No Reprise....

April was a helluva month.

I quit one job to get another.  Both decent paying jobs, and jobs which were seven hours apart in distance.  I moved from where I was living back to my hometown, shacked up with my mother and sister (who had terminal cancer and was on house hospice), and settled in to await the arrival of my family so we could start our lives over again in our old stomping grounds.

How does the saying go?  The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men?

So, the last week of work was SUPPOSED to be an easy week.  I won't go into the gory details, but my stepbrother (who I grew up with, who might as well have been blood), was in a horrible accident and died in the first month of April.  Holy shit, Batman.  Trust me, it wasn't something any family should go through.

So I'm kinda shakey, get back to my hometown, and my sister gets really, really sick.  She goes into the hospice and eight days later, she passes quietly after almost six years fighting cancer.

What the hell?

So somehow, in less than a month, I go from being a middle kid to an only child.  I can't even begin to tell you how I feel about it.  And I certainly won't say much here.  But right now, it has come to the point that no matter how good a job I landed, well, I am living day-to-day.  I think those guys were kind of scared that I would just up and quit....but really, there were several reasons we came home.  At the top of the list was me spending time with my sister before she passed.  But really, I'm still in shock.  PTSD, I suppose.  I expected that I would have more time with her, to spend with her and be around her.  Again, intent and outcome rarely coincide, and now I am dealing with a double-loss of loved ones.

I don't question my mortality.  Someday, every one of us is going to die.  It's just part of nature.  What I have a hard time wrapping my brain around is the fact that on September 17th, there's not going to be any phone calls to make.  The fact that on my birthday, the only blood that's going to wind up calling me is probably my dad and my mom (maybe my redhead).  I can't imagine the holidays without my sister, who still in her absence in my life, called and sent things. Texted.  And now I'm posting messages on someone's 'wall' that will never get read, writing letters that will never be heard.  I've got artwork or pictures of artwork that will never be explained, their meanings.

I think the harder part is trying to figure out what to do with, ah, my sister.  Who wanted to be cremated.  The poor dear, the further along she went, the more the morphine muddled her mind, so often times she changed exactly what she wanted done with her remains.

One of the things she mentioned was being poured into the Guadalupe at the Riverwalk in San Antonio.

Now, let's think about this.  I don't know how many of you people have ever had to deal with remains, but the first problem is that there are BITS.  Now, you probably really don't want to go poking around in the bits, being that they're probably bone or tooth.  However, when you are releasing remains, you have to consider that wherever you're 'setting someone free', if it's on land, there's a high probability of not everything just melding into the scene of wherever you're wanting to pour them out.  BITS, I say.

Second problem - cremation means people have been cooked to the hundredth degree to be reduced to ash.  Guess what?  Ash floats.  Which means that if you're pouring someone into a body of water, don't think everything is just going to sink and be hunky-dory-peachy-keen.  Your beloved is going to coat the entire surface of whatever water you pour them in, and if you're lucky, the water is rushing and will wash them mostly out of sight.

Third problem - I don't have a criminal record.  I would HATE to have that status change because I've dumped a body in the Riverwalk waterway.  Call me paranoid.  I can just see that exchange.

Officer - "Ma'am, you just pour something into the river?"

Me - "Um, no?"

Officer - "Ma'am, the container is in your hands.  What did you pour into the river?"

Me - "Uh, a body?"

Officer - "A body?"

Me - "Well, yes."

Officer - "........."

Me - "You see, it was my sister's final wish....she used to live in San Antonio...."

Officer - "Ma'am....I think you're going to have to come with me.  Would you place your hands behind your back please?"

Yeah, that would be my luck.  SO.....I will pick my sister up Wednesday and put her on a shelf until I figure out exactly what to do with her.  Don't get me wrong, I'm writing about it, but it's not really something I am thinking about lightly.  I don't want to mail her to anyone to dump, because I can't imagine trying to explain the postage, and NOT explaining it would probably land me in jail or something ("Ma'am....a cadaver dog scented on your box.....could we ask you what is inside?"), and frankly, I just want something more personal.

So....short of trying to creep through the little Riverwalk valley at four AM during a weekday, I'm actually working on that problem on top of the pile of paperwork left behind.  Apparently my sister thoughtfully told my mother I was able to take care of it all.  What she didn't leave was concise instruction, so some of this I'm just winging.  I've never had to wrap up anyone's final wishes, so we'll see what happens.

Until then, no matter how flaky I sound, I really love my sister.  And I really miss her. 

Moving Along.....

My trip from Abilene to Houston was pretty restless.  I was in Houston already in mind, but still straggling along behind in Abilene.  I made friends there.  I lost friends there.  I was elevated in some areas of my light and torn down in others.  It was the closing of the chapter, and unfortunately, I feel like some of those characters will choose not to appear anywhere further down the story.  As they choose, I suppose.

But the journey to Houston was not without event.  I started GeoCaching again, so I've had some quiet time to myself.  It's fun with the kids join and it's a family affair....but other times, it's just you and a message in a bottle, so to speak.  I've got a travel tag I need to drop.

