities for advancement and overall worth. 

So with all the things that happened to me (around me/ with me/ about me/ outside of me) the last 2 years, I feel that after a while I became numb to everything. Going thru the motions and just surviving. Not living altho I gave a great perception of 'living my best life' while trying to 'live my life like its golden' I was just there. 

Here. 

Not feeling anything but sadness. 

I could not write tho I had so many things to say. 

I could not believe because what is there to believe in - how and who do I ask this to?

Can I say Prayer helps. 

Breathing helps. 

And as of now, I am just finding my strength to be 

alive

again

picking up all the pieces 

and painstakingly putting them back into place. 

never to be the same again 

but tying to be beautiful

and whole

again. 

Step one:

GOD.

that's all

visiting hours

Since I am on vacation, I decided to go visit my father's grave in the cemetery. I know i am the only one that come out here when i do because 1- the brothers do not have a car 2- it is not a priority to take public transportation for them ever so 3- if i do not drive them they do not come here. 

Anywho- life goes on and I do what I do. 

This headstone of my father which took 23 years to purchase after a few attempts and disagreements with the family is a sight. It is emotional for me to look at his name etched in stone, conspicuous hyphen in between birth and death date. 

It is heavy. 

Beautiful

but heavy.

The next tombstone visited is where Grandma lay.

Anderson. 

May she rest eternally there. 

It is too soon for the inscription to happen. 

But she is there. 

coffee thought...

coffee thought...

Here I am again.
Both brothers in the hospital dealing with amputation and sanity in their forms of illnesses that have been manifesting over the years
and
here I am trying not to be the visiting nurse service because my mentals cannot take this.
My sanity cannot handle this.
I seriously think they coordinate this bi-monthly series of visits and short to long stays in the hospitals and mental institutions respectively out of a lack of anything else to do
or
 just cause it's Tuesday
or
just cause some days they may be bored.
I know that sounds cruel and i am quite possibly writing this out of some anger or upsetness or some not right thinking in my head.
But- as of right now,  I am seriously not this strong black woman that I have been for upwards of three decades now.
It is tiresome-
And I am tired. I am exhausted. I am beat.
I am also just not sure how much more I am supposed to give when I legitimately have nothing left. Maybe if I had a stronger heart or stronger soul or a stronger mind I could do this.
Alone.
 Like I have been.
And in all my aloneness I have dealt with many an issue.
But now, at this time. I can not. I will not. I shall not.
I have to take care of me right this minute because my care of me cannot be entrusted to anyone else- I mean who else is there for me?
And if I do not choose me, then why on earth would...
At any rate, I know my faith in the Lord has carried me and will continue to do so.
That is all I got.
But even the Lord got a day of rest.
Even the Lord wants us to take care of ourselves and all that jazz. 

Cause I am not the one for this foolishness.

And call me selfish.
Call me making this about me.
Call me not being a good sister, friend, granddaughter, whatever.
Call me anything anyone wants to call me.
But don't call me for that shit.
that's all...

Family

Family...Is the cause of joy and equal amounts of heartache and pain and my family in particular is one hell of a peoples.

For the past 2 weeks I have been dealing with my siblings in the hospital- one with congestive heart failure and one with the mental issues that have plagued him and I am trying trying trying to just breathe
I am trying (and feeling like I am failing) at being the good sister to them both because what does that even look like? I mean I am sympathetic and empathetic and am worrying about the well being of both of them and I am trying to coordinate care and information sharing between the two and don't even get me started on the 'fiancée ' or whatever that is because welcome- you want the title well here is the responsibility and all that comes along with that partnership. I mean some days I feel for her and wonder what she got herself into and other days I am like 6 years in hey step it up, right?
And the other one that wants what he wants (ex/ his apartment) and the detrimental issues that come along with that.
What is this sister to do?
I pray and call and visit (although truthful I have not been to the mental hospital because I may want to stay myself ) thru all I am going thru with work and friends and feelings and

EMOTIONS AND ALONENESS.

