Talking is good.

Some how I have to figure out how to keep going. And oddly enough I think the TV show NCIS character Gibbs is helping.  He lost his wife and daughter - murdered.  He got his revenge but this is a character, after all, and I can dream.  The more I watch the shows the more of his background comes out and shows little things he says and does that is his way to keeping his family alive.  He keeps things, like his daughters lunch box, so he can bring it out once in a while.  He is very direct, serious, matter of fact, and anti computer.  But extremely loyal and dedicated.  I also like the "In Plain Sight" character Mary.  Very, very non politically correct in her conversations and accusations.  
So, this week was not that great.  A guy who had been waiting for a heart at Emory didn't make it.  Each time I meet, get to know, and find out they're gone, someone on the transplant list, it hurts.  Hurts like hell.  For two reasons now.  I know how the family feels, and I'm afraid for Danny.  I never tell him about these things.  He didn't know him.  Then a lady everybody in the transplant community knew, died in her sleep.  Oh, my oh my oh my.

I realized last night that I am still very irritated that the ME didn't seem to do very much about trying to have Mary be a donor.  He wasn't very responsive to our phone calls even it if was in the middle of the night.  That's his job.  24 / 7.  You can't imagine how much it hurts or what I would give to have something of Mary walking this earth.  She would have been so happy to have helped as many people as possible.  Not with organs maybe, but with the other 40 something tissues that could have been used.  I realize she was hurt really bad.  But he could have actually talked to us. 

Happy's not happy anymore.

I know if I don't write this now I'll never get the chance.  Today is Mother's Day.  We had the kids all weekend.  They made cards for Julie and pictures.  Couldn't wait for today so they gave them to her Friday night and yesterday. Today she took them to a movie and Mc D's.  

I feel very wishy washy.  This weekend I don't want to do anything with art and wish I could box it all up.  Each day I go back and forth.  So this weekend I decided to get all my "stuff" out of Kerry's room and straighten up the bookcase under the TV in our bedroom.  We put the headboard on Cindy's bed and moved some things around.  Kerry roto-tilled the flower garden spot and planted my bushes.  I cleaned up the garage a little and painted the dresser. Had to do something to feel like I'm getting things done.  

I started picking up my stuff down stairs and sorting it into boxes to neaten up the pool table.  Got most of it looking better.  Then I walked up stairs and found a bouquet of flowers on the table with a card.  I thought it was from Julie.  I opened the card and it said "love Mary".  Instant tears.  Kerry got them for me.  I couldn't stop but I didn't want to breakdown in front of the kids.  I told Anna the flowers were from Mary and she said "Mary's dead. A prison man killed her."  I told her Mary lives in my heart and she said, "Yes, she's in my heart."  I wonder how much she'll remember when she gets older.  Mary's picture is all over the house and we talk about her all the time.  She accidentally broke a necklace that Mary gave her and she cried. So, she remembers some things.  

Heart Support group is tomorrow night.  I go even though they don't seem to be able to keep is non-religious.  But, you can't change people.  Wendy understands but I told her not to worry.  If it bugs me enough I'll say something.

Have a good Mother's day.

My journal

I think I might change my journal back to let others read it if they want to.  Not that people are asking to read it.  Just that keeping track of specific email addresses is a pain.  So, maybe I will.

There's a shadow hanging over me...

Life is calm.  Gabe and Anna are in bed, Julie is downstairs getting them to sleep, and Cindy is watching TV with Papa for a few minutes.  Danny is camping out at Lake Russel with friends.  And I am writing and watching TV at the same time.  

I've started making pages for the altered books I want to create.  I am forcing myself to do something.  Sometimes it looks cool and sometimes not so hot.  But I keep on keeping on, one page at a time.  I will focus on the action not on the accomplishment.  Repetition gets me through the days.  Even though there is no guarantee I will finish the page I'm working on, the movement of mind and matter reinforces the fact that life is continuing, with or without me.

