World Alzheimer's Day

Today is World Alzheimer's Day! 

There are 5 days left to donate to my ‪#‎Walk2EndAlz‬! Check out my My Walk Page to read my story and if you feel so inclined you can donate there as well.

Donations benefit the Alzheimer's Association and help towards providing Alz care, support and towards funding research towards prevention and finding a cure.

This cause means a lot to me because watching my grandfather lose himself in this disease was one of the hardest things I've dealt with. You lose a person you love twice, once right in front of you and the second time once they do pass. It's rough. People think of Alzheimer's as being "memory loss" only and just "old age" but it's not. You can get it at 40 or 70. It's much more than just losing track of time or forgetting where your car keys are. You forget people. You lose your memories. There are physical aspects of it. It's heartbreaking when someone you love can't remember how to pour themselves a glass of milk. It's so much more than just becoming forgetful and so many don't realize that.

If you want to do something for World Alzheimer's Day, you can....

Donate to the cause. 

Wear purple today.

Volunteer your time.

Learn some facts.

Thank a caregiver if you know one in real life or on social media.

Thank you to all those that have supported me in some way leading up to this years walk. The walk is this weekend and I'm ready! Wether you showed support through sharing links, talking about this with me, joining the walk or donating your hard earned cash to the walk, I appreciate it all so much. 

Death and Life

June is an odd month for me. There's a lot to celebrate as it's one of my younger brother's birthday month, my birthday month, my boyfriend and his sister's birthday month and Father's Day. There's a lot of joy in there but then there are things that were life changing events that make it a harder month to get through emotionally and mentally.

June 9th is one of my younger brother's birthday. It also unfortunately is the day our grandfather passed away. Yesterday was the 4th year since he passed and my brother's 29th birthday. 

The last several years of my brother's life, I've always felt a little guilty because I want my brother to have an amazing day on his birthday, as people should. But I also still get so sad on that day because I miss my grandfather a lot. And I know it's something that weighs on him as well and that sucks. I also understand how much it sucks to lose someone you care for on a day that's supposed to be a damn good one to celebrate life and love and the people in your life. I digress. 

I was lucky to have someone so great that's worth missing so much be such a big part of my life because not everyone's fortunate to have a pair of kick ass grandparents. At the same time, it makes it hurt that much more because losing someone you have a close relationship with sucks. Even if you're a little happy to see them go because you know their pain and suffering is now over and who doesn't want that for a person they love?

Last year on June 13th, my friend Amanda committed suicide. June 15th is my birthday and that also happens to be the day we found out that she had committed suicide. I've been thinking about her a lot lately. In part, because it's hard not to think about it considering my birthday celebration last year ended with me laying in bed only to find she'd been found dead in her ex's kitchen shortly after I'd laid down. Also because it's coming up on that one year and people have been posting things to her Facebook wall. Poems, art, random thoughts, prayers and various other things. All things she'll never see or read but things that make the person posting them feel connected still, in some way. Or maybe it just makes them feel better in another way. I don't judge because I can't bring myself to delete messages from her and can't remove her from my Facebook feed even though I'll never be able to talk to her again. 

Her death was, in several ways, harder to deal with. My grandfather had Alzheimer's (which is what got me into doing the Alzheimer's Walks and fundraising for the Alz Association) and he was sick for quite a while before he finally couldn't fight anymore. Amanda, I didn't see that coming because you rarely ever see suicide coming. I had plans to see her and hang out the following weekend. I went to her funeral that day instead, which wasn't the way I wanted to spend time with her.

It wasn't the first friend I'd lost like this but it's not something that gets easier. It's hard and you go through so many emotions. I still occasionally get so goddamn mad at her for being gone and then a few minutes later I'm crying because I just miss her and wish I could split fajitas and some margaritas. I know it won't be as bad this year as it was last year, though. I won't be shocked and devastated because she's already gone. And as hard as it is to cope with death, it does get easier the more time passes by.

My grandfather's death was the first death I'd gone through that was someone I was truly close to. I feel guilty saying that because I'd lost other friends and relatives that I honestly didn't know that well before him. Those deaths sucked in different ways but his was the first one that was heartbreaking and devastating for me. I kept having people telling me it would get easier the more time that went by and after that first year, I really understood that nothing would be as awful as the first year of adjusting to the fact that he was gone. There were so many things that I didn't realize would hurt that did. Not needing birthday cards or father's day cards for him anymore. Not needing to buy a present for him at the holidays. Addressing Christmas cards solely to my grandmother and not to both of them. Changing the name in my cell phone from "Grandpa & Grandma" to just "Grandma." Watching a basketball game and remembering the reason I even like watching basketball is because I used to watch it with him and got into it because of him. Tons of little things that never even crossed my mind but felt like punches right to the gut. Now, after several years, moments like that happen few and very far in between.

With both of them, I think I thought it would stop hurting much more immediately than it did despite really knowing better. Maybe I naively hoped I could get passed it and be okay faster than I really did.  Like it couldn't possibly keep being painful year after X amount of time because at some point, you're obviously going to realize you've cried all your tears and had all of your sad moments. Then you could just think fondly of them and remember happy times and feel gratitude at the time you had with them and nothing will hurt anymore because it's been long enough. That's a really nice thought but it's not realistic and that realization sucks. There isn't a "long enough" and another realization that this one brought on is that that's okay, too. It's okay to cry and miss them and hurt. As long as you're not dwelling there and do remember all the good, it's okay to not be okay after you lose someone you love. It's okay to not be okay sometimes even after it's been a while. There's no time limit and no reason to feel guilty or ashamed over how you feel.

It Can Get Better....

**Trigger warning: suicide**

My mom's birthday was yesterday. I realized last night that I had several more people to get birthday cards for in the next few months. My sister's birthday is next month, my dad's is in December, my youngest brother's is in January and I have a small handful of friends and a couple coworkers all with birthdays coming up in the next few months. I got the clever idea that I should make a quick list so as not to forget anyone and then go buy all the cards I need for the next few months all at once so I don't have to run to the store in the name of birthday cards nine times over the next few months. I also wouldn't have to worry about having to run out last minute in case I ended up losing track of the days and then remembering, "hey I need to send so-and-so a card because they're birthday is two days away!"

So I got my list together, double checked to make sure I wasn't forgetting anyone I planned on sending one to and then set off to get what I needed.

I love sending cards and letters. I'm one of those weird people that still enjoys hand writing out letters and thank you notes and sending them off in the mail. I almost always write an extra little note inside of cards I send because there's almost always something missing that I want said in whatever card I find. 

Sometimes, I hate looking through cards, though. Sometimes, I'm looking through cards looking for a specific one. In this instance, the birthday card for my sister. Then it springs to mind that, hey, Amanda's birthday is the same day as my sisters is! I think for a second I need to get her one too and then I remember that no, no I don't need to get her one because she's been dead since she killed herself this passed June. And then I'm standing in Hallmark with tears rushing down my face while I stand in front of a row of cards that I can't really see anymore. I'm sad and I'm crying and I'm trying to stop and I feel so grateful I have on a hat that covers half of my face and relieved the ladies in that store leave you alone unless you need their help and angry at myself for breaking down in public and sad again all because I can't buy my friend a birthday card because she's gone. 

So I leave without getting anything because I can't stop crying and I don't like to cry in public. I don't like to cry in front of people I know. Mostly I don't want to make a scene and don't want to explain to strangers why I'm standing in Hallmark with tears rushing down my face and I needed quiet and solitude to get myself calmed down again. So I sit in my car for 10 minutes. I think about just driving the four minutes back to my apartment but I'm stubborn and want to get what I came out for. I feel like I'm letting myself down if I go home, letting my emotions and anxieties chase me back home without completing a task. I don't want to let these things rule me, so I don't. I'm fine. So, I let myself finish crying until it doesn't feel like there's a gaping hole in the my stomach. I open my door and splash my face with water from a bottled water I had with me. I turn on some loud rock music and I take some long, deep, calming breaths and then I'm fine again. I go back in, get an odd look from the lady at the counter and I smile and she does a strange little head bow and smiles at me as I get back to buying cards. 

Suicide is hard. Death is hard enough on it's own but suicide makes something hard and makes it even harder to cope with. You're in denial because no, no, no, my friend/loved one is fine and would never do that. Even if they weren't fine, this can't be right because they wouldn't kill themselves. They have friends, they have families, they seem happy and content with life. Or they're struggling but they have family and friends and people that care about them, people that love them, people that would do anything within their power to move the whole fucking Earth to make things better or at least more bearable. There's no way they would do that. You'd know, you'd be able to tell, right? Right? Wrong. 

