Thinking about The Ex

In July of 2022, I received a middle of the night text that I never really thought I'd get. When I say to you that I never saw it coming, that would be an understatement.

The morning of July 4th, RJ texted saying something was wrong with his dad and he was taken away in an ambulance. He was freaking out and didn't know what to do. 

After staring at that text for a minute, I didn't really know how to respond. I couldn't help him from three states away, but I could offer words of encouragement and positivity. Then told him to keep me updated as I was going back to sleep. 

The next 12-14 hours were so hard. As updates started to come from the doctors, it was clear that he wasn't going to be walking out of the hospital. And that was a devastating blow to RJ.

On July 6th, at 8:09am, I was notified that The Ex had passed. 

After years and years of fighting, arguing, disagreeing on almost everything, I found myself feeling something I hadn't felt in so long. I was hurting, and I wasn't even married to him anymore. 

I hurt for my son. I hurt because I knew the pain was just beginning. I tried to be so strong for RJ, and after a few conversations with Sis, we decided we were going to drive out to see RJ during this time. 

It was a quick trip. She flew down to LA to meet me, and then we rented a car and drove to Texas. We only stayed for a couple days, but I just needed to hug RJ in person. Virtual hugs and kisses just weren't going to do it this time. He was in too much pain.

Tomorrow would have been his 53rd birthday. 

Miss you.

47 Days

For 47 days, I had painful stents inside my ureters. I couldn't cough without it hurting. I couldn't sneeze without it hurting. At times, I couldn't stand up straight because of the positioning of them. It was a true testament to my mental health, and I'm here to tell you, I broke. 

One Saturday morning, SS and I were headed out to the Farmers Market. As I got up from the couch and walked to grab my keys, I coughed. This cough literally brought me to my knees. At that time, the stents had been in for 37 days, and one can assume that scar tissue was already starting to form over them. This means that when moved, that tissue tears/rips, and it doesn't feel good. I struggled to walk around that entire morning, and ended up cutting my day short to just go home. Also at this time, I still had not taken any sort of pain reliever, that really helped. And the sound vibrations weren't helping anymore. 

A week later, I just couldn't handle the pain anymore. I was so tired of crying in the shower and wondering if things would ever go back to normal. I was feeling traumatized by this whole situation, that I finally called the Urologists office, in tears, and begged them to do something for me. He brought me into the office to talk to me, calm me down. He was 100% convinced that the pain was in my head and my anxiety was making it worse. He gave me a prescription for Valium, and sent me home. The Valium calmed me down a bit, but it never helped with the pain, of course, because it wasn't just in my head. The next day, he agreed to schedule me for a stent removal, but if I wanted the pain to stop asap, we needed to do it in office, instead of in the hospital with anesthesia. 

The last time this procedure was tried, I had a panic attack and the procedure failed. I couldn't allow that to happen again. I needed these damn things out, and even though I was so scared and certain it would fail again, I told him yes. 

My appointment was scheduled for 3pm, so I had to deal with the anxiety of it all, all morning at work. Because I was going to be on some heavy sedation medication (that honestly everyone I spoke to said not to mix), I needed to have a driver. Somehow I was able to convince SS to go with me, against his will. 

To be honest, this procedure should be more than anyone should handle, but when SS told me he was going to be really angry he took off work and this didn't end up happening, I knew I had to do everything I could. Between the medications I had taken, and the extreme amount of Lidocaine they used, I was able to get through the procedure. SS was proud of me, and even the doctor told me that. Whew!

I walked out of that office with zero pain. None. They were both out and I was pain free. 
Best. Feeling. Ever.

Breaking Down

Another Summer has come and gone. It’s the beginning of another school year, which means our photographers are back in full swing.

I was tasked with helping to train the newly hired photographers this season, but with that came ridicule and judgement that really tore me down. I allowed the harsh words of another, to come into my home. It festered and became an infection that quickly spread to another. And another. It became so bad, so quickly, I thought it was going to be the thing that brought everything to an end. It wasn’t.
Yet.
I don’t quite know where things will go from here, but the physical therapy required to fix this problem, will be tough, painful, and hopefully worth it.