I realized today that I have truly been able to compartmentalize my feelings.  I am really two people meld into one.  The first goes on about life as if Mary is away for awhile, on a trip, living in another state, etc.  But my shadow shows up when I'm thinking about the facts.  When I am confronted with reality.  I can be sitting at my desk at work talking to my colleague's and the next minute I have to close my door because I can't keep from crying, it's hard to breathe, and I can't think straight. Sometimes catching a glimpse of an email from her, seeing a picture I didn't expect to see, someone asking me about her, seeing a really large truck driving at me is all I need for the split to happen. 

I was watching Good Will Hunting last weekend for the 12th time at least. At one point Will and Sean are getting into it. 

               Will says, "Where's your "soul-mate?! Dead! 
               She dies and you just cash in your chips. 
                That's a fuckin' cop-out! 

                Sean says, "I been there. I played my hand. 

                Will says, "That's right. And you fuckin' lost!  
                And some people would have the sack 
                to lose a big hand like that and 
                still come back and ante up again!"

I can't decided if this conversation needs to be part of my and Tony's life or not.  It is sitting in the back of my mind.  I used to think I knew how I would react to specific situations even through I tell people "you don't know what you'd do till you get there".  It was a "do as I say not as I do" thing. Deep down part of me still believes that - since I feel I've been through hell and back - my hell, not someone else's.  God help me if I have to go through this again.  Tony is in Homer already.  Got there today.  New uncharted territory.  Beautiful place but with a little cloud hanging over.

Art

Been doing a lot of thinking lately. Tony is on his way to Alaska.  People think he's "moving" on.  We're both just moving.  

I've been trying to make some kind of art.  Started checking out library books on Collage, Assembled, and Altered art.  So far all I've done is look through the pictures, copy pages that look cool, and go to thrift stores and Hobby Lobby collecting "things" to put into art projects.  My basement is FULL of STUFF.  I sit down there and stare at Mary's pictures and look through all the stuff I've collected.  Just can't seem to find that little push to actually put paint, glue, ideas to paper.  Oh, I diggle at little things but they aren't any good.  All the pictures look so exciting.  I can see all kinds of creations in my mind and I try to write them down or sketch them.  But actually creating them is a different story.

Life Sucks

Found out last week that the man that killed Mary got a ticket for having an open container while he was driving his car.  Had a beer stuffed between his car seats - over half gone.  This happened on April 1st.  One year and one day after he ruined our lives.  He was driving on the same road around 9om at night.  Didn't hit .08 on the breathalyzer but was on his way.  Now he only has to pay his ticket and he'll be on his way again.  Justice is a fickle state.

I live in the past, exist in the now, and am terrified of the future.  Sometimes it's just not worth getting out of bed.  Even when I try to do something constructive or fun the enthusiasm just isn't there.  The world is just blah and sad.

Kerry's birthday is Thursday and I'm having a party for him on Saturday.  He'll be 60.  Mary lives birthday parties.  If I bring Mary's picture wonder if anyone will feel uncomfortable.  But do I care?

Tony is here.  He's been here for a week and is leaving Sunday to start his trip to Alaska.  It has been good having him around.  But when we look at each other, sadness rains down.  Life sucks. 

Guilt

So.... what do I know.  Not much.  Nothing.  Life keeps moving on, passing me by, and I just keep sitting here waiting, for what I know not.  I'm not even sure if I'm waiting or just sitting.  

Last week was almost as horrible as last year, just without the shock.  So many people called, texted, and emailed to say we were in their thoughts.  And......a few people didn't.  Nothing, not one word.  Oh well...

I am told that I live in the world of survivor's guilt. Interesting term. It's keeping my brain stuck in the past while my body moves blindly forward.  Because as we all know, you have to keep moving, breathing, eating, peeing, working, shopping, cleaning, and sometimes, laughing, playing, and always, hating, crying, and loving.

My life in a nut shell, I'm stuck.

Tony's coming tomorrow.  Can't wait.