You wonder why they would've done this. You don't understand. Amanda didn't leave any kind of note explaining anything. From what I've come to understand, most whom commit suicide don't leave any kind of thought out note explaining or saying goodbye. The hardest part with reaching acceptance of their death is accepting that you'll just have to accept that they're gone without understanding why they took their life.

I cried a lot in June after Amanda's death. News of her suicide came just a few hours after I'd gotten home from celebrating my birthday and Father's Day with my family and boyfriend. I was having a party the following weekend that she was going to attend. I struggled a lot the first few weeks. Then I cried less. Then I didn't cry at all. Then the realization I wouldn't need to buy her a birthday card and wouldn't have to worry about getting her a gift for the awesome birthday party that was planned months in advance was the first time I'd cried over her death since the first week in September.

I don't know if she thought death would be easier. I don't know if she couldn't bear the thought of living life anymore after the events that lead up to her taking her life. I don't know if she was thinking her kids would be better off. I don't know if she just panicked. I don't know if thought and planning went into it. I don't know if she was just that depressed. I don't know if any of the things that I've turned over in my head after her death were thoughts she had or not. 

I do know that suicide isn't the answer. I'm not just speaking as someone that has lost someone to suicide, or someone that has lost two people she cared deeply for to suicide but also as someone who has thought about it and fought through depression more than once. 

I stood on a bridge once when I was 17 and thought about climbing the rails and jumping. I stood there, running my hands over the cold metal and looking down into the waters below me and thought I could just climb over, jump and nothing would hurt anymore. I've always loved bodies of water; they're calming to me. I leaned over the railing, listening to waves crashing and water churning and I felt like pushing myself over it and letting myself drown would be the most fitting way for me to go. I remember thinking it like it was the most logical thing in the world because at the time, I was a mess and just didn't want to live anymore. I was about to climb the rail when a cop car pulled up and the officer got out slowly, calling out to me. I remember how slowly he approached me, how soothing he sounded and how angry I instantly became because I knew he was ruining everything for me. It was late at night and he was curious why a young girl was out so late, by herself, hanging out on the bridge. I knew he knew what I was thinking of doing and he stood there with me, asking me if my family knew where I was at this hour. He made a few jokes and told me I needed to get on home. He followed me as I left. He followed me and made sure I actually went back home. I cried myself to sleep that night because I was so angry and sad and hurt. I cried until I couldn't breath anymore, my face buried in a pillow, my fists clenched and punching the mattress. 

I decided then I couldn't commit suicide. Not because I suddenly wanted to live but because I couldn't do that to my family. I couldn't hurt them that way and I resented them for that. So, my depression got worse, I started drinking more and doing drugs a lot more. I smoked weed and took Xanax I got from a coworker as often as I could. I moved out and moved in with a friend who was a drug addict himself. We had neighbors who were big partiers. I did more drugs. I drank way more. I didn't want to kill myself anymore because I spent so much time high so I wouldn't hurt anymore. Until I came down, felt worse and wanted to die all over again. It was the worst cycle in the world.

I contemplated suicide occasionally still but then I'd just get high or take a few drinks from a bottle and I'd feel "better" again and then I wouldn't think about how I wanted to die anymore. Then one day, I met this guy. He was waiting in an office with me to do a job interview and I remember we were sitting there together, not saying much at all, then he suddenly looked at me and asked, "so why are you so sad?" I remember blinking at this guy a half dozen times trying to figure out what his deal was. He shrugged and said, "I'm a mess, I guess I recognize it in others." I just shrugged. Then this guy starts telling me that he applied for this job because he was starting over. He told me he had been really depressed and had tried to kill himself. He told me he had tried to jump off of a bridge but had figured it wrong and ended up landing wrong, breaking both of his legs instead. He was recovered and it would be the first job he'd had in a while because of that. He waited for me to talk. I just stared at him, goosebumps on my skin, not really capable of saying anything even if I had wanted to. This kid jumped from the same bridge I had only months ago contemplated hurling myself over. I've never believed in coincidences but I couldn't figure this out. We both ended up getting hired and we started working together a week later. He only worked there for six weeks but in that six weeks, he talked to me a lot about suicide and depression. It took me about a month to realize I didn't really want to die anymore. Not just because I didn't want to hurt my family but for a ton of other reasons. I don't even remember his name. I wish I could because I wish I could tell him thank you for saving me from myself. It sounds cliche but I was planning on trying again. I was trying to figure out ways I could do something to where it seemed like an accident and not suicide. My family would still be hurt but it wouldn't be as bad as losing someone to suicide. In the weeks I worked with that guy, he spent a lot of time talking at me, even though I often didn't say anything back to him at all. Then one night, I remember getting high with my then boyfriend and then sobbing into his shirt because I didn't want to die. I remember telling him everything and all he did was hold me while I ugly sobbed and came undone. I stopped thinking I'd be better off dead. Unfortunately it took quite a while longer to stop using drugs to get me through the day. It took years before I stopped abusing substances to make myself feel "better" but I got there, eventually. 

That was the first period of my life where I very seriously considered suicide a viable option and unfortunately, it wasn't the last. However, I'm still here and suicide is not something I entertain the idea of anymore. Currently, I'm struggling with issues that I'm not really ready to openly talk about here yet. I'm not ashamed of them and I'm not too scared to discuss them. I'm just not ready to put it all out there. I feel like when I understand it all better, I'll be more willing to discuss it in a more open venue.

Some days I think about the periods in my life where I thought I should just kill myself and I'd like to punch that silly girl. I'd also like to hug her and let her know how much strength she really had despite how pathetic and weak she thought she was. 

It can get better. Some days, it will suck. Some days, it feels like everything is wrong. Like nothing you do is right. Like nothing is moving forward in a better direction. Those days happen and you can't beat yourself up over them. You can't get stuck in those days.

No matter how alone you feel or how much you feel like absolutely no one in the world could possibly care or understand what you're going through, you are not alone. There are people out there who will understand or at least try to understand. There are people out there who will offer you empathy and support because they genuinely want you to feel better. Those people could be friends, family members, professional health care workers, a trusted co-worker, someone in an online support group or a stranger on the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Hell, you can email me and I'll talk to you. Just talk to someone. Suffering in silence doesn't help. You deserve better than that. You're worth more than that. 

Getting help doesn't make you weak. You don't have to be ashamed or afraid. You're not wrong. You're not broken. You're not beyond repair. Your mental illness and issues do not define who you are as a person. Whatever you're facing, it can get better.

Death Of A Loved One.

“That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.” -Sarah Dessen

Today marks the third year since my grandfather passed away. I didn't think I'd cry today because the days leading up to it, I was fine, unlike the previous two years. I thought that meant I must finally be okay with it. I know I'll always miss him but I thought maybe I was finally to a point where I wouldn't cry over it anymore. I woke up this morning and I heard thunder and pouring rain. That seemed fitting and comforting because the sound of a storm always comforts me. I laid in bed and thought of thunderstorms that happened while at my grandparents house and how sometimes, they'd let us go out and play in the rain if it wasn't a dangerous storm. I smiled and got up to start my day. I felt the familiar dull ache I always feel in my chest when I think of him being gone but still, I didn't think I'd cry. 

I hate to cry and I rarely do it. It's not that it makes me feel weak or silly or anything like that and I don't actively try to prevent it from happening. It just takes a lot to bring me to tears. I used to feel bad about that because I felt like something was wrong with me. I've moved passed that. If it happens, I let it happen. I just dislike feeling that vulnerable, that open, even if I'm by myself. I also never feel better after I cry. I know so many people that talk about how cathartic crying is but I don't feel that. I always feel worse and I'm not sure why. 

So today when I heard a song that's about a man singing about his pain and grief over losing the man he loved and respected and trying to cope with that, I didn't try to stop the tears that spilled from my eyes and streamed down my face. I was happy I was in line at the bank drive-thru at the time and not back at the shop because crying in front of people is awkward. I didn't try to stop myself from crying again when I was putting my groceries in my car after work and I happened to look up and oddly see an older gentleman who looked a lot like my grandfather. As much as I hate crying and even though it doesn't really ever make me feel better, holding it in is much worse.

I think too many people get caught up in trying to move on and file away their sad feelings into a place where they can't bother them anymore. Maybe that works for them. That's all you can do, be honest with yourself and find what works for you and do it. Myself, I can't always focus on the good things and sometimes, I need to be sad about something. It's okay to get sad once in a while over losing someone you love, no matter how many years have passed. You can't let that grief and sadness consume you because it will act like a wildfire in dry brush, it was spread quickly and overwhelm you. It will swallow you whole and won't think twice about it. There's a balance and sometimes it's a very delicate line. 