Yes. In all caps. Bold. 28 font. All that.

I selfishly want someone here for me to comfort me and support me thru these trials- hell I have been the major support for the majority of the folks in my life yet when it comes to me- here I am. I don't know how much longer I can do this - superwoman and strong blackwoman facade because talk about impostor syndrome.
And all I want to do is cry but physically I'm not able to do that because I can't
And I can't
And I can't have these thoughts of not getting up and just staying where I am and not doing
Cause I am not allowed to be the one that needs help and I am not the one who is allowed to ask for anything for me from anyone I am the one who has to figure it out- for myself and for everyone else around me and I am the one who has to be responsible and be... Together
But separate
Funny.
Family... The family that could or would be there to support or whatever thru this is no where to be found- at the first sign of disruption to the wonderful image presented dropped like flies. Which I mean is great since you get a sense of where people stand with you, right?
So, you also get a clear picture that the sacrifices and things you did for others is NOT anything that can be reciprocated for me.
Remember that
And you know at the time I was sacrificing my time and presence and things for folks I was not doing that for anyone or any thoughts or anything it was just something that needed to be done and I did it. Others was out and about living their life and I was there. I was present.
I
I was a damned fool.
But hey, one life to live and lesson learned.
Too bad tho
I would have enjoyed my life too ya know
But I digress
And here I stand- balancing precariously the health and decisions (the sisterly ones) I can make for one brother while doing the same for the other.
And I want my mother and father here- selfishly for me
Selfishness is a great trait of mine.
Because I tend to want what I want when I want it (of course working for it) and yet, always keeping in mind the fairness of it all
But selfishly wanting them to say

Hey, you doing alright baby

You are good (enough)

You are worthy of love even...

You are beautiful

And you are ... Ok

But
Those are words I will never hear from their lips again
And my solace (like a broken record) is the fact that she is no longer in pain
And my strength is (was) the things I thought I could do
But realizing
I am not special
And I am not capable
And I am just faking the funk
Just waking up
Here
Not even present
Just here
Again

Sometimes I feel...

So today is 'daughters day' and people over Facebook are wishing other people on Facebook Happy Daughters Day. And that's great and all if you have a daughter.  And it is equally great and all if you have a parent that recognized such things. But what if you are a daughter who unfortunately has no one to wish you a happy daughters day-  then what does that make you?

What does that make me?

And not for nothing, these contrived pseudo days we celebrate that are put into the psyche of society really do more harm than good [I'm looking at you specifically Valentine's Day] causing a whole heap of negative emotions and wild thoughts of worthiness and worthlessness at the same damn time. Them some two bad bitches.

Anywho...
Just thought I put it out there
Happy Daughters Day to the daughter I don't have (...)
and happy daughters day to the daughter I hope I was.

Bda bike

Just a quick few seconds on the back of the bike in Bermuda with my cousin D.

We were heading from the 24th of May end to end runners to get ready to see the parade.

Let me tell you something, having not been on a bike in years this was fun.

I can only image having to do this every day (but for me the awe in it is the pretty pink houses and the colors and the touristy feel I get to be since I am not in control here)

anywho, family.

just love

Today is not just another day

I mean as in it is a Tuesday. It is a work day. It is a day. It is also a date I remember to have changed my life- literally 29 years ago. I don't know how appropriate it is to celebrate a death or passing-- more so I want to acknowledge that it happened
What type of person would i have become?
What kind of person am I? I like to hold on to these ideals and memories that were my daddy- the things I can plainly remember. I kind of think of the things that I possibly made up in my head- was there really a Heineken incident? the thoughts I have of my father and his love or his presence is ever present and I guess a part of me. But are you sure?
Long ago, people used to say I reminded them of my dad- I guess facial features or complexion or just demeanor? I took pride in that - that i was/ am a part of something. It made me feel less like someone who has nothing or no one in this world. I know my mom said some things sometime- that voice silenced by cancer 7 years ago.
What am I trying to say here?
That who I am apparently is tied to what happened this day and while I can say this does not define me it is a part of me- not apart of me.
Anyway, what one thing has one definition?