With all that being said, I’m super excited for this new Fall season to start, and I promise to work harder on not letting the words and opinions of another, break me.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Thoughts from my mind.

Sometimes there are things that ramble around in my brain, that I just have to get out. Unfortunately, the person I live with, doesn’t always want to hear all the ramblings. So, I let it all out here.

+ I was taking pictures at a school the other day, and a little girl came up and asked me to retake her picture. When I asked for her name, I was almost knocked over with shock. Here stood a beautiful little 2nd grader, who I hadn’t seen since she was a newborn. I don’t have communication with her parents anymore, because, well, they were Jeffy’s friends, and let’s be honest, I didn’t walk away from that relationship with friends. It really is a small world.

+ Having a weekend off from NASCAR might seem like a great thing, especially since it’s Easter weekend, but some of us feel differently. I mean, we’re only six weeks into the season and I’m not ready to have a weekend off.

+ Teenagers. What is it with teenagers today? They’re so damn rude and disrespectful, it’s absolutely mind numbing. They’re being disrespectful. Stop giving them phone upgrades! They’re rude. Stop allowing them to hang out with the rude friends from which they’re learning. They’re lazy. Stop allowing them to sit and play video games that contribute to the laziness. Make them do chores, it won’t kill them. And be a fucking parent, not their ‘friend’.

+My ex husband has once again turned my son against me. At 17 years old, you’d think the kid would see through the lies his dad tells, but when you’ve had the same person poisoning your mind for 13 years, I guess you just don’t know what else to believe. It’s disgusting of my ex, but typical. Any chance he’s had over the last 20 years to ruin my name, he’s taken it. I knew I should have never allowed him to move my son to Texas. Should have listened to my mother instincts, but allowed another persons voice to overrule my own. And I’ll never make that mistake again. Ever.

Enough.

Glasses

I am 39 years old. Last week, I had to buy my first pair of glasses.

My parents both wear glasses. My dad since he was about six, and my mom after her teenage years. My sister started wearing glasses when she was a preteen. I think maybe she was in 6th or 7th grade? Since then, she has always hated the fact that I don’t need them. I would typically just laugh it off, or make fun of her for having to wear them, because, you know, sisters. I suppose that since everyone else in my entire family (aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc.) all wore glasses, she felt it was a bit unfair that I didn’t. I mean, glasses made others call her a geek in school, and the kids weren’t making fun of me for that.

But trust me, they were making fun of me for other reasons. It wasn’t because I was wearing glasses. I had my own struggles. “Dumbo” isn’t exactly what a small little frail girl with thin blonde hair, wanted to be called every day.

For the last few months, I’d noticed that I was having a hard time focusing my eyes on things that were small print. Seeing the tv from the couch, or the road while driving, was not an issue, but when I needed to read a text message that came through, or an article in a magazine, I would struggle to adjust my eyes to that small print. I would try holding the print farther from my face, but then I couldn’t see the little letters. It was beginning to frustrate me so much, that I made the print on my phone bigger, and avoided reading things with small print. I would intentionally hand it to someone else. I mentioned this to someone at work, and she told me to look into getting some reading glasses.

I immediately blew that off thinking I couldn’t possibly need glasses. I hadn’t needed them all these years. What makes someone that doesn’t know me, think they know what I need? She wasn’t a doctor.

Last week when I was shopping at Target, I walked through the pharmacy department and was stopped by the endcap that held reading glasses. It was as if there were huge arrows coming down from the ceiling pointing at this endcap. Was this really happening? Was I really standing there hoping to solve a recent problem I’d been experiencing? I was.

With all the willpower I could muster, I picked a pair off the peg, and put them on. Everything was blurry, until I pulled out my phone.

Hallelujah!!

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I could see the little letters with no problem! It was as if I was looking through a magnifying glass. It was glorious! And relieving.

So, here I sit. I’m 39 years old, and I just bought my first pair of glasses. Here comes 40.

Marriage.

