Dating really sucks

I got this off one of the other blogs that I read semi-regularly. This guy really makes me appreciate Mike.

Are the stars out tonight?

If I had to pin down one thing that I miss about not living in Iowa, I would have to say it would be the stars. On a clear night, you can see eternity. You don't get skies like that in Chicago. Even when it's clear, there is a big city haze that prevents you from seeing the pinpoints of light. When I was a kid, I used to lay in the yard and look up at the night sky. Life seems so much simpler under an Iowa sky. When I couldn't sleep last night, I lay down on the grass in the yard, looked up at that clear star-filled sky and listened to my MP3 player - contemplating the universe unfolded before me and my place within it.

My friend Amy's mom tells a story about her parents which I always think about now when I'm star-gazing. Wanda lost both of her parents within four months of each other in late 2003/early 2004. Her mom had cancer and it slowly killed her. Then just after the new year, her father went to Iowa City for a doctor's appointment and had a massive heart attack in the waiting room. Wanda says that as she was driving home following her mom's death, she noticed an especially bright star which she thought seemed to follow her home. She saw this star out in the night sky every night. A few days after her father's death, she noticed a second especially bright star in a separate part of the sky. Every night for the next few months, she says, she watched those stars get closer and closer together in the night sky until finally they sat in the sky side by side where she still sees them. Her father had found her mother and they now sit together in that night sky forever.

Do I believe that Matt and my mom have become stars in the night sky? Not really - but I think it's a great story and one that brings a lot of comfort to Amy's mom where nothing else did. I will say this, though. As I lay there in the grass, staring up at a sky overflowing with those beautiful gaseous bodies, the song "Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley came through my headphones. If you haven't heard that song, check it out. A hauntingly, sad and beautiful melody. Anyway, this song came through on my headphones and I felt so peaceful. I haven't felt truly good and at peace in over seven weeks. I didn't feel alone. It was as if those stars truly were shining souls surrounding me. I revelled in that feeling for as long as it lasted and for those minutes it was as if the last few weeks had never happened.

Whether people go to a place called Heaven or merely take their spot among the other heavenly bodies, one thing is clear to me. Everything is better under an Iowa sky.

She Is Gone

She is Gone

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back,
Or you can do what she would want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

David Harkins

Here we go again

And here we are - after 2 am and I'm awake. I'm so tired of insomnia. It's not the same insomnia that I had right after my mom died. That was relentless. I dreaded bedtime because that was when the full weight of everything would hit me and leave me feeling like someone had ripped out several of my vital organs with a dull spoon. Everything hurt then. My chest ached, my stomach hurt from the nausea that never ended, my eyes burned and my nose was sore, dry and flaky from crying, my head hurt from the stress and thinking too much and all of my muscles screamed from the tension that never left my body. In the six weeks since her death, I've learned to get through the day little by little. At first, I was literally taking everything minute by minute. Gradually, I could get through a few hours without breaking down and I've gotten to the point where I can almost go a whole day without freaking out and blubbering all over myself. I haven't done it yet, though. If the meltdown occurs early-ish in the day, I can go to bed in my own bedroom. If not, I've learned to lay down in the other room until it passes so that I don't keep Mike up. Sometimes I fall asleep in the spare room watching tv and don't crawl into my own bed until early the next morning.

A day or two ago, someone told me that they knew "exactly how I felt" because her aunt had died. Now I do not doubt anyone's sincerity in grief but it was only due to sheer willpower that I didn't rip her eyeballs out and scream at her, "YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW I FEEL SO SHUT THE HELL UP!" Don't ever say that to me until your mom suddenly drops dead - then we'll talk. Have I mentioned that I've sliding into the "Anger" stage of grief? Big surprise, huh? I still spend a lot of my time in the denial phase - it's easier to handle. The "let's pretend Mom's on vacation" stage. Some days I feel like I hate everyone in the whole world who still has two living parents. I'm full of angst - perhaps I'll start listening to Avril Lavigne. Feh.

Well, Meme is curled up in a fuzzy little cat ball on the spare bed. I think I will join her and try to ride out this sleeplessness.

Maybe when I wake up I will feel more like relating the happenings of the last few days rather than spouting more drivel. Don't like my drivel? Too bad, suck it up...or hug it out, bitch - whichever's easier. Ha!

Peace!

Uh, yeah-

I got a firm talking to today. Apparently, according to my husband, my previous post was obnoxious and out of line. So...I have been ordered to issue a previously written statement as follows: (Ahem)

To anyone who was unaware that I was KIDDING when I said that I would not allow you in my home unless you bring me a present -

First of all, lighten up. Hee. (Mike didn't tell me to say that, that's my own addition). Secondly, I apologize if I sounded "obnoxious" and "money hungry." It was not my intention, I assure you. It was after 1 AM and we had been driving home from Michigan, I was tired and goofy and I was simply fooling around. I will be happy to allow you to enter my household without bringing me anything! Unless I don't know you and you're a stalker - I'm afraid that's a dealbreaker. In fact, Mike has forbidden me from accepting any gifts that people attempt to force upon me. Yeah - like that's gonna happen. ;) But I'm getting off point. Please accept my apologies for my apparent "uncool" sense of humor.

Peace!

Melrose Place - the next generation

We got a call on the machine while we were visiting Michigan this weekend. We've got the place on Melrose and we're a go for move-in. Huzzah!

The par-tay is on. We expect gifts of an extra-fine caliber. You will not be admitted on our new premises if you bear a less than stellar addition to our household. Oh, and by the way, people - I'm still holding out for a Brita Water faucet filter thing. Don't be cheap! Heh. If I don't get one soon, I will be forced to buy it myself (totally unacceptable, by the way) but I will do so if absolutely necessary. Of course then I will hunt you all down and slap each and every one of you upside the head with it. I (probably) know where you live. Let's face it, I think about a quarter of my readership died with my mom - so it's not hard to track down the other three. You know who you are.

Wow - I REALLY need to go to bed. I'm starting to get slap happy and goofy. I'll post more later (if you're lucky) - I just wanted to spread good news for once!

Peace!