On another note, one of my friends is going thru something difficult with their parent at this juncture and it is amazing to see what children will do for their parents. I tell you love is definitely something.

Fwd: Dance

As I sit here listening to this song-

Dance with My Father (Luther Vandross) and I think about dancing- wheather it is doing the wobble or some other break it down move that comes out this day and age, I also think back (or forward) to the more acceptable dances that we as a society perform out there...and dancing with my father.

I am random in the thoughts that plague me at random times- mother thoughts some nights, father thoughts other night, random other folks thought random other nights, and i think (HA!) have I ever danced with my father? Is this something that ever happened in my lifetime? Is this something that I remember (or should remember?) Is this some fantasy that I dreamt? Is this something that daughters & sons should do- regularly- and dance with their parents because...
So every time I hear this song, from when it came out I always identified with the 'I would do anything to dance with my father again' sentiment because, let's face it, there are things that I wish I could do (or did) and having a silly little dance seems like one of them.
I think i remember that we kinda sorta danced in the street one time *or maybe this is some damned wishful thinking I have* and remembering that he held my hand...maybe...

the thing about cake...

the thing about cake is that it is definitely something
I love to love to have
and will seek to have cake for numerous of reasons-
or no reasons at all.
Well, today would be a reason to have cake-
celebrating the birth of my daddy (April 8)
and he would have been 70 years old today.
I know he had a thing for chocolate
(or maybe had that thing cause I used to want chocolate- some things never change)
and I remember just daddy.
He was the epitome of man for me
(no there are no daddy issues here, thanks)
but what I was explaining this weekend was that
witnessing the love between my mom and dad
(and the arguments, and the care, and the struggle, and the fun times, and the laughter, and the togetherness, and the love, and the love, and the love)
makes me think:

WOW. This happened.
Love happened.
Love is real.
Love is possible.
Love is work.
Love is authentic.
Love is consistent.
Love is constant.
Love is amazing.
Love is just...
Love is something that I want.

So yeah, with that held firmly in my heart, I kind of know what love is (and then the experiences I have experienced) that were nearly love- more like eh-this-is-something kind of way.
And I have faith...in love.

Thanks Dad, Happy Birthday. R.I.P

Happy New Year--kinda late...

Happy New year!
I mean I am 7 days into 2014 and 2 days back to work so that is a plus.
A plus because work was closed due to the ridiculous amounts of snow experienced in the NYC area...
(sigh)
I need to move to Bermuda stat...
anywho
What has happened in the previous days of my non blogging self?
Well, mostly just figuring out some things about myself for myself AND watching a bunch of movies (crash, a wonderful life, Mandela, horror stuff) had a great time at a NYE party at TD house (#nobehaviorcrew) and then a good chill session.
Today.
It seems like chef has had a relapse and has checked himself into 'the place'. What is troubling  (not only about 'the place') is that we (his other sibling + me + his other aka girlfriend) had a real conversation session on Sunday about their relationship and the parameters in which they show love.

Side note:

why is it folks come to me with their relationship issues?

me the currently non relationship having one?

me, also the one who is looking for love but coming up empty.

me, the one who also know what is not acceptable/

what is a deal breaker

and what is not tolerable.

eh.

I guess it's me.

It wasn't working (the conversation and space between them) and proceeded to make everyone involved some tea (hey, I'm part British and it soothes the soul) I chatted with them some more and tried to determine their intentions--- hell, everyones intentions for that matter---and clarify those intentions and actions toward each other that they do to get to their love.
Also wanted them to communicate better and make things work (that's just me, but that aint my business)...but at that time , could tell bro had checked out of this part of reality and was entering his world.
What does this mean?
Well, being back in the hospital means he has access to folks he can talk to to probably help better get situated to the things that are going on.
It also means he recognizes when he is in need and that is better than being forceably placed.
He also said that they appreciated the chat with me and I know what I am doing.
I guess...
I hope.

