It’s all just stuff in the end.
It’s all material things… in the long run you can’t take it with you.
But when a person dies, their stuff legally goes to whoever he/she deemed in a written will… if there is no will, it goes to their next of kin.
In my case, my fiance’s stuff goes back to his parents. I legally have no right to anything that we shared.
Earlier this week, they asked for his sleeping bag and his tent.
Holding onto each other as if life depended on it.
I have a friend dying of cancer. Okay, I would like to have more hope and think he’s NOT ‘dying’ but that he is going to be able to beat it… but it is stage 4 cancer and it has spread to other vital parts of his body so my intellect says he’s closer to death; my heart says he must and will beat it.
My friend -let’s call him ‘Leonardo’- is a mere 36 years old. Leonardo’s as old as my fiance when he passed. 36 is too young. Leonardo had just gotten married to Michellyn*, his girlfriend of 15 years. He had put it off until he was financially stable enough to ‘give her a good life’. We’ve known Michellyn since we were all in high school. She could have cared less about his financial stability; she loved him and would follow him wherever he would have gone. Read more...
I really should have watched reality television more… for personal research.
When someone has cheated marvelously on you and you are as unaware as a child getting holy communion while your family is outside the church getting drunk… something inside you goes POP!!!!
I’ve read so much Cosmopolitan and so much Askmen.com or anything that resembled “Top 10 Reasons Men Cheat!!!” (Thank you Huffington Post for reminding me why being single is sometimes better. And oh, let’s not even get started on the Pat Robertson lecture that outlines that I basically must’ve SUCKED as a partner.) I don’t even like reading that stuff… it feels so… obvious. But at the same time, why am I the cheated-upon idiot that didn’t see the ‘obvious’?!? Read more...
Yup, I looked like that last night.
The boxes are packed. Strange how you can label your life down to “Kitchen- Appliances” and “Bedroom- Cal King Sheets”. The U-Haul is rented. It is to be picked up in two days.
The last time I did this, I was moving to LA to be with the love of my life; now I was moving back to the San Francisco Bay Area to be with my very worried parents. Ah, what a difference 15 months can make!
Last night, I got drunk for the first time in a long time. I love drinking. Safe to say, I think many a fling for me has occurred over a good vodka/grapefruit. But in the past, I couldn’t drink at home. Read more...
Therapy: just replace Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s face with mine.
I’m trying to kick the grief in the butt. I know it’s been a month… be gentle with yourself, etc. BUT! I won’t lie, grief is all-consuming and sometimes I find myself crying in the car because an exit reminds me of something. (“Oh look. There’s the In-and-Out. We ate there.”) Grocery shopping is like walking thru the death halls of memory. (-”Pickled beets. That’s one of his favorites.” -”Oh, there’s a sale on Via Decaf coffee. He liked decaf.” -”Figs. We never had enough figs.”)
Why are you here in the grocery store, you traitorous decaf coffee you?!?! Read more...
“I hear you, I absolutely hear you.”
“Hi I’m… and my fiance passed away three weeks ago in an accident.”
I said it, it was a simple statement, and the group of widows all moaned at the same time.
We were doing introductions. It was my grief group… kinda like rehab for sobbers. There were about 15 of us, and I was the youngest by 20 years at least. The majority of them were about 75-85 years old. Little white haired women with wadded kleenex tissue crumpled from the onslaught of free-flowing snot. Read more...
Love anyway, despite it all.
God/The Universe/The Winds of Fate works in strange mysterious ways.
It took me three weeks after his death to find out he was not faithful to me.
Because in retrospect, it all makes so much sense: the strangely subdued last few months, the increased absences for work, the feeling that something was ‘off’.
But we as humans try to brain our feelings away, we try hard to rationalize it’s just a ‘feeling’. I had no evidence, I just knew I was sadder more often and couldn’t figure out why. We were constantly bickering about the wedding, but all the magazines and all the married people said that was normal. Read more...
“Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as
effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing
bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that
never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm
on some idle Tuesday.” -Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen), a song popularized by Baz Luhrmann
It was Tuesday. I was sitting on my beanbag chair filling out forms for potential jobs.
It was beautiful. The sun was streaming thru my open front door, allowing the cat to come in and out as she pleased.
It was 2:40pm. He’s late. Read more...
I needed a cupcake. Short and simple. I wanted moist and delicious, with a creamy REAL buttercream frosting. (Why oh WHY do people make their frostings out of lard?!? If my frosting doesn’t MOVE when I touch it, there’s just something completely wrong with it.)
Yes, buttercream frosting. Not that Lee Hansen hard as nails frosting that comes out of a Better Crocker jar, and definitely not fondant. (Who LIKES that stuff anyway?) Real BUTTERCREAM frosting, the kind made with sticks and sticks of BUTTER, cups and cups of SUGAR, and just a hint of WHIPPING CREAM.
I’m a fool in love. Always have been. I don’t know where I ever learned it, but I am all about preserving and growing my love relationships to the point where even I go, “I did that? What was I thinking?!?!”
Introducing the former Crown Prince of England who abdicated the throne for a girl, and the girl he did it for. Read more...