What's next?

I'm giving up things.  Things I don't need, things I can't handle, things that clutter, and keeping the things that make me smile.  Things.... what does this word mean?  What is "thing" and why are there so many of them?  They are everywhere.  Big, small, tall, short, long, fat, skinny, and if you aren't careful they'll block your view like a white out or send you sailing like black ice.

I need to concentrate on my life right now and what's important to me.  Not what I think makes me important to others.  

Why do I care about being forgotten when I didn't used to care about being remembered?  Does this make sense? I went about my life, got caught up in the daily hassle of living, forgetting to keep in touch with friends who weren't living near me.  Everyone gets busy with life, go down different paths at different times in their lives. Then they may converge again years later, kind of like a wandering stream that reunites with the main river.  

Mary is gone now.  And although I didn't wonder about who in our lives remembered what we were doing everyday, now I wonder if they are going to forget her as time passes.  I guess because every now and then, every year or so, we would be in touch and catch up on everything.  But now.......there's nothing to catch up on.  Just the bittersweetness of memories, nothing new going on or changing.  Mary is Mary, never to change.  

I would really like to choke that man.  I wish he has lost some piece of himself so that every minute of every day he would be reminded of what he did.  Maybe a leg, a hand, a whole arm, maybe wheelchair relegated.   Maybe he could have lost his head.  But then he wouldn't be suffering anymore.  Will his suffering bring Mary back?  No.  Will him being dead bring Mary back?  No. Will my knowing that he is suffering bring Mary back? NO NO NO NO NO NO  Then why do I want him to suffer?  Will it make me feel better?  I don't know.... I really don't know.  It hasn't so far.  I wonder what I would feel like if she had been taken by cancer or no one was at fault.  Would it make it easier if there was no one to blame?  Would I be blaming god then since there wasn't anyone else?

I don't know what to think anymore.  So, I'm going to bed.  Maybe I'll wake up in the morning.

What's the use?

3 weeks till T-day.  I keep counting and counting, subtracting the days till he gets put away but it's still not what he deserves.  So even if he got 9 years, the max, it wouldn't be enough. Nothing will ever be enough.  Even if he had died at the scene, it wouldn't be enough. Nothing is enough.

Will it always be this way?  Will I always be crying everyday?  

The TV shows I watch are getting hard to take. 

I'm not even sure what I'm doing anymore.  I need to concentrate on work and fixing the house.  I need to concentrate on something other than him.

Happy Birthday

I wish there was a little neighborhood bar just down the street that had $1 drinks where I could go.  Somewhere close where I could walk to and from.  Kind of like Cheer's.  Some place to go and sit and people watch. Talk when I wanted to talk or sit quietly when I didn't want to talk but still have people and noise around.

The kids are gone, Kerry's asleep, Julie's out, and Danny is on his side of the house.  It's too quiet so I have the TV on.  I'm not really watching, barely listening, just having noise in the background.  Mary's birthday was not quiet, thank goodness.  I had a fire going all day long.  The kids were playing inside and out with the snow.  We all thanked Mary for sending the snow on her 30th birthday.  I made cookies, pecan pie, and black bean soup.  Lots of people posted on Mary's facebook page. She should have been here. But I wasn't alone and it wasn't quiet. I didn't have time to mull over my life without her. It's been almost two years and I still sit and pine away when it's quiet and there's nothing to keep my mind occupied.  Maybe that's why working is comforting and playing those "stupid" computer games. 

Tony called that morning to say he was in Argentina and would be away from a phone for about 10 days.  He also said he knew what day it was and knew it was going to be hard for me, for us.  I know it was hard for him too.  We should have been having a party.  Tanisha called too. 

The trial is coming up. 31 days left.  Will I feel better after it's over?  I think not.  Might I feel worse, possibly.  I'm not supposed to obsess about the trial.  So I have to stop talking about it.

I am going to have a fire tomorrow night.  I love fires... and rain falling on a tin roof... and a comfy blanket to snuggle in.  I used to like a good book to read while sitting beside the fire.  Guess I should start reading again. 

Mary Mary quite contrary 
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids all in a row.

That's so my Mary.  On her fb page I found her favorite quote -In the spring at the end of the day, your hands should smell like dirt.  Margaret Atwood.

I sent a message to 75 people I thought might like to know that the trial was coming up. I was informing them of the date and asked if they wanted or could come to let me know.  13 people answered.  Some were coming, most couldn't but wanted to let me know.  Why do I feel disappointed?  My expectations were greater than I expected?  Does it hurt to remember Mary?  Or have they just moved on?  


Anyway...I'm going to bed.  I may not sleep but I can wrap up in in my comfy blanket and snugge next to my husband.  Maybe I'll fall asleep before I cry too much.


Happy 30th Birthday my sweetie... love you



 

New Year's Revolutions

Well, well, well.  Here we are again.  Starting another year without Mary in it.  Just her face in pictures, her smell on clothes (sometimes), and her love in my heart.  But I want it all.  I want her back.  

His trial is now 42 days away and already my stomach is aching.  What will I do? What will I say?  How will I feel when I walk in that court room.  I once watched a cop video of a man in handcuffs being taken away when a parent attacked him, almost killed him.  I'm sure I've seen a few others like that but for some reason this particular one has stuck with me.  I said that was exactly what I'd do if something happened to one of my children.  Will it?  If he isn't convicted I may just wipe out the jury for being so stupid but I can't see that happening.  But then I didn't think Mary would be gone either. So ANYTHING can happen.  God can't control it because "he" gave us free will, so how can he be in control?  

This "holiday" season has done nothing for me.  My tree is naked now sitting in my living room.  The kids are here and we all talk about Mary like she was in the next room.  Only Anna will spurt out "Mary's dead".  But she quickly adds, "she's in my heart".  I hope she'll continue to remember her face if not her voice.

Looking at Mary's picture seems to hurt more now and I don't know why.  It used to be the only thing that made me feel better.  We had white chili tonight that Cindy cooked (made Mary proud).  We discovered white chili at a little cafe in Franklin on one of my trips up there.  

I guess I'll just have to admit to myself that I'm afraid of going to the trial.  Afraid of the unknown.  Afraid of what I or my family will do or won't do.  Afraid of reliving every single minute of that night by listening to the DA.  But the jury has to hear it, has to see it in our eyes, through our tears, our sobs.  

Well, here's to the new year and whatever it will bring...... or take away.  Life sucks most times.