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You took the desire to write with you.

I mean, initially I was writing my way through grief. It’s the only real coping skill I had at a time the world couldn’t handle my grief. They think it was hard for them to be around? They should have walked in my shoes for a bit.

To be clear, it’s been no mother fucking picnick.

This last weekend I woke up early on Saturday. I cried for over two hours about you being DEAD. I cried all through out the day and then again Sunday morning.

I “can’t” watch grief themed shows, but it’s what I am drawn to, because there is truth ingrained in “art” and performance. There’s a solace in having a brief, “Someone gets it!” moment, because no one really gets it except your kids. They should be coming TO ME, not me to THEM, so I try not to let them see the worst of it for me. I think we are all protecting one another from our grief. Mik lets me see the most and she is like you. Self preserving.

Saturday morning I went to work for my friend Dan, helping him clean bachelor-cobwebs and he asked me if I wanted Mel’s old antique espresso pot? He feels like it’s time for him to let go of some of her things. I asked him how far out he is from the death of his Mel?

5 years.

I told him how odd it was that… “Here I am 3 years and 19 days out (as of last Saturday) from your death and I woke at 1:30 and cried for two hours. Full of sadness and anger. I still feel shocked, because I was supposed to die first!” He just got quiet and said that the third year was harder than the second. 3 years and 21 days passed your death, I believe him.

Mik is missing TXR So badly. She makes Facebook posts to him periodically. This morning I realized he lost two mamas when you died, because we both know how hands on Mik was with her baby brother. My hope is when he’s an adult and finds her and the boys, he will find a huge missing part of you.

I’ve text D to ask when his brother plans on letting your children see their brother. I can’t stand Mik’s tears, but we both know baby daddy hates me and will never deal with me…being he’s so Christian and forgiving of things I have never done to him.

I miss you.


Saturday Mornings


Sometimes, Saturday and Sunday are the hardest mornings of the week. These are the mornings we power phoned, after she moved to Texas in 2008.

Not many weekend mornings go by without me getting a little emotional because two years and three months later, I still want to pick up the phone and call Mel. I wind up reflecting, remembering, reliving the woman and my time with her.

It was more than just drugs that weakened her body to the point of, at 46, having a massive spinal cord infarction AKA a stroke in her spinal cord.

Mel had three children with her husband and after they divorced, she had a fourth with someone else. Of her first three kids, her youngest had major health issues. It started when she was 6 or 7. She would get severely sick, winding up with pneumonia. They spent a lot of time at Children’s Hospital. Tests were done for Leukemia, AIDS, and I don’t know how many others and always, no idea what the illness was that was causing Necrotizing Granuloma in her lungs. The CDC and NIH took samples and ran tests, it didn’t show anything micro or micra. In the lab, no one could solve wtf was wrong. It was noted that winters in Washington were not good for her daughter.

The illness was treated with chemo drugs, though she did not have cancer.  Mel’s bank accounts, savings accounts and credit cards all went to the medical bills of her daughter, which reached astronomical proportions. I watched my friend go from comfortable and able to financially care for all her children with or without child support or emotional support from her former spouse, to having nothing. Her land where she was going to build was gone, her rentals were gone, her job was gone, and she had very little support.

It was the health of her daughter in the winters here, that took them away from me to Texas. I thought I would die. For almost 25 years, I had never been more than a 30 minute drive from her. I’d never been unable to contact her by phone whenever I wanted except for the two summers I was in Alaska.

A good thing did happen in Texas. Her daughter stopped getting “winter sick” (my term). Her lungs stopped dying and as she grew older, the percentage of damage area lessened. Of course, all the drugs she was on for an unknown illness, created other issues. Arthritis, IBS, and Crohns are things she lives with. At the time of her death, three of her children were with her in Texas and one was here with her ex husband.

Mel had health issues of her own. She had become diabetic with her pregnancies. I am unclear if the condition persisted afterwards. I thought not, but I found the kit and lancet pack in her bathroom after the stroke. I don’t know if she was currently diabetic or not and she wasn’t taking anything for it if she were, because. TEXAS. There was no health exchange in Texas because. OBAMA. Her daughter, was covered still through Washington, as well as the courts stepping in and forcing her ex to take some responsibility and keep his daughter insured no matter what.