“Marriage is harder than parenting. We have this inept and unconditional love for our children that is just there. Marriage is work. You must reinvent and change as time and life changes you, and you must do it together as one. Really, it’s a very long three-legged race on a rocky trail. Marriage is compromises beyond your imagination. Marriage is forgiveness ahead of pride. Marriage is humbeling. Marriage is a beautiful privelage and should not be taken lightly. Be honest with yourself before taking the leap. Its not a leap of faith…this is a concious choice. There should be no doubt, no uncertainties, no banking on potential. Marriage is part of who you are. It’s a sum of two people. You should move, act, and behave as one. Marriage should be the most unselfish thing you do, besides being a parent.”

This quote came from a blog post of a friend. It speaks volumes to what I’ve been feeling lately.

Over a week ago, The Ex and I signed the final divorce papers that will officially end our marriage. It’s been a very long ten years waiting for this moment, but it’s finally here. The papers have been sent off to the judge for signature, so in six to eight weeks, we’ll get them back and be officially divorced. It’s the greatest feeling ever.

So why do I feel so afraid? Why do I suddenly feel vulnerable and naked?

The first person I dated after The Ex and I split up, was Jeffy. No matter how many years we spent together, and how close we got, there was always a safe barrier that stood between us. It was my marriage. I was still legally married in the eyes of the law, so knew that our relationship could never turn into anything more concrete. I felt that same sense of safety from that barrier once SS and I started dating. Now that my barrier is gone, I feel a little scared. I feel that I don’t have anything holding me back anymore, and the thought of possibly getting married again some day, scares me.

SS and I have been together for three years now. In those three years, we’ve moved in together, taken vacations with each others families, contributed to each others children, and created a life intertwinded with each other. It’s a life we have created together, through a rollercoaster of emotions, both good and bad.

Unquestionable love. Compromise. Forgiveness. Unselfishness. All the things of which a marriage should be. And all the things I’m scared to completely give in to.

As I walk through this new chapter of my life, I hope that my fears aren’t so overwhelming and that I learn to embrace the vulnerability of being divorced.

 

One Peaceful Moment

Getting out of the house when you’re forced to be there, is like a kid trying to sneak out at night.

I had to escape the confines of the house, so I grabbed my keys, stopped at the local KFC, and headed up to a park that overlooks my city. I sat, enjoyed the quiet and the view as I munched on fried chicken and coleslaw. I thought about how relaxed and rested I felt not having to worry about work. I felt happy and at peace and that made me cry tears of joy because this is what I wanted all along.

I do not look forward to going back to work, where the stress and the frustration all come back, but I know there’s not a chance in hell that’ll happen. So, in a few days, all the happiness and peacefulness will escape my body and I’ll be back to dealing with production companies and their ever growing demands.

Life.

 

My Pink Notebook

About eight years ago, during a shopping trip to the local Target, I picked up this awesome pink notebook…

When I saw it, the only thought that went through my head was, “This will be the book I write all my first year experiences in, when I have my next baby.” And I was confident it would be a girl. Everything about me says I don’t have any business talking about babies, especially at that time, but I couldn’t just walk past this notebook. Just in case.

It has sat on a shelf ever since. Untouched. Out of danger of damage. And still blank.

This morning as I was looking for something specific on the bookshelf that is in RJ/Lil’ SS/Guest room, I saw the notebook. As I pulled it out, the realization that perhaps it wouldn’t ever be used for the purpose I had in mind, was a face slapping realization. It stung. And it left a mark.

After I gathered my emotions and wiped away the few tears that had fallen, I stuffed the notebook into a box in my closet, and shut the door.

There will come a time when I’ll know exactly what to do with it, so until then, it’ll stay right where it is. Out of sight, out of mind.

 

To Hide or Not to Hide

As an adult, we face decisions on a daily basis. Sometimes they’re difficult and complex and involve A LOT of other factors in the decision, and sometimes they’re as simple as choosing between which route to take to work. The decision I currently face, is even simpler than that.

For over a month, I have struggled with the decision to make this site private. Since this website is run through Blogger, I have the option of allowing only certain readers to access it. And believe me when I say, I’m leaning that way.

