Stockholm

I went home today.  I had a coworker loose her dad and wanted to pay my respects.  Her father was buried in the same cemetery  as my daughter and grandparents, so I took flowers.  I don't make it home often so I took the oportunity to change out the winter flowers to something more spring worthy.   It was a beautiful service with a wonderful message.  Few years for the man was deeply religious as is the rest of the family.  They have faith that he was and is now with their Lord.
I gave Huggs and we'll wishes then walked the distance to where my family rests.

  My visits with my daughters memory are private for many reasons.  Beside the fact that others are uncomfortable with my tears, I am often cussing God.  Those moments are raw, angry, and gut wrenching.  Not something I am proud of.  Not something I want my family, friends, or an aquaintance of any kind to whitnes.   I talk to the angels as if they were warriors that try to protect those near from the actions of a God that has fooled the pore misguided followers into believing him to be a fair and giving God.   He is giving alright.  He gives people sickness so that they pray more to him.  He gives people heartache so that they worship him harder.  He doles out sadness, strife and illness so that when he does choose to lift the negative, fools are even more thankful and praise him more for his genorisoty.   It is as if the majority of the world suffers from Stockholm syndrome.  

  I find the faith that I witnessed today interest.  I wonder why we lock away people that cause harm and never trust them again, but if you attach the title God to it, all the rules change.   Well, I can't  do that.  If a person had done to me half of what God has put me through,  I wold have walked away and never trusted them or talked to them again.  Don't get me wrong  I am a believer,  I just resent His actions as a leader and will never trust his choices or judgements.

So instead I vent to angels.

Aunt Tina's Fridge

I went home (Houston) for New Years Eve.  I had originally planed on having some not so vanilla fun in Dallas with my new found friends, but family issues caused a change in plans.   I got to Houston about 6:00pm on New Years Eve and headed to Tina's house.  Tina has a physical and cognitive deficit caused by a triple wrapped umbilical cord at birth.  She had lived her entire life with my grandmother then (at her death) with me.  She has been pretty much on her own for the last 3 years. 

I digress,  I picked up Tina and headed to my BFF's for some bubbling wine, vodka, and fireworks.  It was quite a night.  The mimosas were doing the trick, the 5 shots of vodka did me in, only to top it off with a toast at midnight of pink champagne.  Needless to say, we ended up spending the night at Shawna's and not heading home.

Wednesday afternoon, we got up managed to eat some Chic-Fil-A and headed to Wal-Mart for Tina's Christmas present.  We bought the basics for her freezer and bathroom:  lots of hamburger, chicken breasts, sandwich meat, shampoo, t.p.... you get the idea.   Enough to fill her freezer up!  Got back to her house and went to put the groceries in the freezer only to discover that she had no food in the cabinet or fridge.  NOTHING worth eating anyway!  She had one very rotten egg, ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, and a small tub of butter along with 4 cans of cheep veggies in the cabinet.

I was so heartbroken.  Thank goodness my plans had changed.  Thank goodness my dad had suggested that I go see her.    It was a strange feeling standing there looking into the bright void of her refrigerator.  The glaring white was a reality check.  I said a quick prayer of thanks that I had gotten her oatmeal and muffins for breakfasts.  She at least could make spaghetti and meat sauce for lunch and dinner.

I called her when I got home this afternoon.  She had had company and one of her friends brought her coffee, another some flowers.  She gets paid Monday and my Aunt Dale will be picking her up  to go on a grocery run.

I look back and can see evidence of spending.  nick-knacks that were not necessary.  She had a Scentsy burner in every room, some had 2.  There were boxes of new tree ornaments,  there was a new Mr Coffee coffee pot like a Keurig, with the traditional coffee maker setting right next to it.   She had informed me that she bought it with a gift card at Wal-Mart.   The reality is that she could have bought groceries if she had so chosen to spend her money in that manor.  She had made a choice.  A choice made with the expectation of a hand out for groceries. 

Although Tina is "special"  she is a manipulative little shit sometimes.   I am glad that I had not looked into her fridge before we went to the store.  Our shopping excursion would have been more guilt ridden and she would have ended up with more junk.  As it is, the groceries we did get were solid staples.  Things that were healthy and will last.   

It has been hard letting go of the responsibility of Tina.  I took care of her for 5 years.  In that time she did not lack for anything.  I worked 3 jobs and bought all her wants and needs.  Drove her everywhere she needed or wanted to go.  I miss her, but I also know that it was time for me to leave.  It was time for her brothers to take over her care.  The empty fridge broke me, but the reality is that she chose to spend her money on other items.  She made a choice and needed to learn from it.  Hopefully my gift didn't do any damage.  Hopefully, she will begin to quit buying candle wax and start buying what she need.

I love my Aunt Tina.  I just hope she will be okay on her own. 

Finding Amber

Amber in the sun!

This evening the thought popped into my head that I needed to clean during my vacation this week. I looked around this evening assessing what all I could get done by Thanksgiving.  I couldn't help but notice the bag of  i.v. fluid hanging off the bedpost.  Upon further inspection, I notice other items:  there is .033 cc of Buprin waiting for the next bad night,  small bag of  iv needles that we never used, 2 prescription bottles with her name on them sit in the medicine cabinet, the heating pad rests at the foot of bed where she liked to sleep, and a sundry of other small items I am sure I have been ignoring to avoid reality.   None of it has been touched.  It just kinda waits.  A silent reminder that she really was here, that she was a part of my life and a large part of it at that.

It has been a month and a half since my Girly Goose Amber Eyes passed over that rainbow bridge.  It is strange, on occasion I swear I feel her jump up on the bed, or I will wake up having the sensation that I have accidentally kicked her in my sleep.  Her urn is still on my bed side table, so I know that she is gone.  I even sifted through the ashes to find the bb pellets that were left from her previous adventures.  I had a fear that I had gotten someone else's pet and went on a mission, It took me a while to find the 12 year old shrapnel, but I did.  Just more evidence that she is gone.  (Don't worry I just shifted the ashes around in the bag,  I didn't actually touch them.)

Archie is lonely.  He cries at me for hours when I come home at night.  I feel guilty that he is left alone all day.  I feel sad that he is sad.  Part of me wants to get him a buddy.  Another part of me is not ready yet.