People always say that time will heal all wounds. That time passing is all that really helps you move on from losing someone you love. In part, that's true. It doesn't happen over night. It never happens as quickly as we like it to. It took me a year before I could change the phone contacts in my cell phone from "grandma and grandpa" to just "grandma." It took me even long to stop referring to it as "grandma and grandpa's" house when I'd say that's where I was going. He died June 9th (which unfortunately also happens to be one of my brother's birthdays) and Father's Day in 2011 happened 10 days later. That year, seeing all the "grandfather" cards out for Father's Day felt like a harsh kick to the gut and I ended up leaving Target a sobbing mess because it hurt to much to think about him being gone. A year later, it was a weird realization that I wouldn't need a Father's Day card for him because holy damn it had been a whole year already. I read some anyway and remember getting sad because I'd never need another card for him again. I'd never get another hug after he read whatever sweet but cheesy thing that card said. Sometimes, it's weird things that set you off. Time does make it easier because those things that felt gut wrenching the first few months on up to the first year didn't sting as sharply. You don't cry as easily. You still miss them but the mass that's made up of all the pain and grief is smaller, duller, not as bright, not as sharp.

It's good to focus on the happy things and the good memories you have of someone and I'm lucky to have a lot of good memories and things to laugh and smile about. Sharing stories and memories helps. It brings you closer to the other people who loved the one you loved. You bond in a way that you don't bond with anyone else because you're sharing thoughts and feelings that they truly understand. It's good to remember the positives but it doesn't fully take away the pain of losing them, doesn't help the ache you feel inside when you miss them and doesn't fix the piece of you that feels like it's gone now. I've come to realize that just because the wound of losing a loved one is healed doesn't mean it never hurts you anymore. You just get better at living with it.

“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.” -Lemony Snicket

Blah blah blah.

• I talked in my last post about participating in the Walk To End Alzheimer's walk at the end of last month. I ended up raising a total of $850 and had a nice time at the actual walk. It was an interesting experience and I'm looking forward to participating again next year.

•   NHL hockey season is back in the swing of things and that's always awesome. The Stars home opener was meh but the next game on that Saturday against Washington was awesome. Being back in the arena to watch the Stars always bring me joy.  Speaking of joy through hockey.... My youngest brother plays hockey pretty much all year with minimal breaks in between seasons so I'm watching him play all year. This year he made Junior Varsity for his highschool team and will also be playing a few Varsity games as well. He's also playing in another house league that his JV coach also happens to coach. He tried out and there was only one slot open and he's the one who made it. It's been fantastic watching him improve and move forward and I'm so proud of him.

• Working in a bakery is seriously maddening at times. I wish my boss would tell people during interviews that it's not going to be anything like what they see on reality TV baking shows. We hire so many people who don't realize how much work it actually is and the majority of them always mention they watched this show or that show and didn't realize it was hectic, stressful and a lot of work. Which I don't get but the high turnover rate we have because of people not being prepared to actually face a steady stream of tasks suggests it's a difficult concept to people who spend too much time thinking reality TV is exact. Though, I enjoy working with most of the people I work with. They're all a little weird and crazy and it's the first job I've had where I actually fit in and most of my co-workers don't think I'm the "weird one" because, well, we're all weird ones there. Or "quirky" if you listen to the lady who doesn't like to use the word weird because she thinks it implies a very negative feel but I digress. I work with some pretty awesome people and that helps tons when working in a busy, sometimes chaotic, rather stressful environment. 

• I got a slow cooker given to me by my mom and a smaller one given to me by my grandmother. I've used the slow cooker a couple times in the many months I've had them. I really just don't know what to put in there and I don't mind cooking dinner after work most days. Though, as soon as the weather gets cool enough, I can see how it'll get more use for soups and stews. Though it's still feeling like Summer here so that won't be for another couple months maybe. Hopefully less. I just can't get excited about stew or a bowl of soup when it's still almost 90 degrees outside. 

That's all I've got for now. I was going to write some deep and personal stuff but then I decided I'd rather keep that stuff to myself for a little bit longer. Or a lot longer. Or forever. So, boring life update instead since I decided to keep the personal stuff unwritten.

You'll be missed.

I hate writing about sad stuff but I need to get this out somewhere. I'm not good at talking about things like this and honestly don't have that many people I can talk to anyway. Writing always helps when words fail me verbally though.

These amazing photos of bears in the wild were taken by a talented and wonderful man, Philip Perdue.

I met Philip because he was friends with my boyfriend Shane and had been for years. Phil was one of the first member of Shane's car club that made me feel welcome and included me into their diverse group of members.

His talent with photography and the often very amusing stories that went along with the photos he took were one of the things I liked most about him. He had a passion for capturing the world through photograph and he was good at it.

I admired how upbeat & optimistic he was no matter what life tossed at him. He had some things he was fighting through and some days were enough to put most people into grumpy spirits. He rarely let anything get him down, though.

He had a great sense of humor. A little (ok a lot) weird at times but the man never failed to make me and those around him laugh their asses off.

As a free spirit myself, I can always recognize and appreciate that in someone else. I admired that in him.

Phil was one of the most genuinely nice guys anyone could ever be fortunate enough to know.
He was the kind of guy always ready to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed one without ever keeping score or expecting anything in return. He had such kind heart and so much joy to give.

Last night as I was getting off of a long 10 hour shift at work, my boyfriend called me from work crying. I was automatically worried something was wrong with him but he had just found out from a good mutual friend he shared with Phil that Phil had died unexpectedly. I was stunned to say the least. We had just gone through the death of a family friend a little over a week ago when the mother of one of the goalies on my brother's hockey team passed away unexpectedly and now this. I stayed on the phone with my boyfriend the remainder of his break then just sat in my car letting the news about Phil sink in. I ended up driving around a little bit then went to the boyfriend's job so I could be with him on his lunch break to offer comfort and maybe a few laughs. I didn't cry until I got home that night. I pulled into the driveway and the sky was so pretty with a few stars barely peeking through clouds. I thought of Phil and how much he loved photography and of a conversation we had about how gorgeous the night skies in Northern California were on clear nights. Then I sat there sobbing and realizing I'd never see him again. I'd never have another conversation, never hear his goofy laugh, never hear another story about a trip he went on to take amazing photos with crazy mishaps. Shane had wanted him to be the photographer at our wedding (we do plan to get married eventually) but now he won't be there walking around smiling his big goofy grin with his camera, making jokes and capturing so many moments through photograph.

He was always so friendly and genuinely nice to everyone. Until you did wrong to anyone he cared for, then he wasn't such a gentle teddy bear. He was loved and liked by so many, he will be greatly missed.

I'll miss that quirky little man with the big heart and goofy grin.

RIP Phil.

Reminders, Rambles & Rants....

I feel like rambling to clear some thoughts out. Or as some people who remember the story about my friend's relative, "Clearing some monkeys out of the attic." So ramble I shall! After this...

As a reminder, there is less than a month left to donate to the Toys for Tots blogger fundraiser. Cut off for paypal donations is December 14th.

The Target gift card contest lasts the duration of the fundraiser so you have until December 14th also to gain an entry or two or five to try and win that. A donation isn't necessary to get an entry but is appreciated and $5 is the minimum donation for an entry for the gift card if you want to make one. Check out the details here. 

And ramble ramble ramble....

I don't really understand a couple popular expressions I hear people use a lot. "You know you're getting older when...." or "You know you're from [insert city/state here] when...." OR anything like those two. I know I'm getting older because I get how time works and days keep going by and those birthday things keep happening. I'm not made aware of the fact that everyone gets a little older every single day by some obscure fact or occurrence. I'm also really aware of where I'm from without some random little tidbit to tie it to. Which tends to usually be some stupid generalization anyway.

I realized recently that I have an irrational hatred for wind chimes. I realized this at my boyfriend's mother's house because she has tons of them all over the place. Maybe it's not a single wind chime I hate but tons of them. They each make their own unique sounds which can be pretty. When there's multiple going with their unique sounds all going together? It drives me insane, I can't stand that noise. Pus it always bugs me when they start moving around when there's not any air flow changes I can feel. Also, I just really don't like the things.

A couple days back, a guy outside of the grocery store was stopping people because he was selling Twinkies for $25 a box. I don't eat Twinkies. I think they're disgusting. I don't eat any little snack cake or donut product either because I'm just not a fan of junk like that. I don't really get the insanity people are feeling over this. It's a fucking snack cake, not an important necessity that you literally cannot live without.I get there's things you get attached to but being willing to pay that much money for a box of snack cakes is ridiculous.

I don't think people realize that having tinted windows on their car doesn't make them invisible in there. Unless they're super dark, almost illegal or actually illegal dark. Then you're fine. Most people? You're not invisible in there. Or maybe people just get really lost in there like they're in the privacy of some little world and don't think about people being able to see inside their car when they're walking by or sitting at the same light for a prolonged amount of time. People do some really gross things in their cars. Window tint is not an invisibility cloak for your car.