When I started blogging back in April of 2009, it was mainly because I wanted a little piece of the internet to call my own. I wanted a place where I could write about my day-to-day activities, along with my rants. At the time, I had about three readers, and they were friends. I didn’t care about what I said or whose feelings I hurt, because those friends ultimately had similar rants and either were with me on my day-to-day adventures, or already knew of them from real life.

Today, things are different. People take offense to the littlest, stupidest things, and anyone that knows me, knows I’m not interested in dealing with that type of bulls**t. So to avoid that type of stuff, I hold back in my writings. I don’t always say things I fully want to say, because I know there’s a chance someone reading it will either take it wrong, or be mad because I have my own different opinion on something. After all, when you can’t write your entire thoughts and feelings, what’s the point of writing at all?

So now you know what’s going on, just in case the next time you stumble upon this site and it’s marked ‘permission denied’.

It seems that most of my readers are already official followers, so this won’t affect those. You won’t even notice it’s private unless you’re not logged into your Blogger account. However, there are some others that read this blog that I know aren’t followers, and those readers will be affected. I could tell you who you are, but it’s a sure bet you already know.

Until next time….

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Ok, it’s not raining, but I felt this title was the most appropriate.

This is a post I never thought I would need to write, or even thought was important enough to write, but since I’ve had soooooo many people from The Ranch continually looking at this website hoping to cause problems, I felt I better say something.

A few weeks ago, I made some comments about how I was asked to come back to The Ranch to help the person that took over for me, because, well, she needed it, let’s be honest. However, it seems she, along with several others from The Ranch, can’t handle the fact that I spoke the truth. Perhaps they would have rather me have said a lie, or congratulated her? Unfortunately, I don’t sugarcoat bullshit, and they all know it.

This is MY website. MY little piece of the internet, and I speak the truth whether someone wants to hear it or not. If you don’t want to hear or see what I have to say, STOP LOOKING AT THIS WEBSITE. It’s honestly that simple.

This is where I write my feelings. My emotions. The thoughts that run around in my head. None of them are wrong. However, a certain few people seem to think I’m not allowed to voice my opinion, and state facts. I laugh at those people and think to myself, “Just go on with your life. I don’t bother you, so don’t bother me.”

So in closing, if you’re going to continue to watch this site waiting to see what I say next, great. I encourage it. If my thoughts, emotions, and feelings are that important to you, fantastic. I’m glad you’re finding entertainment in my ramblings. But if you can’t handle the words that flow from my fingertips, or you find them to be too much to handle because you can’t deal with someone telling the truth, then go away. You won’t hurt my feelings. Trust me.

Goodbye

Goodbye.
My dictionary defines it as a word used to express good wishes when parting or at the end of a conversation. But me, I define it as an end. An end to something that meant something so important to you, regardless whether positive or negative wishes are meant.

The word goodbye is something I say when I know I’ll never see someone again. An aunt that’s passed, a friend that moved away, a jail cellmate I once had, are all examples of times I’ve said that word out loud. Any other time, I just say bye. It’s a completely different form of the word (a secondary word, if you will), so it’s different. At least it is to me, and I’ve always been very careful about how I use it. I suppose if you think back hard enough, you’ll notice I’ve never said goodbye to you if we still currently talk. ;-)

Saturday, I went to the funeral service for boss#1’s youngest child. “A 22-year-old Rock Star, Pain in the Ass, and Badass”, his sister quotes. A few weeks ago, heroin took his life, and left the people around him with so many questions. I cannot even pretend to imagine what they are feeling, and I do not want to. They are in a deep cauldron of boiling pain, that only their own beliefs and strength can pull them from. It was a sad moment I hope to never live through, and I’m grateful I was able to express my sympathies to both of his parents and his siblings.

I wish their family the best in these hard times, and hope they pull themselves out of their sadness and disbelief.

After it was over, I said my verbal goodbyes to people I know I’ll never see again. And a few I hope I never do. It was bittersweet, but oh so desperately needed. I’m not angry. I’m not even upset. It’s more of a sign of relief. I don’t have to pretend anything anymore. And I don’t have to be nice to people that are otherwise, just a pain in the ass.