Update 1/21/14: bro is out and doing fine. a little reset button never hurt no one.

Are you...

Are you still a daughter a daughter even tho you don't have a mother or father anymore?

Random questions asked of myself...

Sent from my iPhone

Everything

Everything.
Happens.
It is surprising (still) to see how the universe brings people together and how small the actual world is.
What brings folks together is shared experiences and life in general and sometimes I am amazed at how random it is and not random at all this all is.
So if you remember last year this time I was preparing to go to St. Thomas USVI to go witness the lovely wedding of my two friends. Well, i mentioned the experience I had flying out from Miami and how there was a service for this fallen police officer. Moving experience.
Fast forward to me training/ part of the expanded role of what I am doing (waiting for the expanded $$ but then I would be waiting forever) and we have interns- one of which I interviewed in March at our higher ed recruitment day. Here we are: 3 weeks into training and he tells me a story about this is coming up on the one year anniversary of his fathers death [no, I don't know how we got on that and no I don't know what it is about that moment that made him share] but he mentioned that his fathers body had to be flown back from Florida to St. Thomas for the funeral. I was like literally getting chills because what a stranger coincidence, right?

 I dig back on my blog and I happened to name the fallen officer-

and sitting right in front of me is his namesake son.

Talk about wow.
Talk about WOW.
So is it a coincidence that I saw that last year and prayed for them all in the way I pray for all those who loose someone (cause I know about that specific loss of a father and a mother first hand)
Is it a coincidence that he applied to NYU and was interviewed and hired by me and now I am training him?

Eh, life has not many coincidences

and is full of happenstance.

This is just one.

Sent from my iPhone

coffee thought...

Chilling at lunch.

 Currently somewhere in the ocean.

On my way back from a glorious time in Bermuda

and visiting my family.

The trip was muy short but very inclusive-

went to horseshoe beach.

Visited my granny.

 Saw aunts,

 cousins,

uncle,

 more cousins

and went to st. George's and took some pictures.

 I was having such a good time with the family

that we almost missed the boat

(sparkles and I)

  Luckily by God's grace we were the last 2 on and the boat didn't leave us.

Hey- everyone needs an adventure and part of me must have really really wanted to stay.

foot in the pink sand

I always wanted a pic in the telly booth

me & the gombeydancer

<3 p=""> 

Love love love my family ;)

Coffee thought...

It's cup match time!!! A time in the lovely land of Bermuda that everything shuts down and there is nothing but party fun and rivalry. The 'purpose of cup math is to celebrate the emancipation of the slaves there and elsewhere (8-1) so this particular type of ribaldry . . Is welcomed. Now a few things happen. There is this crown and anchor game (google that) that I have no idea how to play- but I think there is gambling involved. Also, the teams (Somerset vs St. George's) represent either cricket club in the island. There are wickets involved. And whites. And running in dirt. And bowling and a batter. That is the extent Of my cricket knowledge. Oh- the colors of the teams I know- st. George's is baby blue and navy blue and somerset is red and navy blue. You can guess which team I am rooting for...

Another wonderful event that happens on the rock for the past 7 years running is soca vs reggae which is a widely popular show (thrown by a cousin and his team) where they definitely put on a great great show. Artiste show and they proceed to battle on the beach. Team soda won this year.
Anywho, the weekend events include non mariners race (saturday) which is hilarious and fun to watch. Literally non-mariners (those without boats) jimmy together anything that may float and race. It is hilarious and all around comrade for the people of the island.
Gotta love island life

For me, past weened started with laundry on a friday night. Someone had to do it- so there i am. also, i got to experience a bit of Bermuda, as one of my cousins and her mom (my Auntie) came to NY to shop and do some business. Now if there is one thing bermuda folks know how to do is SHOP-- apparently it is in my blood. They are professional to the utmost and listening to the conversation and accent makes me think of my Dad and wondering if their family interaction is anything like the craziness that us 3 NY beans have.
Today i chilled. Had to recuperate from life.
Back to the grind on Tuesday.... Working till 8.
NY Beans- not sure if this is the life I signed up for...

testing...testing...really??