I hate when people get their undies in a bunch when I don't text them back immediately. I work a lot. I'm busy a lot. I have a lot going on. I can't and won't always stop in the middle of everything just to respond back to a text message. I guess most people will do that but I won't. And if you text me while I'm driving, I'm not replying to it until I'm stopped or done driving. It's never over anything important. Phone calls are for important things. Getting mad at me because I didn't text you back fast enough to help you decide what to have for lunch? Ridiculous.

A little girl that came into my job yesterday asked me why water wasn't purple or lime green then proceeded to tell me why she would be willing to drink more water if it were purple or lime green. Her mom told her she would start putting food coloring in her water. The little girl told her that would be cheating and she didn't want any poison color water, only natural colored water. A short while later, a little boy came in with his dad and told me that he didn't like the bells on our Christmas boxes because bells reminded him of balls. He also told me that he had small balls but that dad told him they would get bigger and hairy one day. He doesn't want hair because hair is itchy. His dad looked mortified and told him to play the quiet game for the rest of their short visit to pick up their goodies. And lastly for the parade of interesting kids yesterday, a mom with four kids came in. The little boys shook my hand because they're "learning to be little gentlemen" and the little girl told me, "I can't shake your hand, I have a butt finger. My finger was in my butt!" She wouldn't stop giggling over that which made one of her brother's start giggling and tell me that he had his finger up his nose then his but so I had touched his nosy butt finger. Their mother laughed hard over that then apologized for her kids behavior and told me I'd understand when I had some of my own. I said I didn't ever plan on having kids personally. She looked at me like I said I'd shot her grandma or something. Which I'm used to since it's a typical reaction to someone announcing they don't ever want to have kids which I've done every time someone has broached the subject of having kids with me for the last, oh, 14 years now.

I'm super excited for Thanksgiving tomorrow because it's the first time I get to make more than just one or two items for the big family dinner. Usually by the time I ask about helping, everyone else already has everything covered and I get to make one maybe two things. I get to make four this year. I know a lot of people find having to cook like that stressful and unpleasant but I love to cook and I love cooking big meals for people. It's a challenge to get it all done and I love a good challenge. Especially one in the kitchen.

I'm done now. If anyone read all of that or even skimmed most of it, thank you. ;)

HAPPY WEDNESDAY!

It's been a year since he died..

Today is the birthday of one of my younger brothers. He turns 26 today. I turn 27 on June 15th making me not even a full year older than he is. He lives in Northern California so I won't see him today. I can't exactly remember the last time we celebrated birthdays together though it was at some point when I lived out in California years ago. 

Today is also the date that makes it one year since our grandfather passed away. I remember sitting in my aunt's living room, we knew his time was getting closer and all I could hope for was that he would pass before midnight struck on the 8th or hold on for another day so he didn't pass on my brother's birthday. I know it seems like a silly thing to hope for but no one wants the day of their birth, a day most people celebrate, to be a day that is also marked as the loss of someone you love who was an important person in your life. You can celebrate their life, remember the good times, all that stuff but it still hurts. There's no amount of happy memories and laughter that can fill that void where that person used to be. Those things just make it easier to deal with.


I sat in my aunt's living room and after the clock was passed midnight, I knew it wouldn't be much longer. Maybe I was just bracing myself for it to happen, I don't know. I didn't sleep much. I was tired but I felt restless. Around 6 AM, we got the news, he was gone. I remember feeling like I needed to cry but being unable to. In a way, I was happy he wasn't in pain anymore and it was hard at that moment to be sad about him dying because I knew he wasn't suffering anymore for the first moment in a long time.I went outside and watched the sun rise for the first time in a long time. I remember I kept thinking that maybe I was dreaming because everything felt so surreal right then. I was thinking that maybe this wasn't really happening, maybe I'd wake up and everything would be fine. It didn't take long for me to snap out of that and fall in to feeling numb. I didn't want to cry or feel sad so I just tried to feel nothing and focused more on other things. I do that a lot. I'm not an overly emotional person and dealing with emotions that aren't anger is so hard for me. Being emotional around other people, even if it's family, is also very hard for me. I have a hard time opening up like that. 


I really can't believe it's been a year. It gotten easier to deal with as more time went by, though. I know most people don't see their grandparents often but I grew up seeing mine often and they were both a big influence on my life. I grew up looking up to my grandpa. I admired him so much. I don't cry much over his passing anymore but I've never been much of a crier. I do still occasionally get hit with sadness and it always happens over things that I wouldn't expect to make me think of and miss him.

Sometimes when I find myself missing him, I sit out on front porch and just look out at the stars and clear my head or think about happy memories I have with him. And I have so many good memories with him. He used to sit out on the porch all the time and I used to like to sit out there with him when I was taking a break from playing or doing something. Sometimes we talked, sometimes we would just sit quietly. Granted, the sitting quietly never lasted long for me. I learned more from him than I ever realized and more than he probably ever thought he'd passed on to me. He was a great man and I'm happy I was lucky enough to have him be such a part of my life. I still miss him but then again I probably always will.

10 months ago today, we lost you...

Today makes it 10 months since my grandpa died. He had so many things he battled through and overcame. War. Cancer. Alzheimer's though, he couldn't shake that, sadly. It's horrible to watch someone you love be slowly taken over by such a horrible disease.

When I started thinking about it today, I had the idea to make it a blog post so I'd have somewhere to voice all the thoughts I was having. Now that I'm sitting here typing this, it's difficult to find the words I want to share. The thoughts are still there, it's just sharing them, typing them out? It seems so odd still to write about how I feel now that he's gone. There are things I want to say, things I feel would help me if I could say them out loud but, I can't bring myself to because they seem so personal. Like they're meant to just be my thoughts or memories, not to be shared with anyone, even though I think it would help to voice some of those feelings.

I have a few things of his that are mine now. My grandma wanted us all to have something of his. I have the watch he wore every day. I remember days where I'd sit in his lap in the recliner in his house and I'd randomly ask him what time it was. He'd show me that watch and ask me what time it was. I remember how grown up and special it seemed to me then to wear a watch and was excited when my mom let me get my first watch. She probably doesn't even remember it but I do. It was a cheap little watch, the type with the plastic clasp and rubber band with a cartoon character on it. Now I have that watch I show him wear every time I saw him. The watch I always asked to look at because the face was so big and it seemed so fancy to me at the time because I didn't have anything like it. It mostly stays in it's box now but sometimes I take it out. I've worn it a few times but it doesn't fit well and the face takes up most of my wrist. Sometimes when I really miss him, it helps to wear it. I think because it just brings back happy memories of him for me.

Another thing she gave me where a pair of his cufflinks. He had so many pairs and they're all so pretty. The pair she gave me have a pair of gemstones in them, tiger's eye to be exact. They're very pretty. They also just sit in their box but sometimes I like to look at them. I remember when he used to dress nice for family events. He usually just wore coveralls all the time so when he was dressed in something different, it was always a little surprising to me. I'd always expect him to come over and be in those coveralls but when he was dressed up, he looked like a snazzy business man to me.

We spent so much time there growing up. They visited often. I grew up thinking for a while that every kid saw their grandparents as much as we did. I learned pretty quickly that wasn't the case and that not every kid even liked to have theirs around. Mine, I loved having around and was always happy when they came to visit for the day or came to take my brother and I home for the weekend. Or longer during Spring Break and Summer.

My grandma wasn't strict but she had certain things she didn't like us getting in to. One of the things was a little wooden train that sit in the floor with a couple other things. She used to hate us playing with that little wooden train. It wasn't a toy but myself and all the grand kids like to play with it. I always had a love for locomotives so I especially loved playing with it. We'd drag it out when grandma wasn't around, trying not to get caught with it. Then we usually did. Then she'd tell us that it wasn't a toy and to put it back up. Then always, right on cue, grandpa would interject and tell her to leave me or whomever was playing with it alone. She'd say it's not a toy. He'd say, "it's just a wooden train, let 'em alone with it." And she did.

I know I'll always miss him. Especially since he was such a part of my life and I looked up to and respected him so much. I miss our chats on the front porch. I miss his random comments when no one thought he was paying attention to the conversation. I miss his blunt honesty. I miss hugging him and hearing him call me sugar. He's the only person who could get away with calling me that because from anyone else, I can't stand that pet name. I at least have a lot of happy memories with him and can focus on those when I'm sad and thinking about him. And mostly, I know he's not confused and in pain and suffering anymore. I know he'll never read this but I always hope I did a good enough job of letting him know that I appreciated and loved him very much. I don't torture myself with thinking about things I could have done or times I could have spent because at the end, you'll always find things you should have or could have done differently. All you can do is hopefully be happy with what was done and I really am. So while I'm sad and thinking about him today more than other days where I think about and miss him, I'm also a little happy, too. Emotions really are such a complex thing.