Peace out!

Truth

“Telling the truth and making someone cry, is better than telling a lie and making someone smile.”

The truth.
It sometimes hurts. It sometimes tears you down. It sometimes makes us realize that we didn’t really have all our shit together in the first place. And it sometimes sets you free.

Whatever the truth does to you, let it.

I don’t live my life for other people. I live it for ME. And right now, my life is pretty damn amazing. I don’t have to get up early and go to a job that doesn’t appreciate me. I don’t have to battle traffic on one of the busiest freeways in America. I don’t have to listen to other people complain about someone else not doing their job correctly. I don’t have to pretend to like someone just because they are my coworker. And I don’t have to trudge through muddy waters to get to where I’m going. (These are examples of things I hear on a daily basis from friends/family about their jobs.)

However, I do live a pretty realistic life. If I know I’m overwhelmed with something, I admit to it. I ask for help. I’m not afraid. There isn’t anyone in my life today, that will yell at me because I need assistance. There isn’t anyone in my life today, that will allow me to fail because they think I can do it all on my own. I worked for eight years in an office that at times, was extremely stressful. But you know what? I didn’t do it alone. I had help. I had people that watched over me and didn’t allow me to fail. They had confidence I knew exactly what I was doing, and that I would do it correctly. And 97% of the time, I did. Because I was good at it.

People don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed.

That is very true. The grass isn’t always greener. If you struggle, try harder. If you’re trying your hardest and still struggling, try even harder. Or, face the truth.

True.

Someone posted this on Facebook today, so thought I would share. I originally felt like it was put there just for me to see, but I know there are others out there that might need that reminder.

A blogging friend of mine has been down lately because she just had a miscarriage. Having had one myself, I understand the pain that brings. She’s in my prayers and I hope they continue to try. The miracle that comes of it, is TOTALLY worth the continued trying.  ;-)

I lost my stepdad last week. One of the only things in my 35 years, to literally make me fall to my knees. Maybe his leaving this earth makes room for another….?

Anything can happen in just one day.

Dear Papa

You died on a Monday.

9pm the night before, my beautiful wall clock began to chime. I looked over at it and instead of my usual satisfying look, I had a look of despair. Or maybe it was grief. I don’t know. Less than five minutes later, my phone rang.

By the tone in her voice, I knew something was wrong. Ultimately, Cancer kicked your ass. I even warned you not to give up!! I’m angry that you were lying to people about what was actually happening to you. I’m angry that you didn’t allow the people around you to help. Until it was too late.

There were a few last minutes things first thing Monday morning that Sis and I had to do, but were on the road by 12:15p. It was 12:20p, and Sis and I had just gotten on the freeway to start our 14.5hr drive to see you when we got the call you had passed. We weren’t happy by any means about the reason we were going up, but we were determined to make the best of our road trip. Unfortunately, that changed all of it.

The moment you hear THOSE words come out of someone’s mouth, it changes you. It changes everything about what you’re doing in that moment. Although I had come to terms with the fact that those words were coming, I kind of had hoped in the back of my mind, that you’d wait until we got there. I knew it wasn’t likely, but I still hoped.

RJ is pretty upset. The X says he cries a lot. I can’t blame him. I cry a lot too. Especially when I run across photos like this one where you’re teaching Ryan how to make garlic bread. I hope he never forgets how to make that.

I have so many questions I want to ask you. So many things that don’t make sense about the stories I’ve been hearing. I just wish I could talk to you one more time. Just once. I’d even listen to you tell me the story about those damn raccoons again.

I love you. All those times as a kid when I said I hated you, I was lying. I was too ashamed at those early ages to admit that I loved you more than I loved my own dad. I was made to feel guilty about caring for you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to see that until I was older. You were the male rock in my life. You taught me so much about life, and I can’t even begin to tell you how many of the things I do every single day, are fashioned after what you taught me. And every time someone leaves a light on in a room that isn’t occupied, I’ll continue to cuss under my breath in your honor.

 

Love, bones

Is the honeymoon over?