Jan 13, 2013 9:48 pm Sunday

"You are being tested and being tested only makes you stronger"
"I don't think it's working for me." -Edith- Downton Abbey

There is something about this sentiment that resonates with me. There are more than a few times when I think whatever THIS is- THIS is not working. There are times that I feel that "this is only a test- if this had been an actual emergency..." then what?
Would my life have been 'over' or would my life just begin?
I don't know.
But right about now the words that are meant to comfort a 'jilted at the alter fake spinster' are not at all comforting for a 'never been to my alter/ don't think there is an alter in the cards for me' real live spinster.

that's all..

Oh and definitely thinking/ reminiscing/ knowing the 27 years my dad has been gone is something that still no words can cover.

GW Bridge

random:

today, 80 years ago the GW bridge was opened to traffic connecting NY & NJ and making the start of major commutability (my word). One random night, Bro#2 & I were watching some documentary on the making of the bridge and basically reasons why they design is what it is. Something about crossing this bridge to NJ to me means 'Road Trip'. As a kid anytime we were headed that way (south I-95) it meant adventure, intrigue and mommy or daddy driving.
Let's also take a look at the days we (dad & us) used to take mom to work at her K-Mart corporation job in North Bergen NJ. Typically in the summer time, on the Thursdays bi-weekly when she got paid, we would take her to work for her 4pm-12am shift. From there, the family would hit up either Roy Rogers or White Castle and some random rock park in NJ [not too far from Berginline Ave ] where we would run, eat and play. Then around 7:30-8pm mom would come out and we would drive her to the bank in NJ to cash her check [yes apparently we were living check to her check], eat some food and drop he back off. Sometimes we would wait around until midnight (what did we do for 4 more hours?) and then Dad would pick mom up and we would drive home. Coming home across the George Washington Bridge at night with all the lights and cars with the original old time yellow license plates meant 'I am going home'. I know exactly how long it should take to get from the GW to Jerome Avenue (sans traffic and any additional construction on roads that seem to never get fixed). I know various shortcuts to take me to my home from any point off the bridge (try me!/ thanks mom).
Later, after Dad passed crossing the GW meant going up towards 'our new home'- Spring Valley NY. Something about a place called Spring Valley was an oxymoron to the arrival of 3 kids from the South Bronx (word.) Once I was able to figure out a bus schedule back to the city *red and tan lines* by the time the bus was crossing the bridge back to Washington Heights NY the excitement of being back on the block was palpable. At that time I put back on the mask I wear to make it on the MTA buses to Grandmas house I go (and the pollution/ violence/ ass foolery Mommy tried to remove us from--here I am willingly spending my hard earned money to go back to. Ahh the youth is wasted on the youth someone once said...) still something about that said 'I am going home'.
Fast forward even later on in life Moi finally being able to drive that bridge myself really really really was an accomplishment (complete with prayer) that I never thought I would be able to do.  Once I was driving myself, really the road trips began in earnest (Philly, VA, AC, NJ, Boston, CT etc)- that was excitement in the fast lane for true...
ahh the memories...So congratulations to the GW for making it to 80 yrs. Let's gear up for the next 80 and the many more road excursions to come.

Happy Father's Day Dad!

sharing a pic of my mom and dad dancing circa 70's....
 and a poem I wrote for him from my first book...

What to do when I am missing you?

I am in search of something

that can bring me closer

To you

i am in need of an identity

that can make me

ME

i try to classify myself as

part of something

that I know I never really knew

and all I really ever want

is to be closer to you.