Change is inevitable.  Change is good.  Sometimes it hits us on so many levels, it's hard to process.  I realize that through all this, the infighting and the tragedy of  recent, that there is much of me that has become a changed person.  Maybe good, maybe bad, but changed nonetheless.  I did not so much come to conclusions about other people and their behaviors, but my own, my own thoughts and responses.  What I would endure and what was beyond my enduring.  It was both disheartening and inspiring at the same time.

I will swear that before my sister declared she was going on Hospice and before my brother died, the three days leading to the event, I was not the normal laid-back person I have a tendency to be.  I was psychotic, easily wounded, and lashing out over imagined slights.  I really think that I had an emotional meltdown.  The first one was on the first friend I made when I came to Abilene.  The whole response to that event was basically, "You're horrible.  Grow up.  Get a life.  Shame on you. WE are behaving like civilized adults, you're just too stupid and petty to do that.  So get over yourself.  Our opinions are educated and perfect."  That's pretty much it in a nutshell.

What they didn't realize was that within a few days of not talking, all that emotional tornado, my father calls me and lets me know my sister is going on house hospice.

The second event, which is about a month, almost 2 from it, is that in a horrible accident, my father had to shoot my schizophrenic brother during a violent episode.  I won't go into too much of that here, save that it was self defense.  However, days before, I'd been thinking about my brother.  I had a blowout with my live-in best friend, so instead of being ugly, I went to my room.  Three days later, as I am actually making something for my brother (carebear pillow cases...he loved care bears....), he is shot, the wound so bad that it was fatal to him.  It was bizarre because I brought the pillow cases, having just finished them, with me up to the ER.

SO.......I can admit that I acted an ass.  I don't care how logical a person is, I would tell them I don't believe in coincidence. So if I acted badly, I'd apologize for some of it.  Some.

But....I had an epiphany over the whole ordeal.  My thought was this.....as a person acting out of character, especially someone who's supposed to be a beloved friend, like family, how do you just thumb your nose at their behavior and roll on?  Generally, when shit is weird and going on with a friend, I try to find out what's going on so I can be there for my friend.  I figure that's what the best of friends do.  Why suddenly was I booted because I did not behave in a way that was endearing 24-7.

It makes me think of a wise redhead.  "If you can't take me at my/ worst, you don't deserve me at my best."  I think I'll take that route.

And onto the new life in Houston.

On the move. Again.

Sometimes the Universe likes to pull jokes that I guess only the Universe likes to laugh at.

This time, well, I'm headed back to Houston.

Now, I've been gone for years, but sometimes, I always have a way of heading back home.  This particular revelation came after an unwitting blowup amongst friends.  I know I didn't behave in the best manner, but damn, it's funny how I can put up with other people wearing their ass on their shoulders, but in the one time that my brain goes into total meltdown and I wear the asshat, somehow, I'm taken to task, people attempt to shame me, and forget that I was ever a good friend.

Whatever.

Anywho, I have been known to 'sense' things before they happen.  So I will chalk it up to that.  Because upon hindsight, really, I wasn't behaving my normal self, was in a rather bitchy/whiny/pissy way, and within a day after total meltdown, I get this call from my dad that my sister has decided to go on home hospice.

Okay, kids, that really puts things into perspective.

Firstly, I can handle arrogance.  Self-righteousness is another thing.  When people's behaviors contradict their normal patterns, I get concerned.  Sometimes I get blasted, but it doesn't make me less concerned.  Sometimes it makes me hysterical.  But no matter how much of an asshole someone's been, my friends aren't usually assholes, so when they wind up acting like assholes, generally something's wrong and I do what I can to find out and either fix it, or help them through it.  Unfortunately, I don't think I ever got the benefit of the doubt.  But after thinking on it for a while, I realize that if I cannot be given any kind of grace, particularly in light that I give so much, that really, I can probably do without those 'friends'.

But when I found out my sister was not well, it made me homesick.  For years, we lived separate lives, our own paths taking us elsewhere.  But as a curtain call looms, it beckons me home.  I want to spend more quality time.  And being as most of our family is from around that area, after nights of long talks, my husband and I decided that it would be best we go home.

I never thought about the kind of reception that idea would inspire.  All sorts of tail wagging and wiggles came out of the idea, and I didn't realize how much we were missed, or how much we were missing out on.  So...as scared as I am to quit the job I've carried for the past six years, I'm taking a deep breath and another great leap.  Hopefully, for the better.  I leave behind a few good friends, but I come home to a lot too.  And I also come home in better shape than I left, so that's always a good start.

In Honor of Brighid

Far away from highland mist

Covered in early morning dawn

Like the ringing of your anvil

Through the years beyond

In candlelight, in eternal flame

The memory of your name

With offerings made from the heart

For reasons still the same

Goddess, Mother, Saint

Healer, Smith and Sage

Honored by your daughters now

Regardless of their age

We ask you keep our fires lit -

Warm and happy homes.

And of my poem, O, Great Poetess!

It's humbly for you - don't look at it too critical.

Snow Day

This sucks.