Working at and keeping a relationship satisfactory has never been something I’ve been particularly good at. All my exes can attest to that. My mind tends to wander into places it shouldn’t, and before long, I’m laying on the couch crying to RM#1 because I feel smothered by all my thoughts.

I’ve wrestled lately with the idea of moving. As much as I absolutely love RM#1 and RM#2, I kind of feel it’s time to move forward with life. Perhaps with SS. Unfortunately, that’s when my mind freezes on the subject, and won’t start back up again. The fear of moving in with someone isn’t as irrational as I’d like to think it is. Lots of people have fears about moving forward in relationships. Especially after only having dated for a few short months.

My hermit and antisocial behavior tends to keep me locked up and away from people, so the thought of allowing someone else to invade my space, scares me. I’m afraid I’ll dissolve into the relationship. First, I’ll give up my place. Then, I’ll start giving up my taste. Compromising on furniture, clothes, where we eat. Then, one day, I’m just an appendage to someone else. No thoughts and no life of my own. I don’t want that. I want to continue to be my own person, not the ‘other half’ of someone else.

Maybe I just need to step back and take a break. Look at the big picture from a distance. That can’t be unhealthy, right?

Life Experiences

It’s 3AM and these life experiences are trying to get my attention again. Lately, my mind has this sneaky way of attacking me in the middle of the night while I am sound asleep. It attacks me by waking me up and sticking a thought in there for me to chew on. It’s never a deep thought, just a simple one that my ego can grab hold of like, “Why did she have to post that picture on Facebook?” You know, important stuff like that.

The problem is, a thought like that attaches to deep-seeded issues centered around trust. These issues are hard-wired in my brain from the past and once the thought starts down that pathway, all the emotional pain from those old experiences comes rushing up to the surface.

It’s like I’m back in high school. I’m seventeen and all I care about it trying to make people like me so I wasn’t so sad and alone. This usually in turn meant sleeping with guys who claimed to care about me. Or even junior high. My seventh grade boyfriend, shows up the first day of eighth grade to tell me that his mommy won’t let him be my boyfriend anymore because she thinks I’m too old for him and am going to teach him bad things. (Please know that in 7th and 8th grade, Catholic school had made me a huge pussy and I had yet to do anything bad or against my parents wishes.)

We all have this stuff. It’s part of growing up, of experiencing relationships and life. I get to see where I made old agreements not to trust and ultimately how I became untrustworthy myself. It hurts to look inside and discover these truths and also to face the pain that comes when my mind connects new experiences with old ones. Sometimes I’d like to do what Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet did in “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”. I’d like to just erase it all. Erase those old experiences, erase the new ones which are triggering the same emotions. Start fresh with a spotless mind.

But the reality is, I’m in this life to grow and I know through my experience that when I feel pain, it means I’m growing. I have a choice in these moments to run away from the pain or to walk through it. I’ve done a lot of running in the past. There are so many things to cover it up: alcohol, drugs, work, sex, food, shopping. The problem is, when I run, the pain just gets covered up and pushed down inside, only to come out again with more intensity later on or perhaps create illness and disease.

So instead of running, I do my best today to face pain by dealing with it in the moment. In times like this when it strikes in the middle of the night, I write, get it out of my head and onto paper. Lately, there have been pages and pages of stuff and I’m carrying my journal with me everywhere. At other times, I call a friend and talk it out. I have a therapist. I have a spiritual advisor. I have learned that I can’t do this by myself and as hard as it is to ask for help sometimes, I feel a great sense of relief every time I do.

I guess this path I’m on is my own version of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”. This is what it means to be a grown up. By facing my issues head on, I am attempting to re-wire those old pathways in my brain with new thoughts and beliefs. In doing so, the old thoughts like, “men can’t be trusted” are slowly fading away each time I recognize them. My new experiences can be just that, new. They don’t have to be connected to the painful ones from the past. The pain suddenly becomes the admission price to a new life.

Positivity

Does being positive really make a difference to how your day turns out?