I am trying to hold back tears

that have plagued me for the past 21 years

trying to believe

“this too shall pass”,

and even with my current accomplishments

i still feel sad

because in truth

i am still missing you

My Dad.

and I just want to know

so many things…

like, have i made you proud?

do you ever cry?

do you sing with angels

in the night sky?

i sometimes hear your voice

in my thoughts

your presence

in my words

and I can almost remember

you being

YOU.

so, i just want to be sure

that you are all right

and I just want to know

what to do

when I am missing you?

it's been 25 years

Dear Dad,
Hi. how are you??
hopefully everything is good up there. (well, as good as death can be) I safely believe you are up there cause well that is what i choose to believe. You know, it's been 25 years since you died. Imagine that? 25 years... does this make it your silver anniversary? Eh, probably the wrong terminology to be used but you get the point. 25 years without you here is a long time. I am still me, a little more grown but still me. hopefully you are proud of me in some way shape or form and hopefully i continue to make ya proud. well, I'll let you get back to doing what ya do, and yeah lots of love.

me

November 29 8:59 am

November 29 8:59 am
Trying to recover from the interesting holiday that was my thanksgiving. I got out of work early on Wednesday (early being 4 pm) and got a ride home with Noc. It is very cool driving in NYC traffic at semi rush hour the day before a holiday since you get to see all the sights, sounds, and crazies. We picked up his moms who has a strange admiration for nicki minaj (LOL scary) and then it was off to go home where I had to go spend another $55 on food. Mel owes me like $15 on that one...Mike owes for some cereal and stuff as well. [Mental note I am desperately tired of being the automatic teller machine with the money cause it seems it is automatically Tasha's money...yes I stole that from Soul Food but considering how this is about food and we have soul...]
Anywho my friend "jem" was coming over and I have yet to clean or begin cooking.
Yet to clean.
Yet to start cleaning.
Yet to physically wrap my hands around a mop/ broom or garbage bag.
Finally I get home and just am in awe of my house situation (many of clothes have no home to reside in and feel the need to take root on my couch at all times) and the lot of papers that are on the floor in actual need of a filing place is amazing. Well she came over in a tizzy and in order for her to begin to relax she starts to clean and clean she does. We were up to 4 am cleaning/ straightening/ talking/ asthma-attacking cause of the layer of dust I disturbed and then she stayed up past 4 am when my mind/body/soul could take no more --she was cleaning some more. In the morning I awoke to my coffee brewing (I learned how to set the timer on my coffee maker and OOOH weee I love it) and at that time "Jem" got to the kitchen- yes I have a kitchen thank you very much. Hell, once upon a time there used to be many a throw-down in there with good food produced et al. After a few hours of cooking and watching the parade (which is a tradition that I still do) I started to cooking the famous carrot cake with grand mariner, cornbread stuffing, wild rice, brussels, sweet potato pie, hour de vours, etc. It was alot to begin with and then quickly became too much as she cooked a ham, more hours de vours, Mel cooked roast beef and turkey and some sides. Mike made his extra secy cranberry sauce and folks came over to eat. His GF was there (-_-) and TRS came by with some throwback cookies from my childhood (YUMMY) and kiddies from downstairs came thru to grab some food and truly I dad a tremendous blast. My friend D came then & Noc ran thru at the end just to chill...these are times I love the family, definitely miss mommy as she would have had a grand ole time watching us and eating and laughing. My father would have just had everything on point with the cooking and the joyousness that he is.
Sigh...
Something I do is make everyone say what they were thankful for (yeah I know) and really I am thankful for my life- in all that it is and all that I want it to be I am thankful I can do whatever. I am thankful for my family (and all the crazy that it is) my friends (and all the crazy that it is) and the world keeps going...
that's all for now...

4-5-10

i purposefully did not post on 4-5-10.
that day i spent thinking remembering and in perpetual movement still doing what needs to be done.
I still miss her. I miss my mother.
and so with that i made the final payment on my fathers' headstone/ grave-marker. somehow putting a marker/ headstone there serves as a physical reminder that
"someone was here".
He was here, he lived. MY father was more than just the figment of my imagination.
Putting that there on that particular day helps me know that 'something' was accomplished from moms' will or wishes...something that she always wanted to do was done.
So what do I do next?
Live.. and never forget.