Category Archives: Musica!

Three Months

Dear Mel,

Tomorrow is three months. I miss you SO fucking much. Part of me tells myself that it’s “already” been three months! Get off your ass and get your shit together! The other part says, “It’s only been three months?! Life without you is going to seem like an eternity!

I had to stop writing to you here till I accepted that you are gone. You really aren’t going to call me ever again, I’m never going to hear that, “Hey Girl!” again. There is no mistake, you’re gone. I hate it, but I know it is true.

Remember the only concert we went to? kd lang, the Invincible Summer tour. She sang Hallelujah. We had good seats. It was right before you left for Texas, that God forsaken shit hole that I am convinced, houses Hell. There is one kd song in particular that has become your song. Though you have so many songs, this one really rang true to me this morning, when I was sitting in my car, in the dark, early for work.

I don’t think tomorrow, I want to write about the three months mark. In fact, I wish I could just let the day slide by, but I imagine, or at least I thought so on my drive home, that for a while, the 8th of every month will probably make me think of it, since I am now counting your death in months. At first, it was days, then weeks. One day it will be years. An eternity…life will be that without you.

I’m not so angry at you. I’m still pissed, don’t get me wrong. I always will be, but the love will by far outweigh the anger. I even managed to have a happy memory of you this morning, when I thought of us at the Egyptian getting ready to see kd lang together!

I still see your eyes. Your in the hospital dying eyes. Staring into mine. J asked his dad if he did the right thing not spending lots of time with you. I told him to tell him I think he did. It was his preference to remember you as you were in life. My problem at the moment is that I can’t un-see so many things I saw. I hate that the last time we locked eyes, was the suction debacle in hospice.

I told the lady in the grief session about that. All of it. I said out-loud to another human being that I whispered to you if you didn’t want it to bite down, and you did, and your mom fought you as I held your face in my hands, eyes locked, jaw clamped, breathing heavy, fighting her every step of the way, wanting death on your terms. Do you know what she told me? This grief counselor lady? She told me I honored you, our friendship, your wishes, and I had your back.

It was like she understood what I was trying to do with you as you walked that road. I just wanted you to know how fucking honored I am to have been your friend and soul-mate in life.

We had something a lot of people don’t have. I may have had shit luck with relationships that are romantic, but I fucking nailed it with you. It’s not something that is just an in life thing, because through your death, I have learned and will continue to learn. A lot.

I’m so lucky our last words were that of love. I still hear them.

ME: K girl, it’s 11:30, I’m tired, tomorrow is Christmas, I’ll talk to you then. Goodnight, I love you!

YOU: K Girl, Love you too! Night!




Random Post

Sometimes I just feel like listening to some of the different parts, to the soundtrack of my life…to this point.

This song has always screamed “Him”. It was one of my most favorite songs he ever played for me.

I had a mostly nice weekend. I took some time off and then worked a bit today.

I did mundane things like buy coffee and eggs.

I downloaded Samuel L. Jackson, reading “Go the Fuck to Sleep!” I shall convert it to an MP3, then use it at the beginning of a new sleep CD.

I have a Baby Ruth stashed for later.

I watched Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown, and realized that even after Katrina, I STILL want to go eat in New Orleans.

I’m ready for a new week.



If It’s Happy…

It “aint” bad.

That is why I love tears of joy and happiness.

When they come, I let them flow without trying to stop them.

I let them flow and I fall into the joy. It feels good to cry intense tears of happiness/love/joy.

Before I went crazy, I use to cry a lot. Those tears were not happy. Those tears were draining and soul sucking. All I felt was sadness.

The way I look at it, I couldn’t stop the bad ones, so why should I stop the good ones? They do so much more for me. Yesterday was a joyful tear day. My heart literally sings when I get caught up in so much happiness. There is always a connection to the Universe at these moments. My ability to help orchestrate good is validated.

The very VERY best part of all of this, is that I got here BEFORE I went calling for Him ( I really need to find a suitable blog name for him.) I did this thing on my own. Does he rush me the fuck off the face of the Earth? Oh yeah! But it just makes everything I have already done so much sweeter. He intensifies the things I already know. I do wonder what his reaction will be though the first time he realizes I cry when I am happy. My sad tears used to tear him up because he felt there was nothing he could do. He had to just watch me disappear into my sadness. I imagine the first time he sees it, it will make him uncomfortable, but in the event it happens, he will see a smile and that I don’t go away.

I bloom.

Again, today…I am grateful for the life I am living.


Apparently, Jason Mraz (is prepping)

This man touches my soul.

Freddy Mercury…Thank You

Freddie+Mercury+img461Every time I hear Freddy, I miss my older sister. Sometimes I am not clear if the tears I weep at Freddy are for the non-relationship I have with my sister, or they are the process of mourning the loss of the gift of Freddy.

I think it is the loss of love.

Freddy, as I have learned from listening to him speak, is all about love. Freddy sang about love, because he loved love.

My older sister, was my first best friend. EVER. I loved her, and I still love her today, but we do not speak.

Perhaps the tears that keep falling as I watch all the bio programs on Freddy today, the anniversary of his death are for the loss of the expression of love.

My sister and Freddy are intricately connected in my world, when my sister choreographed a dance to the song Bohemian Rhapsody. She taught it to me. As a child, I spent HOURS with that album. My nose was buried in the lyrics sheet and I would stop whatever I was doing when mom played A Night at The Opera, and curl up on the floor near the heater vent, and read along.

queen_-_a_night_at_the_operaI can’t think of one without the other, and I can’t mourn the loss of one without mourning the loss of the other.

I can rejoice in what Freddy left behind. It will never die. Freddy Mercury will live forever, as long as there is a way to let his songs play.

I don’t have many things tied to my sister that don’t eventually bring a tear to my eye…because of the chasm between us. My hope is that one day, we can love one another again. Not that either one of us has ever stopped…but the space between us has gotten so big, I don’t know if it can ever come together again. Nothing will ever stop the hope.

Not even death has stopped the love of and for Freddy Mercury.

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