Monthly Archives: January 2015

Spinal Cord Infarction (my best friend)

I realized that I haven’t shared this link on my page so I guess it is time to do that.

The GFM is to go to the costs of a service. There is a favorite park of Mel’s. We want to plant a tree, add a bench, and spread (most of) her ashes with the tree.

If you can’t donate, could you please share the go fund me and reblogg this post? You can also go to the NIH page and read about Spinal Cord Infarction. It is a rare stroke to have, and I wouldn’t expect anything less of my best friend. Always an over achiever, and in my heart forever.

Here is Melissa’s Funeral Fund link at GoFundMe.


New Prints Available in Support of Ray’s Brain Tumor Diagnosis…

Ray is a fellow word press blogger and a great artist. Please donate or share.


I couldn’t just get sick, and I couldn’t just grieve. I had to try to do both at once.

I like my new doctor. She listened to me, but then again, she is an ND. I am on antibiotics for infection. I didn’t get the flu, and I didn’t get just a cold. I went and spent 11 days in Texas watching my best friend walk her final road, in the physical world and it took everything and then some out of me. Basically, Mel dying, infected me.

We talked about the concerns I have had for a few years. She is going looking for the results on lab work, from the doctor who did not get back to me with results, when I did try to address a few things. She agrees I am through menopause now and may remove my IUD. She agrees that Armor Thyroid is preferable. She gave me a few other resources for depression and grieving. She did ask me to ask Mr. Y to lock any unlocked guns up, but I’m not going to. We both agreed that this is more situational and though I may never completely get over losing Mel, it is very, very raw right now, and time will ease that somehow.

I go back in next week for follow-up and to address a few things we didn’t get to yesterday.

I am to continue writing. I talked to a friend today who has made a living at writing and got some advice from him. Something is happening.

I am still mourning, but I feel like I am starting to control it, instead of it controlling me.

Sometimes though…it still takes my very breath away that she is gone.

One Month

Today is one month since you had the stroke. Your spinal cord infarction.

I am glad Mr. Yummy is not here today as I woke up thinking of you and your daughter. I miss her and I am worried for her. I wish I could bring her here with me.

I keep hearing myself ask you, “How could you leave them? How could you leave me? How could you have not told me?”

Why did both of us keep saying, we have to see each other? I literally felt an urgent need to see you the last three weeks you were alive before the stroke. The stroke. The stroke. The fucking stroke.

I can not help but think of your kids, as my kids. Part of me knows you would love this, because you know how much I love them. Part of me knows how much you would hate this, because they ARE NOT my children, they are YOURS.

I watched you have at least five miscarriages. I admit to losing count there were so many. I remember getting pissed off at Jim every winter when he was laid off and wouldn’t just wear a fucking condom. There came a point that every time I heard you say, “I’m pregnant”, I’d get angry because I knew most likely, I would be the one grieving with you soon.

I also watched you have four babies, and in those pregnancies, when it became apparent this one would “take” and we would stop worrying as much, I would celebrate with you.

Each of your children is bonded with me in their own unique ways.

DJ, is tied to me by the fact our friendship began with your pregnancy with him, and mine, with The Girl. (Whoa, I haven’t used The Girl in a blog post in years now) We became parents together with our “First” children.

Miscarriage, Miscarriage, JC.

JC, is bonded to me in the fact he and I are the middle kids. He is your second born, just like me. Everything this boy learns, he learns the hard way. He and I are both students of the school of hard knocks. I’ve graduated, he has not.

Miscarriage, Miscarriage, Miscarriage, MLB

I am bonded to your daughter, because of that long talk we had about why you didn’t want girls. “I know what happens to girls when they are little. No fucking thank you!” I cursed you to have and experience a girl. I believed you needed to have and understand those bonds of love between a mother and daughter if you were ever going to heal from the wounds you held so deep involving your mother. You did. You had your little mini me, and uttered to me about five years ago, that having her probably saved your life. You actually said to me that you loved having a daughter and that you had kept her safe. Till she got sick.