Dallas Stars, family stuff & on I ramble...

My dad moved back from California. He got back to Texas yesterday, UHAUL hauling all his belongings (and some of mine, my mom's and my siblings belongings from YEARS AGO) and his truck. Now I can see him more than just a few days out of the year. He moved to California 8 years ago and I've had a couple of brief stints with living out there but never for very long. My other younger brother is now the only person in my family still living out there.

The Stars won in regulation against the Canucks. They won all three games on their Canadian road trip and they've had a hell of a run the last couple of weeks. They're first place in the Pacific Division and 3rd place in the Western Conference currently. I hope they keep this going. It's been far too long since I was last able to go to a Stars playoff game. ;)

I need to find someone new to go to Stars games with me. I usually just go with the boyfriend but there are times he has work and can't go. Then there are times like tomorrow where his work gets a suite for the game and he gets to go with them. And I can't go since I don't work for the awesome company that he works for and it's one of their "bonding/togetherness" things they're trying to work on doing more of to help the teamwork aspect come together more. The other 3 people who were my game buddies have all moved in various directions that are too far to take in Stars games anymore in the last few months. Although, I could just go to a game by myself once in a while. I might try that Thursday and see how that goes. I do plenty of other stuff by myself and don't give it a second thought, so why not this? We'll see.

I got my menu finished for that whole business thing I've got going on for me lately. Which is also why if you follow my Twitter or Tumblr, you may have noticed an increased amount of food pictures. And I don't even post pictures of everything I make! I'm not eating all of that or just making it for fun. It's a little side project now but it's growing into something more slowly and I'm getting excited about it the more work I get to do with it. I love baking and love being creative with things I make. And to be able to make some extra cash doing something I really enjoy is awesome. Of course, it will be more awesome once that goes from an extra cash thing to a full on income thing. Which is what I'm working toward. It's a lot of work but I'm quite determined. :)

This passed weekend, my youngest brother had hockey games on Saturday, Sunday and Monday night. His team won all three. Saturday they won 7-2, Sunday they shut out one of the best teams in their league 5-0 and Monday night they beat the best team in their league 4-2. They've been playing so well lately and it's great to see how much their confidence grows after each game. It's also cool seeing them all so happy after so many good games lately considering the horrible start they had to their season. I'm also proud of my brother for being so dedicated to his sport. I have so much fun watching him play and I enjoy seeing him do something that makes him happy. Also, I just really love hockey. Though watching him play does make me miss playing myself, haha.

In further boring news, I found a way that successfully gets rid of my hiccups. I always have to just let them run their course most of the time because nothing usually works for me. Which is annoying because for some reason, hiccups are really painful for me. I found that holding my nose and slowly drinking about 5 or 6 ounces of water without stopping or pausing does the trick. So you know, if you've never tried that and nothing else works, give it a shot. I don't understand why having involuntary esophageal contraction of the diaphragm is even a necessary thing people have to deal with. And yes, I did want to write about hiccups in part just so I could use the word "esophageal" because I like that word and rarely get to use it. So, there. I also wanted to share my hiccup trick in attempt to possibly be helpful, though. ;)

Boobs are awesome.

Some people's inability to be punctual to anything, ever, drives me fucking crazy. I HATE being late and always feel like an asshole when I do show up late to something without an actual good reason for it. I rarely show up anywhere late but that's beside the point. How hard is it to be a few minutes early or right on time? It's not. I get when it's something you can't control like a flat tire, having to stay late at work, really bad traffic, blah blah blah. But people who are just late all the time? KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF. It's rude. And annoying.

Sometimes I like to throw random sentences in to see if people are paying attention. However, those statements are usually true. As true as someone's opinion can be, anyway. ;)

I've rambled on enough now. I feel like I cleared some real estate up which I'm sure won't last long before more thoughts and random junk move in to take up residence. I think way too much sometimes. Though writing does always help when I'm feeling anxious and can't sleep because my mind seems too full. If that makes sense. Anyway.... :)

Happy Wednesday!

Clearing out some monkey's from the attic...

• I hate the phrase "brain dump" for some reason. I'm not really sure what about it I don't like but I'm not a fan. Though, I don't really have a better snappy little phrase for it. Maybe I'll come up with one. Or not. A friend of mine's grandmother always has the oddest little phrases for things. Her phrase for a "brain dump" is "clearing out some monkey's from the attic." I've heard her use it many times but it still makes me laugh every time she says it or I think about it. It's not overly funny honestly. The way she says it is amusing. My friend asked her once what it meant or if she had any reasoning behind saying it. She replied, "Reasoning? Fuck if I know. You want a reason? Alright, I'm old and I say what I want and I think it sounds frogdamn cute. And if you had some monkeys in the attic, my guess is you would want those shit flinging bastards out of there. Thoughts taking up needless space in your mind are like those shit flinging monkeys, they got to go because if you leave 'em there unattended they're just going to stink the place up." That's not a typo, she says "frogdamn" and "frogdammit" quite often. :)
  

• Making a status update literally every 10 to 15 minutes about how much fun you're having at a party is pretty telling on the fun you're not really having. There's a story there but I'm not getting into all the details of it. I'll say someone I know is trying to make an ex jealous by posting 4 or 5 status updates an hour whenever she's out at a bar, event, with friends, at a party, etc talking about how fun it is, how many hot guys are hitting on her, etc. This has been going on for a little over a week now, every damn day. I don't even check Facebook regularly and it's driving me crazy. She asked me about it last night, my opinion on if I thought she looked stupid and obvious, and I answered honestly. Huge blowup ensued and it got ugly. Anyway. :)

• My dad is coming for a visit! He gets in town tonight and is leaving on Tuesday. I'm excited since I haven't seen him since September last year. One of the big reasons he's coming in to town is because my youngest brother is playing a hockey game at the American Airlines Center on Sunday. He's super excited. Hell, I'd be excited, too. He gets to dress in the same locker room as the Dallas Stars, walk their tunnel, set on the same bench they do and play a game on the ice in the building they play in. That's pretty badass. I'm happy dad will be here to see that and I'm excited for my brother, I know he's excited for it. :D

• I have occasional bouts with insomnia. Which I'm going through currently. It sucks. I literally can't sleep until I'm exhausted to the point of not being able to physically stay awake anymore and then I don't sleep for long and it's a restless sleep. I don't take sleep aids because honestly, none of the several I have tried worked for me. On the plus side of that, with nothing to do late at night, I've gotten a ridiculous amount of writing done for a project I'm working on. I was worried about making my deadline at first and now I'm close to done with almost 3 weeks left still.
  

• I like to look for the silver lining in everything. ;) I don't always find one but sometimes I do and that makes sucky things, well, suck less.
  

• I'm excited for the Stars game on Saturday. I got tickets to the game as one of Shane's (the boyfriend has a name!) Christmas presents. I also got him tickets to the Lightning game on the 20th as well as some DVDs. He's so easy to buy for. Hockey tickets are always an acceptable and very much loved gift and I always benefit from that one, too. I got an extra ticket to Saturday's game so he could bring someone else, too. He's bringing a co-worker who likes hockey but I don't think she's ever been to a game before. I'm so glad he picked her because we've hung out before and she's super cool. I always get excited when I meet a new girl I can actually get along with because I don't tend to get along with girls very often. The last game we went to was on New Years Eve (you know, that one where the Stars outplayed the Bruins and won 2-4? ;D) so it feels like it's been forever since the last game I was at. I do realize two weeks isn't forever or even that long at all but it feels like longer than it really is. :p

• One of my biggest pet peeves is not having consideration for others. I don’t think everyone needs to be prim and proper but most people need to get slapped with basic manners so hard that they never forget those basic manners, ever.

• Here recently, I've gotten quite a few messages on Tumblr about gay marriage and why I support it. I have a feeling it's probably the same person but since whomever it is poses their questions under "anonymous" I have no way of knowing. Since my last two responses (here and here), the messages have gone from questions to outright hate mail, basically. I had 12 messages waiting for me in my inbox yesterday when I logged in. I deleted them all because they were rude, hateful and I saw no reason to respond to any of the garbage in there. They weren't questions or even just disagreeing with me, they were just name calling and talking shit. I can accept that people don't agree with my opinions on things. I also accept that as someone who is open about beliefs and rather vocal about the things I support, I'm going to have to deal with trolls like this one. I just think it's stupid. I'm hoping ignoring them will make them move on. That usually works. Until then, I'll just keep deleting all the name calling and anti-gay bullshit they throw my way.

• People that do nice things for others "just because" without ulterior motives or expectations are awesome. People that do nice things for others "just because" only in hopes that they'll get something out of it presently or in the future fucking suck. People that do nice things for others "just because" but throw it in your face later on to try and use as a guilt trip or a manipulation tool really, really fucking suck. If you do that, you're an asshole.
  