I woke up ready to go to work.  Believe it or not, doing what I do, I'm constantly trying to do a mental check of all the things I have to do.  And when things get clogged and backlogged, it makes me worry.  A lot.

I complain a lot about my job, but I try hard at it.  I don't like not knowing, and I don't like not making it.  But if it weren't for the stupid snow...well, this is the second time I've called in in two years.  And I'm really, really annoyed by it.

So I'm working frantically to clear off the stairs and my roommate is making snow-angels in her nightclothes and biker boots.  At least she had enough presence of mind to throw on a coat and shades.

And the snow just makes it hellatiously bright.

I live in northeast Texas, and although from time to time, we get some snow, this is, in fact, TEXAS.  It isn't supposed to snow in Texas.  It's either hot and dry or hot and humid, there's not much in between.  So...just add snow, and everyone turns into a moron.

Now, northerns laugh at us for having problems with so little snow.....but it's not really the amount of snow we get as opposed to lack of education in dealing with the snow.  We don't even sell chains for tires here, I don't think.  Most people don't plug in their cars (unless it's a hybrid).  And we certainly don't deal with snow very often.  So when someone gets stuck (like me) and can't make it into work (like me), sometimes they figure that their car is really having problems with being stuck because they think it's bogged down (like me).  Then someone smarter or more experienced than them (like my husband) can point out that it's not bogged down (what I thought), it's lack of traction (what he said) that's keeping the car from moving (doh).

Again....lack of experience.  Only problem is that it can get you killed or injured.  So be careful.

I'm gonna curl up and read.  I've read this series through a few times.  I like it.  It's kinda like pulp detective novels meets sci-fi magic.  It's an easy read for me, I chew through fiction, particularly in genres I like, quick - 1 paperback can get eaten in 4-5 hours. But then again, it's gotta be a good, easy read.

The Amazonian

Yup. There's ads here.

It's okay though, right?

I figure, with Amazon, it would make it easier to share cool finds.  And I'm all about cool finds.  There is an amazing resource through the internet, and frankly, I know a lot of people that just don't have the savvy of navigating it.

But it's okay.  It gives me the ability to share it with you.  Which, I'm gonna be honest, you clicking it might throw a few cents (and I stress the word CENTS...not dollars, CENTS) into an account that helps my countless, crafty addictions, but is that so bad?  I might be able to buy a candybar online at the end of the year. Somehow, I find that terribly amusing.

So, as a test, I'm going to share an interesting thing with you.

One of my favorite movies was done at the onset of the century, and I don't mean 2000.  It's a black and white movie which took several years to re-piece back together.  I thought it was innovative for it's time.  It sends a beautiful message.  You can see it's influence in other works of art later, especially music videos, like "Under Pressure" and "Express Yourself" (let me show MY age now...heh.).

The first time I got to see it was in Junior High from THE COOLEST English teacher I ever had, Mrs. Stengler.  Mrs. Stengler was a quirky lady. She was a older widow, living alone, and brought her Nintendo to school with her for us to help her through trickier aspects of games.  She had the most wonderful sense of humor.  I remember her very fondly.

Here is is in Blu Ray, but sometimes you can get it in regular DvD format cheaper.  The problem with it is that either way, it's kind of harder to come by UNLESS you get it off the internet.  Most places you get movies don't really carry it.  Then again, old black and whites aren't really in style for a lot of people.  It's sad...all that cinematic history....

Well...either way, I gotta run. Thanks for putting up with some of this.

Midnight....

So, I really did take the time to read this book recently.

Which is cool. It's been a while since I read something just for the pleasure of it. My schedule doesn't allot me a lot of time, and when I have time, recently, all I really want to do is sleep. But after someone mentioned to me that this book actually spurred them to go all the way to Savannah, Georgia...well, I wanted to see.

Now the book is beautiful. The descriptions are whole and have an otherworldliness about them, even as mostly 'nonfiction' as the writer says it is. Funny part is, I actually saw it as charming and pleasant reading, but...for me, not wholly shocking. Just a very pretty picture of things through someone else's eyes.

I say this, because I start recounting tales of my adventures throughout my life. I can't say it was on such a grand scale when money is concerned, but the richness and fullness of the characters...I see that in day-to-day life. In fact, my world is filled with interesting characters, and some people look at my ease and delight in people as a bit eccentric sometimes, I think. But it's the sheer enjoyment I have of people.

In the professional realm, sometimes I wonder what my peers think of me. Some know me a little better than just within the limitations of my job, and they do not say too much about what or who I am. That suits me fine, as long as that doesn't become a strange topic of conversation. However, watching their interactions, their idiosyncrasies, and manner fills me with fascination. As an old friend used to say, "Your stories got stories." Yup. I'd have to say so.

Anyway, interesting read if you're into the sociological aspects of southern gentry. Don't look for a point. It doesn't really have a point, not as far as stories go. It is just kind of a 'time in the life of..' book. It has characters which are described vividly. And even if you're into stories with very specific points and that idea doesn't appeal to you, it's a well-written book for a casual read.