Miscarriage, TXR

I bonded to the boy genius, by going through the weirdest, and yet most normal pregnancy with you. After having four months of 3 week periods, with one week off each month, and saying “NO!” to being pregnant…you, Miss Uninsured, finally went to the doctor. You were four months pregnant with twins. One of which, you had been having a miscarriage. Once this finished, you had the most normal pregnancy either of us had ever seen you have. It makes me sad to say I won’t be able to keep the promise I made you of keeping ALL your children in my life, because TXR’s dad doesn’t like me and will not let me see him, but you knew this. We both knew that as Christian as he has become, he hates, and judges me for being your best friend. Because I love you and supported you, and he thought we were lesbian lovers whenever he wasn’t around. One day, he will turn 18 and your other kids will have kept stories of Auntie alive. I bet he will seek me out.

In six hours, it will be one month, to the moment that I got the call. My new years resolution, was that I would have no drama in 2015. Unrealistic in ways, but still a great goal for me. Girl…I bet you’re laughing. The thought of you laughing, makes me cry because my greatest wish is that where you are now, you are full of love and joy, knowing you are without human baggage.


My World

My world has been incredibly rocked by the loss of my best friend. I know there is a part of her with me still. I know she “came to me” that night in my not awake, yet not asleep state. I know that she has moved on to the next phase of energy, yet I am not joyful for her, her kids, myself.

The loss of my only friend, I ever felt true unconditional love from, my friend I saw by my side as we became old ladies, my friend who took all my secrets with her to the grave, was as devastating as they come. When her brother accused me of stealing a ring belonging to her grandmother though, it broke a part of me. I did not sit by my friends side, tell her we were going to remove her life support, figure out a way to communicate to yes and no questions, try to honor her and give her the things SHE needed on her walk to death, to turn around and steal from her. She would be mortified at the accusation, and I understand why she always kept her family separate from her friends, even the family members she deeply loved.

I feel no peace at the loss of her. I do not know how to grieve for her, this is all I can produce:

2015-01-21 11.40.46 2015-01-21 12.00.30 2015-01-21 12.01.17 2015-01-21 12.01.22I can not stop them when they start. They are mostly silent and deep. They make me feel selfish for crying over MY loss.

I know nothing can take away my memories, and the depth of the friendship we had. No one can change that she kissed my lips twice as I sat by her bed. Nothing can change the knowledge I received from her that she still needed that human interaction and touch or the gifts I was able to help she and her daughter share when I told her that she would kiss her back, she needs that love.

Yet I have no joy. I have no experience in losing my best friend, my soul-mate, or the love of my life. See I could tell her that and she knew what I meant. She knew there was no lust or sexual intentions, just the simple fact that I loved her ever so deeply. I would have given up everything and everyone I have to bring her back to health and life. She knew this. I almost felt no guilt telling her I would let go of Mr. Yummy if it would give her back to life. She cried.

I am lucky I was afforded the ten days to sit by her side, tell her every last thing I could think of telling her, making sure she knew I was with her, supporting her, loving her and knowing she needed to convey how sorry she was, to her daughter, assisting in her telling her mini me, she was sorry for things that will be left unsaid here. Maybe some day I will go public with certain things, but that will come, I suspect, as I heal.

I am a better person, for having her in my life and I know some day, we will find one another again when I walk my road and return to my true state. The thing is figuring out how to return to living my life with the intent and purpose I had before this horrible, horrible thing happened.

Mr Yummy had to go to the very state she just died in, the very state my crazy ndn war vet lived and died in, it wasn’t easy taking him to the airport and sending him to the place I found to be hell, because it’s taken my two most loved friends. It hasn’t been easy not giving into my desire to just cling to him and asking him to make it better. I’ve been there with him before. I have also learned to recognize the ways he silently tells me he is there for me, to remind me about living. I am grateful for that and do not want to repeat my past with him, when it comes to involving him in my loss.

I don’t know if it was the air travel, the total burn out, the total emotional exhaustion, but I have been sick for the last week and Monday…I’m going to the doctor. I’m not going to do what she did. I am not going to put off till it kills me, what I can start dealing with today. No more burying my health in the sand, hoping if I ignore it, it will go away. I do not just mean this cold/walking pneumonia but, the “other” things that have been plaguing me for a few years.

I miss you, My Love and always will as long as I live in this body, but I promise, living is what I plan on doing. Thank you for the amazing and loyal friendship you gave to ME, of all people, while your hugeness inhabited that tiny little frame, known as my best friend, Mel.

Oh yeah, one thing I know, even though I am sad, the candles that people order that I touched in this state of mourning, were packed by a woman crying tears of absolute love. You will be lucky to burn them.

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