• Also? I'm not overly rebellious or defiant for the sake of not being told what to do (though I'm not the biggest fan of people telling me what to do, lol) but when someone tries to guilt trip me into something, it pisses me off and makes me not want to do it that much more. Even if it's something I'm iffy on doing, guilt trip me and that's it, not happening.

Looking at my blog stats recently, on top of comments and emails from you guys, it's ridiculous how many people come here and read the stuff I type out into the blogosphere. Ridiculous in a good way, mind you. Thanks so much for reading and thanks for those that leave comments and/or send emails or respond to stuff via Twitter. Y'all are awesome. ;)

Happy Thursday!

Excuse me while I get emotional...

Excuse me if I end up rambling and not making much sense or repeating myself at all the further into the post you get. I'm a bit emotional and I can't really get my thoughts and words to cooperate with one another for the sake of being articulate. I need to write this out and emotions are messy, ugly things sometimes which I'm sure will be reflected in this rambling post. Anyway...

I was talking to a friend yesterday about Christmas type stuff. She asked me how my blog's fundraiser was coming along and I admitted it hadn't gone as well as the first two years. I wondered in part if that's because I just wasn't putting as much effort into it as I had the previous two years but that's not the case. Though, I almost didn't do it this year because when I thought about it, it seemed like I might not be able to get into the spirit of doing it. But, I'm glad I did because it's given me something good to focus on and doing it really does make me so happy and I needed something to be happy about during the holiday season. I love helping people and through this, a lot of families will get help during their financially rough holiday season. (Which by the way, there are only 11 days left to donate to the Toys for Tots fundraiser.) That conversation led us to the topic of presents for our friends and loved ones. We were talking about what we planned to get our families and in my case what I had already gotten for mine since I'm almost done with my gift shopping already. I really just wanted to get it over with and out of the way with as quickly as possible. Then we started talking house decorations and such. I started thinking about how this would be my first Christmas without Grandpa here. I forgot what I said exactly but it was something to do with decorations and my grandparents house.

Which caused this response from my friend....

"You know, you still always refer to it as your grandparent's house or your grandma and grandpa's place, right? But it's been almost 6 months since he died, don't you think you should just refer to it as your grandma's house by now?"

And the thing is, she wasn't trying to be rude or an ass. She was just asking because she was generally curious if I realized I still did that. And I hadn't really realized that because it was just the way I phrased it out of habit. She didn't even realize it might be an insensitive thing to say until I started crying. Then she was freaking out, apologizing and then crying herself because she felt so bad. She's never had anyone close to her die before. Her worse experience with death so far in life has been having to say goodbye to a few goldfishes before.

Maybe I should stop referring to it as "their" house but I don't. I still think of it as their house even though he passed away this summer. They lived there before I was born. It was their house long before I was even thought of, before my parents even knew each other. That's the house I spent many weekends, Spring Breaks, weeks at a time during Summer break and so on and so forth in. It's a place I grew up at and a place I spent a lot of time at. And it was "their" house for my entire life up until this passed June when he passed away, in that house. I spent 25 years spending time in that house and I've always referred to it as "grandma and grandpa's house" or "my grandparents house" and I cant seem to wrap my head around getting myself to think of it differently, even though he's been gone for almost half a year.

When I go visit my grandma, I say just that, that I'm going to visit her. It's not like I haven't accepted he's gone. It would be hard to be in denial about that after seeing his lifeless body at his viewing. I understand he's gone. I go visit my grandma and I still see so much of him there. Pictures, his chair, his room, his bed and tons of other things I've always associated with him. It's hard not to think of it as "their" home when there's sill so much of him there, including the urn that has his ashy remains in them, lol.

A few people told me the holidays would be hard. I thought that it would be difficult but I didn't really understand how it would feel. I got mad at myself on Thanksgiving because I found myself standing in my aunt's kitchen cooking and wishing he would be there to eat the macaroni and cheese I was making from scratch because he liked it so much. I almost cried while I was standing there melting the cheeses because I just missed him so much at that moment and wished he could be there for it. Then I was angry at myself for being upset because I sometimes feel like it shouldn't hurt so much still. And even though I know that's silly, I was grateful for that because I hate crying in front of people and that anger at myself kept me from bawling into the mac and cheese in front of my family. And I was happy for that for another reason; because it was my grandmother and my mom and my aunts and he was their father and they weren't crying. Maybe they wanted to but they were holding it together and making the best of the day even though I knew my grandmother was hurting horribly. I didn't want to be the one that set everyone else into a depressing mood or a crying fit.

Now as it's Christmas this and Christmas that all over the place, it's hard. I look at the Christmas tree we have in our living room and I remember the last cute little tree they had at their house and I wonder if my grandma will even bother with putting one up this year. I wonder if she'll stay with my mom and aunt or my other aunt for a few days so she doesn't have to be alone on the holiday. I thought about how I wouldn't have to get him any of the things he always wanted every year for Christmas but when I go somewhere and see any one of his favorite things, I wish I had a reason to buy any or all of them still. It hurts in such a deep aching way and sometimes, I don't know how to deal with it. I feel grateful that he's gone because he's not suffering in any way any longer. I want to laugh and smile because I feel so lucky to have had him around for so long, to have had such a good relationship with him, for him caring so much for us and for the good memories I have with him. And I want to cry because I miss him and it hurts that he's not around anymore.

I remember Christmas when I was 10. We lived in this two story house that had a tiny little front porch on it that held two chairs. My grandpa always sat outside on the porch for a while. He liked to just sit out there and watch the world go by and think. I remember that year I sat outside with him in a Tasmanian Devil t-shirt, a hideously ugly jacket that I thought was awesome at the time and track pants with a Santa hat on and asked him why he liked sitting outside so much when it was so cold. He said being outside was calming, relaxing. It was quiet and there was just nature and his thoughts if he wanted to think or reflect. Being out in the open air, seeing the trees, the grass and smelling those things was a nice place to be. I remember pointing out that it was icy and cold and you couldn't really smell anything besides cold. He laughed and asked me what I thought cold smelled like. I said ice cubes and he did a little half smile and agreed with me. Then I just sat out there with him for a long time and didn't say anything else until we went in to eat.

And it's memories like those that I try to focus on right now because I have plenty of good memories of him. And plenty of great ones from all the Christmases he was around for. The thing about focusing on the happy times though is knowing you'll never have more like them but trying to be thankful and happy that you had them in the first place. I often end up sad whilst thinking of good memories of him I have just because it makes me miss him. Sometimes I end up crying and a times it's out of pain and sadness, other times it's more of a happy yet bittersweet feeling.

Death is such a weird fucking thing to deal with.

The holidays are rough sometimes...

I'm feeling kind of odd about Thanksgiving. My grandfather died this summer, in early June. I saw him often and grew up seeing my grandparents all the time and spending lots of weekends and stuff with them. It's been hard coping at time with the fact that he's not around. Saturday, I went to my grandma's house with my mom and two youngest siblings. We helped her with the yard work because grandpa always kept up with it and she's not much for it. It was fun and felt good being outside and doing it together but I kept thinking about various things. Like growing up and watching my grandpa do the yard work. Or going back into his shed to pull out various tools we needed and thinking about how huge that shed had seemed when I was a little kid but how small it seems now. I stood in there for a minute looking at everything and felt sad knowing he'd never step in there again, those tools that were once all in a certain spot just "where ever" now because other family members who used them just put them back in no certain order. After the yard work, we played games while watching the Stars game on TV. No comments from the recliner in the corner of the living room during the game, he's not there to make comments about anything anymore.

We also talked about what the plans for Thanksgiving would be. Grandma isn't much on cooking because grandpa really enjoyed cooking. He did a lot of the cooking for Thanksgiving. Grandma never learned to do a turkey or a chicken because he always handled it. And in her words, "I'm in my 80's and don't care to learn the proper way to cook a damn turkey anyway." I hadn't even thought of it until she mentioned the cooking thing but this will be the first Thanksgiving I'll have been home for that I won't be eating something he cooked. I won't be watching him cook or pestering him for anything.

It's the little things like those things that really make me sad. Like having Thanksgiving dinner without him. Not having him at the table for any sarcastic remarks about anything. He didn't say a lot at times but when he did say something, it was worth hearing and really listening to. Up until the last couple years when he fell in and out of knowing what was really going on. Alzheimer's is a bitch and I don't wish anyone to every have to go through that or watch someone they love go through it. Everyone says the first year is the hardest when someone you're close to dies because it's hard to adjust to them not being around for all the big events and holidays they've always been around for. I'm doing better with it but it's still rough and I miss him.

