THE BEAST!

THE BEAST !!!!!!!  OH MY GOD!!!

It's been a while since I used our/MY tiny little leaf blower.  My landlord usually has "people" come clean up the yard, and for that I am enormously grateful.

But things are growing so fast and Oak leaves are falling like rain so I decide to drag out MY OWN leaf blower, damn it, and clean off some things myself.  I've done this many times before, although it's been a few years.

WELL, let me just say... It was a Carol Burnet skit.  I had leaves and dirt and gravel and huge tree branches going everywhere except where I wanted them to go.  (I had a brief thought of the "Twister" movie with Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton, where they're in the middle of a tornado and a COW comes blowing across their car.)  I finally remembered that the blower DID have an OFF switch so that's what I did.  How do those guys make it look so easy!!!!!!!!!!

Then I sat down with leaves and dirt and gravel and huge tree branches all over ME, and said SHIT.  Then I looked around to make sure no one else was there to see this, just in case someone had happened in and was enjoying the show.

I have to give WeedEater a pat on the back.  This little thing can blow!!

So the thing I learned from this... I've been looking for an extra little side-job, to put some supplemental money in the bank.
I now know that anything involving directional wind flow isn't for me.

I got my 30 year old favorite broom and accomplished the rest of my project.

And took a shower.

IT'S BEEN A YEAR...

I emailed this last Sunday.  I didn't put it on the blog but some asked if I would.  So...

>>>>>>>>>

It’s been a year ago tomorrow, Monday, Feb. 27th, since Neill died.  I can’t believe it.

This picture was just a few hours before I had to make the final decision to remove his life support – a year ago.  He wouldn’t let go of my hand, or Hana’s, or Joel’s.  I took it with my phone and he grumbled at me when he realized I had taken it.  I’m so, so glad I did.

I’ve worried for months what I should do on the anniversary of his death.  In lots of ways I hate it being past the one-year mark.  It seems dismissive, like saying “oh, that was over a year ago”, like I’m supposed to be all fine and back to “normal” instantly.  It’s just a weird place to be.  I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel, or do, or say.

I bought myself a present a couple of days ago, a splurge.  It’s a very simple id bracelet with just the word “one” engraved on it.  My thought was that when I have rough days ahead that this will remind me that I made it one year, I can make it through another one.  Who knows what I’ll do next year.  Maybe I’ll be stronger and it won’t be necessary.

Knowing that I can’t change anything that happened, the only thing I really wish is that I could have one last conversation with him... where he still had his voice and could talk to me.  I think about that every day.

These are things I’ve done or that have happened this past year without Neill.

·     -   I approved his wishes to turn off his life-support in the hospital while he was still looking at me, and knowing what was about to happen.

·      -  I managed to sign all the papers and talk to all the hospital administrators about that decision, and keep my wits about me.

·      -  I sent his body to a crematorium that day – I couldn’t go along for the first time in 36 years.  I met with the kind people at Austin Cremations the next day.  Picked up his ashes 5 days later.  Harder than it sounds.  I thought of it as “The Body Shop” to make myself smile a bit.

·      -  I called all his doctors and told them he died.

·     -   I called all the companies to pick up the machines and the bed and the wheelchair.  And had to give them WAY too much personal information.

·      -  I wrote an obituary.  And realized the unbelievable cost of every word I put in it, financially, and emotionally.

-   -  I got an tattoo.  A small one.

·      -  I managed to change all the hundreds of accounts we had from “our” name or “his” name to MY name;  listen to them doubt what I was telling them; and send those same people WAY too much personal information to do that.  I only screamed at a few.  And I REALLY screamed at them.  (As Neill would have said “Fuck Time Warner.  Fuck Sprint.”)

·      -  I managed to get an entire warehouse emptied.  But only thanks to Patrick, Joel, and Hana.  And some of Neill’s wonderful friends.

·     -   I cleaned out drawers and closets and files and boxes and paper sacks.  And cried through the whole process.  Every time.

·      -  I took a 5-day trip to California by myself.  Because I had to.

·     -   I made it through two beautiful, special weddings by myself.

·      -  I began the process of working through huge financial issues.

·     -   I bought a car.  And I have to pay for it.  All by myself, without Neill.

·      -  I’ve tried to be a good mom and aunt to my three “kids”.  Not sure if I’m good enough.  But I’ve tried hard.  They would say I was doing fine I think.

·      -  I’ve started learning how to do absolutely everything myself after 36 years.  No more sharing responsibilities or having a partner to take care of daily life.

·     -   I’m learning how to not expect anyone to come home.  No one is going to be driving into the driveway.  I’m learning how to be in the house alone.

·      -  I’ve learned that I have no one to share my excitement/frustration/anger/questions with on an hourly basis.  Neill and I called or emailed or texted each other a dozen times a day.  I miss that so much.

·     -   I’m trying to move forward.  It’s still a struggle to get out of bed and face the day EVERY SINGLE DAY.  I never want to open my eyes even if I’m awake.  But once I do, there are things to make me laugh.

I went to Lowe’s today and bought a plant that has yellow flowers that Neill liked.  I planted it in a huge, old, Mexican pot that we hauled back from Nuevo Laredo in the back of the Bronco a billion years ago, and mixed in some of his ashes with the soil.  It’s right by the back door so every day I can say, “hi honey”, or “fuck you for leaving me”, depending on my mood.  :-)

I’ve gotten to this point.  I'll figure out the rest.  One "chunk" at a time.

I found this picture from 1959.  He was 5 or 6.  I thought it fit for the occasion.

R.I.P., honey, and hope you're watching the games.

I love you.

S