Because of the health of her daughter, the amount of time spent in hospitals, at doctors, having surgeries, Mel couldn’t hold down a job. It isn’t that she didn’t try, she did. She decided to go back to school.

Right before her death, she was taking calculus. Everything hinged on passing calculus. If she failed, she would lose her funding and she would no longer be able to put so much time into her daughter’s care. She was burning herself out, was down to under 90 lbs. She was living on caffeine, cigarettes, and pills. She had suffered migraines since I had met her. It didn’t strike me as odd that she was taking stuff for a migraine. I never made the pill connection. I worried about her daughter being addicted because the names of pills they had her on. I “badgered” Mel about her daughters opioid intake.

So all this dribble came from thinking of her this morning and remembering the morning she told me she passed calculus. I was SO proud of her and I told her so. I know many people who have had to change the course of their education because. CALCULUS. I remember saying, “I am SO PROUD of you!” I remember the silence and then hearing her soft crying and heavy sigh followed by, “Thank you **sniffles** I needed to hear that.”

Her continued education was so important to her and she was the type of person who gave it her all, putting herself lowest on the pole of who needed her help. The pay off was supposed to be getting herself back to being financially independent. She had taken someone’s business from struggling, to a million dollar company. She would do it for herself this time.

I know her well enough to know how hard she was pushing herself. I know she thought tomorrow. Tomorrow I will deal with myself.

Only her tomorrows stopped Christmas eve 2014 when the stroke began. I realize in hindsight that part of the oddness in that last call, with her language, words, thoughts was the beginning of the stroke. I wish I had known. I wish I would have called 911 from my state because I suspected something, but I didn’t.

I really miss her.

New Clothes

I changed the theme. I think it’s a push for me to start writing again.

I’m also going to write really honestly.

Here are some truths.

I miss The Girl. I am pretty sure she knows this. I’ve never stopped loving her, though I fear her intensely because at one time, she had the power, and used it to try and hurt me. It worked. I’d love to have a relationship with her, but I also fear it. Trust and all.

I am moving on in life after so many losses, but in all honesty if I die today, I am pretty OK with that. I don’t think I am courting death, but maybe I am. I’m not going to the doctor and I have some pretty serious things going on with my body. Do I ignore it longer and go till I drop, or do I go to the doctor?

I’m not really into more of the same. I have kind of had enough of the loss.

I am probably more closed off than ever, because to let anyone in that close would mean to trust, and I am very, very, very careful about who I hand actual trust to.

On the other side, I know the things I have experienced, seen and felt, to be true. It’s just that life hit me so hard I fell off the path. I’ve not gone back to that same hateful person, but there is this wall of protection around me and when you live like that, you aren’t really living at all. You’re sitting around, waiting for it to be done. My life has felt like the last act, of a bad play, that will not fucking end.

But still I am waiting. I don’t know for what, but I am waiting.

I’m thinking I know what I personally need to do, but I have procrastinated because to jump back into it means work and I know that with so much hidden emotion and denied feeling, it’s going to be heavy. It can’t be any heavier than keeping all this shit inside me, can it?

There are things I am totally happy about also.

I love my little apartment. I love that the things I do in my life, are mine. I do them when I want and no one criticizes me, tells me I am wrong, disapproves, or hits me.

I love my few friends I have kept. These are the people I trust and am comfortable with.

Yesterday, I read something I wrote a few moths before the stroke. How odd. As things were getting better and I was happy because of Mr. Yummy, my move, my job, my soaring spiritual awakening, there was a point I admitted I feared what was coming. In all honesty I seriously thought The Girl was about to make an appearance and I wasn’t sure I could do it. That would have been so much easier than losing Mel, Mr. Yummy and Arie. All within a short time span. Back to back. It felt so cruel. it made me ask if I was a good person? I sort of began to doubt my value. I forgot I am what I am and deserve what I deserve, as do you.

With Love,



Christmas 2016


Two years.

Two painful years of learning how to live again.

I met Jake’s girlfriend, Rachel last night. She reminds me of you. I can tell she isn’t going to take Jake’s shit. Initially, my instinct, is to like her, because I am seeing Jake be happy in a way I haven’t seen since he has become a man.