We're spending Thanksgiving at my aunt's house in East Texas this year, which will be a first. Grandma said she didn't want it at her place because she couldn't stand to be there without him being there. An aunt had a suggestion to just go to a restaurant but my grandma doesn't do well around noisy places and I'm seriously hate the idea of going out to dinner on Thanksgiving anyway. So we're doing it at my aunt's house instead. I know there will inevitably be some sadness but I'm hoping everyone will focus more on the present and the good memories we all have of passed years. Whenever I get upset or feel sad or just miss him, that's what I like to do. I think about a happy memory of him or some of the good times we had. Which makes me miss him but it also makes me feel better at the same time.

I hope no matter where you go or what you'll be doing this year (if you celebrate) that you'll take a moment and be happy for all that you have. And I hope everyone has an enjoyable holiday celebration around people they care about. Though I know sometimes, that's a hell of a lot easier said than done because no one can drive you crazy like your own damn family can. :)

Okay that's enough rambling from me. One more thing really quick, though. I know y'all are probably sick of seeing it but that's too bad, I am annoying when it comes to raising money for causes/charities I take part in. :) There's just a few weeks left to donate to my Toys For Tots Fundraiser. It doesn't take much to help out! The majority of the donations I've received have been for $5 to $10. Every little bit helps and it's for a great cause. Click the link to check out the post to see more information, passed fundraisers and see the pictures! So, donate if you can please and feel free to post about this on twitter, your blog, tumblr, facebook; whatever social media you spend time online. It would be much appreciated. And thanks so much to those who have donated. :)

Happy Wednesday!!!

It's been three months since he died...

Today makes it three months since my grandfather passed away. Anyone who read that post or anyone who has followed me or known me long enough knows how important he was to me.

I know how lucky I was to have such a good relationship with him and I am thankful for that and thankful for all the good memories of him I have.

It's still hard to think of him as being gone, though. Since he passed three months ago we went through what would have been my grandparents 64th wedding anniversary (less than a month after he passed), my grandmother's birthday and what would have been my grandfather's birthday at the end of August.

I think the first year will be the hardest because it's all the firsts he won't be around for. It's just weird to not think of him being at family events or not talking to him when I talk to grandma. Him not being there when we go to visit and just lots of things to get used to.

I know with time it will get better though. At first, lots of things made me cry. Certain songs that made me think of him would get me tearing up. A few times watching Rangers baseball games made me cry. I'd see things, smell things, hear things and think of things that reminded me of him and I'd cry. It hurt a lot and I hated that it made me cry so easily because I'm rarely brought to tears by anything. One night, I was laying in bed with the boyfriend and something he said reminded me of grandpa and I just started sobbing. He laid there with me, rubbing my back, letting me cry, getting me tissues, getting me water, hugging me; generally being the supportive and amazing man he is. He understands how it feels. His grandfather was his father figure and him, his mom and his little sister lived with their grandparents until the boyfriend was 17. Then they got a house a quarter mile down the street so they would still be close.

Three months later, though? Things make me sad, things make me miss him, I get emotional sometimes but I don't cry over everything any more. Things don't even get my eyes watering very often any more. I don't feel bad about that because it's a good thing. It's good to take time to grieve and mourn but you have to be able to move forward, too. It doesn't mean you're forgetting or caring less but you can't stay stuck in grief and sadness because it will consume you and effect you and people around you negatively. Your life can't stop because you lose someone you love.

I'll always love him and always miss him. Some days are still hard but, I know it gets better with time. And I'll always have the memories of all the great moments and happy times I had with him.

Allow me a moment to be sappy, it doesn't happen often...

As I'm typing this, I'm rather heavily medicated. You've been warned.

I've been pretty sick the last few days. Sunday, the boyfriend had the day off from work so I spent all day in bed and had him home taking care of me like the awesome boyfriend he is. He got some stuff for me Monday before he went to work and my mom ended up bringing me some stuff at 11 PM. Mind you, my mom has to drive 2 hours from her place to get to where I'm at then another 2 hours to get back home. I do appreciate her doing what she does for me.

I hate getting sick. I have a weak immune system due to low white blood cell count. I've tried a lot of different ways to boost my immune system but none have really worked so far. And I'm talking years of trying different things, not just months. I've had this issue since I was a little kid. It sucks. And I stay away from people that are sick as a general rule because when I get sick, I'm down for days even when it's not something serious. Which ends up irritating the hell out of me because I hate laying around doing nothing and feeling like crap and not having the energy for anything. Hopefully I can kick this crap in the next day or so and get back to being my normal self. :D

I have to say though that I have some really great people in my life. I had several offers from people willing to bring me soup, juice, Gatorade, Kleenex, medicine, cough drops or anything else I needed. Granted, my boyfriend had me taken care of and made a couple runs to go out and get stuff for me and my mom brought me some soup, Sprite, medicine and Jell-O as well. So, I'm covered. Still, it made me smile that I had people that I knew weren't just offering to be nice but were offering because they wanted to make sure I had everything I needed. In the past, I've had people offer to do things yet if I actually wanted to call on them for help, they would suddenly be busy or have a reason why they were unable to do what they had just offered to do minutes prior. I know without a doubt the few people who offered to bring me stuff or risk their health to come keep my sickly self company weren't just offering; any of them would have brought me what I needed if I wanted to take them up on their offers. It's nice to know you have some people in your life that you can count on. And even better knowing they care enough to offer things when you need them without even asking for them. It's the little things that make me happy, obviously. Thank you to those people, I appreciate the offers and the concern.

And I appreciate the well wishes on Twitter and the people sending me goofy stuff and jokes to put me in better spirits. That stuff really helps, too. It's so nice to know so many great people in the world, in real life and online, too.

It's always good to let the people in your life know how wonderful they are and how much you appreciate having them around. Whether they're family, friends, a significant other, online friends or what have you. There are so many unique and interesting relationships in my life and I'm happy to know so many good, kind, caring people. Even if I don't get to see or talk to some of them as often as I would like to. I still need to take more time to let them all know that I appreciate the times they've been there for me and how much I enjoy having them be a part of my life. I don't think people do that enough which is sad because it takes so little time to tell someone how great they are and how happy them being a part of your life makes you. I'm guilty of that because I'm just not an emotional person. I tend to come off and rather detached more often than not and it's not that I'm cold and uncaring, I'm far from it, being emotional just makes me uncomfortable. I much prefer logic and things that don't involve gooey messy emotions and warm feelings. :p

I really think it's the medication bringing it out from me tighyt because I'm not normally so sappy, lol. Anyone who knows me well enough can attest that me being emotional or sappy just doesn't really happen. It's all good, though. Once in a while, it can happen I suppose. :D

I've got some great antibiotics now and they should start kicking my ass back into good health. Sooner rather than later, hopefully.

Happy Tuesday!

My birthday post might be a bit of a downer but...

Today is my birthday. I'm now 26 yet still get mistaken for being 18-22. Usually under 21. We went out Monday night to watch Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Playoffs and out of the table, I was the only one asked for an ID when ordering a drink. Yet I'm older than all but one of those people, lol. And it's not that the waitress knew them better or that they go there more. I just look young. Which I'm sure I'll be thankful for once I'm quite a few more years older. ;)

I'm having a hard time being excited about it, really. I usually love birthdays, always have. My grandpa died Thursday. His viewing and service was Saturday. He's being cremated today. It's just hard to be happy and excited for much right now, I miss him. And it's my first birthday I won't get a birthday card from him and my grandma. There was always just one, signed together.

I am proud of myself, though. I've kept true to what I said I would do. I've cried whenever I felt sad. I've laughed and shared good memories when I felt like doing so. I haven't been letting myself lay in bed and sleep more than I would because that always just makes me feel worse. I haven't been angry with myself and gone over every single time I could have visited or called when I didn't. I realize that no matter how much time I spent, in the end, it will always seem like it wasn't enough. I haven't and will continue to not dwell on that because doing so would be useless. He knew how much he meant to me and how much I loved him. I made sure I told him as much every time I saw him the last couple years as his health increasingly continued to worsen and worsen.

So later, after the service they're having this morning before he's cremated (something to do with his military background I believe, yay veterans respecting their deceased fellows) I think I'll try to do something fun tonight. The boyfriend has work and I'm not sure my family will be up for anything but that's what friends are for. Being a Wednesday it might be tough but I'm at least going to find a little something fun to do. I think he'd like me top carry on and do something pleasant, even if I am sad and missing him horribly.

Happy Wednesday y'all.

Rest In Peace, EHH.

*If I ramble at any point/points, I apologize.*

My grandpa's funeral service was Saturday the 11th.

He died Thursday morning. I knew it was coming. I knew Wednesday it would be soon because my mom wanted me to drive 90 minutes to where she lives and hang out at the house with my sister and youngest brother while she stayed at my grandparents house. I didn't mind and the Boyfriend and I headed out there.