Initially, she is quiet and reserved. She watches a lot. She’s no dummy and I think she will be good for Jake. I hope they found something with each other. They are very cute together.

I gave the boys their key chains last night and they both got three of your candles. I think they like them. Dylan is fine with a tag that says “My Hero” and Jake is fine with one that says, “My Immortal”. I also told them I’ll order one for Tristan that has a tag that says, “Mama”, that they will hold it for him till he comes back so he knows he was never forgotten.

It’s only 5:26 AM  and I have been teary three times already. I’ve managed to keep it very below the surface, even as Dylan hugged me extra long last night, in that special way you must have just fucking loved. To see the compassion that he can give as a man, compared to the black out rage he displayed as a child is really a beautiful thing Mel. You would be nothing but proud. I am proud to tell the universe, you did a good job with the kids. Most of their good traits, are yours. They both have Jim’s physical work ethic, so there, I said something nice about him.

We all miss Tristan and think of him often. I make sure I call Mik, Kiki sometimes. It makes her sad, but it feels good too, because someone other than she and her two brothers remember, there is Tristan. We see the injustice his father has done to him by removing him totally from their lives and it angers me to know Skeeter is all over him. She has a right, she is his Grandma, but you know what I am saying.

I made they boys and Rachel, enchiladas last night. They went home so Jake and probably Dylan could do their shopping and do their own Xmas eve thing, but they are coming back this afternoon for a turkey dinner. As long as they will have me, I will have them on this day each year. They will get families and eventually break away, but I imagine I will always have a Holiday invite to their homes. I will take them up on it. I love being Auntie. It is the second best gift you ever gave me. Your love and trust being the first.

For now, it is time to go and turn the tears off. I love you always.

Sick n Sin Forever,



You, you, you…

This month, I have had the urge to pick up my phone and call you. Just to have that two hour long free flow of words between us.

So much I would tell you.

I realize, this is going to happen to me the rest of my life. I got the boys key chain urns for your ashes. I’m going to get Dylan a little tag that says. “My Hero”. Jake’s will say “My Immortal”. I’ll get Mik her necklace around Valentines day because it is more expensive. Hers will say, “SnS”, as will mine. Mine will be a lover’s heart. Not that we were lovers, but you were my soul mate and I loved you so fucking deeply. I really learned so much about unconditional love by having you as my friend. True besties, are closer than lovers in a way because unlike some of my lovers, you knew everything, and the same it was with my knowledge of you and some of your lovers, or would be, should have been, your lovers. Mik’s will be a mother and child embrace. She loved the one I picked out for her.

Mik is driving. Has a job, bought herself a car and is living with her BF. Not Mason. Mason blew it with her, she busted him cheating because he left a message session open on his phone. Her BF is the tall lanky kid she went to his prom with.

Jake is with a new girl. I don’t know her name. I’ve not met her, but she has helped him feel something good again, since you died. The whole drama with baby mama, and her shit really fucked Jake up for a while. So did losing you. I am happy to see him smile and he tells me all the time, “I Love you Auntie!” He warms my heart with how giving he is with his love.

Dylan has been a steady moving ship. He’s so mellow and level headed, till he’s not. I don’t think he loses it very often anymore and when he has lost it, guess who is always involved, yanking his chain? Yep. Jake. But they are so close. Jake definitely loves his big brother. It really is something to see the tenderness between them at times. Dylan, I worry about at times because I can’t imaging him not flashing back on finding you, picking you up and driving to the ER like a bat out of hell, only to have the hospital send you to Plaza Medical Center.

So much time slipped by between the start of your stroke, and getting you the proper medical treatment you needed. I wouldn’t feel such a loss, had you not filled a part of my life so completely. I love, that even as you were fighting to die, we shared laughter. I love that even as you were fighting to die, you KNEW I had your back. I love that even as you fought to die, I KNEW your thoughts and feelings by looking into your eyes. My beautiful soulmate, how I miss your laughter and love. I can’t believe in four evenings, it will be two years since I last heard your voice and words.

I have been teary as of late, and I accept certain times of the year will hurt more.

No one has forgotten Tristan. No one but your mother communicates with him because she and What’s His Name are thick as thieves. Imagine that.

Love you forever.

SicknSin Always,


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