Once I got to my mom's on Wednesday, I took my siblings to get dinner, we ate and watched movies. I checked my phone obsessively for the time. Thursday was my other brother's birthday and I had hoped that Grandpa would pass Wednesday just because I didn't want him to pass on my brother's birthday. Having someone you know die on your birthday sucks, especially when it's someone you're close with. And more so, he's been in pain for so long I was just hoping it would end finally. It didn't happen until 6 AM on the 9th, though. My mom called me. I hadn't been able to sleep at all Wednesday so I was still up, lounging in a recliner in the living room only halfway paying attention to whatever movie I had on. I knew what she would say before I answered the phone but I braced myself for it anyway. She had me go wake up my sister and younger brother to tell them. I don't think my sister had been asleep anyway, just laying there. And if she had, I could tell she knew as soon as I opened my mouth to tell her because really, why else would I be in there at that time?

I didn't cry during or after that phone call. I knew it was coming but that's not why I didn't cry. No matter how long you know, you still can't really be prepared for the moment when that phone rings. I've been dreading seeing my mom's name on my caller ID for months now. Every time she would call, I'd tense up and prepare for the news that he was gone. Each time, it wasn't that. Except for Thursday morning.

Yet, I didn't cry. The sun was rising and I decided to go outside to look at it. I love sunrise yet I don't often get to see them. So, I went outside and looked at the beautiful pink and orange sky. The sun a huge burning bright ball coming up on the horizon, a cool breeze barely there in the early morning. My sister followed me outside and we both walked down the road a little bit and took pictures of the sunrise. (My mom lives out in the country so there's a lot of open space and not a lot of people nor traffic.) There was something so beautiful about it. I find nature very calming in all honesty and that's the reason I went outside in the first place. When something upsets me in my life these days, I take a different approach to it quite often. No self-harm, drugs or crawling deep inside a liquor bottle. I go outside, I breathe in fresh air and I look at all the good that's still around me. I look at the sky, the trees, whatever is in front of me that isn't man made. It doesn't always calm me down a lot. Sometimes it's only a little bit but it's always enough, though. It centers me and I can think clearly, feel clearly. I don't know what it is and really, I don't try to figure it out. If it ain't broke.. ;)

We went to see my grandma on Friday. Growing up, I spent a lot of time with my grandparents. They would come for visits regularly. We got to spend weekends at their place on a regular basis. Spring breaks, weeks at a time during the summer. My brother J and I spent a lot of time with them and around them. I know I'm lucky for that because not everyone has grandparents as wonderful as mine. I was fortunate to be able to spend a lot of time around them and have them be so influential in my life.

That was their first time I had been in their house without Grandpa being there. It was weird. He retired at 65 and every time I remember being at their house, he was always there. I felt empty in a way, like a part of me was suddenly missing. My grandma had me in the back bedroom that used to be my grandfather's room within a couple minutes of me being there. She just wanted to talk and she started crying. I hugged her but I didn't cry. I looked around the room, still full with all of his stuff and it just struck me as odd that he wouldn't ever sleep in his bed or even walk in that room again. My dad came back there after a while and the three of us sat and talked for a while back there. Some serious stuff, some funny things that I hadn't ever known about.

We moved out of the room. There were a lot of family members there and I felt weird sitting in grandpa's room even though he hadn't used it in a while. He'd been very bad off and had taken to just sleeping in his recliner in the living room instead of his bed. I digress. I sat on the couch and people were chattering about this and that. Except Grandpa wasn't there in his chair in the corner chiming in with the occasional wise words, offhand comment, smart ass remark or just his two cents on whatever the topic was as he usually did.

The Rangers game was on. I watched a lot of sports with my grandpa growing up. In part, he's a big reason I got into sports because it was something to do with him and I honestly really enjoyed them, It was the first baseball game I'd watched in their house without him there. No shit talking the other team or no commenting on a good play that just happened.

I looked over at his chair (because it's where he always sat) several times. When it was empty, it was weird. He wasn't in the kitchen getting milk or some water. He wasn't in the bathroom. He hadn't gone to bed for the night. He wasn't up wandering around the house fiddling with anything. He just.... wasn't there. And at times, someone else would be sitting there. Which seemed weird because no one ever sat there except Grandpa.

Saturday was the viewing and then the service for Grandpa. Up until Saturday, I hadn't cried at all. It's not that I was trying to be tough and hold everything in; I wasn't. It had all just felt surreal to me up until Saturday morning. Even after being in my grandparents house, talking with everyone, almost everyone else crying, seeing and feeling everything I saw and felt; it just hadn't really sunk in yet. I kept thinking about it and I knew he was gone in a sense but it didn't feel real, final. Not until I was sitting on the bed trying to figure out if the Boyfriend could get his shift covered at work to go with me or not. I was sitting on the bed and we were trying to figure out what to, of we needed to take separate cars, if he could even go, etc. I was explaining that I wanted to go to my grandparents for a bit before the viewing because a bunch of people were there already, just hanging out and spending time together. Trying to figure out if he wanted to come with me for that and only that, go to just the viewing, blah blah blah. Such simple decisions that I would normally be able to make and yet I suddenly felt so overwhelmed by making a simple decision. The Boyfriend asked me what I wanted him to do. And I felt like, right then, that everything came crashing down on me at once. It hit me what we were discussing and why we were discussing it and there it was. We were going to a viewing, to see my grandfather laying there lifeless. We were going to a service where an uncle I'd never met before was going to say a few words in honor of my grandfather because he was gone. I started sobbing then. I hate crying, honestly. It's hell on your body. It's raw and ugly. You may feel better afterward but you'll also be tired and feel horribly. Sometimes, you need to cry. And sometimes, you need to cry and to sob and to let your whole body feel it. My boyfriend just held me while I laid in our bed, tears streaming rapidly down my face, my body shaking as I sobbed. Those few minutes were so painful but felt so relieving, too.

There was more crying going on once we got to my grandparent's house. I didn't cry there. I didn't really feel anything except sadness for my grandmother right then. She looked so sad and I couldn't imagine how it must feel to lose someone you had spent 63 years of your life with.

I didn't know what to expect when we got to the viewing. I met relatives and family friends I had never met before. I got hugged by quite a few of them. "I'm so sorry, honey..." was said more than a couple times. And I didn't know what to say to that. I found out quickly that a simple nod worked fine because there's really nothing that needs to be said to that.

I didn't cry during the service until my little sister started crying. I don't know why that set me off but it did. My uncle was saying a few words and it was rather moving yet light and often times humorous. He was doing fine but he got choked up a little bit and that on top of seeing my sister, mom, aunts, grandma and other people crying just made me get teary eyed. No sobbing, just tears running down my cheeks.

Afterward, most of us went back to grandma's. We ate and talked and all just hung out.

My grandfather wasn't my first funeral, not even my first family member that passed. He was the one I was closest with. Anyone who has read my blog for long enough has read about my grandparents. I know it'll be tough getting used to him being gone. Even in this post, I realized I was still referring to it as my grandparent's home. When I was leaving on Saturday evening, I had to remind myself that grandma was the only one I had to hug and say goodbye to because he wasn't there anymore. Sunday, I was talking to another friend about him and I had to mentally stop myself from speaking about Grandpa in a sense as if he were still alive. It's all going to take some getting used to and I'm just taking it easy.

I know, I'm supposed to remember the good times I had with him. I have been. We talked and shared about some of our good memories as a family. I talked about them with my boyfriend and my best friend, too. I'm grateful that he was such a big part in my life and feel lucky that he was around so much for so long. I'm also just happy he's not suffering any longer. The last few years have been so rough, watching him get worse and worse. Alzheimer's is a terrible thing and it's hard on everyone close to that person as well. It's one of those bittersweet things where you're happy because something terrible has ended but so sad because you lost something very dear to you in the process. It's difficult. My birthday is on Wednesday, the 15th, and I'm far less interested/excited about it than I was a week ago. I can't let my life stop because of this and I won't but it's going to take a little time.

He was a good man. He was patient and caring. He rarely ever raised his voice and he never really got on to us when we were acting up. He wasn't a pushover by any means but he just had a quiet way of dealing with things. You knew what you could and couldn't get away with. He had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor which apparently just runs in the family. He worked hard. He was fun to be around, even when we just sat on the porch staring into the distance and chatting here and there. I always knew how interested he was in our lives and I never doubted how much he loved us.

I'll take the time to be sad when I feel sad and to cry when I want to cry. I'll probably always miss him and I'm sure there will be things that randomly happen that will make me think of him and make me sad. Just as there will be things that make me think of him and make me happy. I'll always have my love for him and I'll always have all the wonderful memories of him.