Negativity – Webster describes negativity as lacking positive qualities; especially disagreeable. marked by features of hostility, withdrawal, or pessimism that hinder or oppose constructive treatment or development

Negativity has been the root of my evils for years. I have always seen the glass as 1/2 empty, and more times than not, not willing to adjust that way of thinking. It’s a part of me that is a weakness, but it’s part of me nonetheless. For six years, Jeffy tried to get me to be more positive. Tried and tried till he was red in the face. I just wouldn’t budge. Almost like it wasn’t important enough to me.

A few nights ago, New Guy came over to keep me company. I get kind of lonely when I’m housesitting. Anyway, with him, he brought a lottery ticket. I have always scoffed at lottery tickets, and didn’t make an exception this time.

He seemed a little annoyed irritated concerned that my negativity was too much. He explained that a negative attitude was not acceptable. It would cloud my outlook on life. And was just generally toxic for me. And that I needed to change my way of thinking ASAP.

I immediately went on the defense, asking what difference my outlook about a lottery ticket would make on the outcome of it. I mean, just because I keep saying “I’m gonna be a winner on this scratch off” as I’m scratching, doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen. Those tickets are preprinted and have no way of changing into winning tickets once they’re in the hand of the purchaser. He continued to explain, now more in general detail than lottery ticket talk, and my defensive walls started to come down. He wasn’t attacking me, just giving me some sound advice.

So I ask you this, Readers.

Do you have a better day when your outlook is positive instead of negative? Do things in life “work out better” for someone with a positive attitude?

Thoughts?

It sent a shock to my system

“Dad is back in the hospital. Something with his heart…”

Sitting at my desk today, just relaxing because it’s so slow, and iVal makes that familiar text message sound. I slowly slide my finger across the screen to unlock it, trying to be careful not to move the phone and lose the small amount of service that I can get in the canyon, and the message pops up. For the first time since I’ve been working at The Ranch, I said a cuss word that wasn’t directed AT someone.

I was shocked that he was back in the hospital. It seemed like he was doing so well. At least according to what Sis had been telling me. I told her to keep me informed, and I walked out to the truck to take a deep breath. Know what else I did? I pushed all my feelings about religion and God out of my mind for a moment, and laid my head on the steering wheel. I then said an honest, from the heart, prayer. For the first time in years.

Four hours later, I get my first update. Now, to be honest, I’d kind of gone about my day and forgotten about what was going on in the background. I knew that Sis and Squid were headed up to the hospital to see what was happening, but I wasn’t really thinking about it. Until that moment.

Kidneys shut down. He passed out and woke up to them resuscitating him with paddles.

For the first time in 34 years, I cried for my dad because I was scared for him. I sat down in my chair, and the tears were coming whether I wanted them to or not. My mind was telling me one thing, but my heart was aching with such force, the tears wouldn’t stop.

I called Squid immediately and before he could even say hello, I was blurting out, “I hate him sooo much, but I can’t stop crying. What is wrong? Why??”

I’ve been sitting here all night, thinking about nothing else. It’s come down to this….

No matter how I feel about my dad, he’ll never be able to make up for all those horrible years. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, that he could say, that would make it better. However, I can’t beat myself up for being sad. He is my dad, after all. And even though most of the time I spent with him over my lifetime, sucked, it didn’t all.

And this is why

I did it. It’s done. Over with. Never have to see him again. <sigh>

Last night, Jeffy stopped by to pick up the stuff I had of his. It was a quick visit. Less than five minutes. Five minutes I wish I wasn’t there for.

I had been sitting out on the front porch, hanging out with the dogs. Wasn’t too hot out, so I let them run around the front for a while. The backyard gets boring to them, I’m sure. Different smells in the front keep them busy for hours.

I got up to do something in the bedroom, and I could hear his car pull up. Of course, on the ONE time I didn’t want to see him, he drove the ‘stang. Fucking figures.

He was already headed back to his car when I got back out front. Why I didn’t just leave it alone, I’ll never know. Why I had to go out there and say hi, I’ll never know. But I did.

He looked the same. And that made me smile. He smiled back, and I instantly felt my knees getting week. Something about that smile of his. I knew the best thing to do was wave goodbye and walk back into the house, but that’s not what I did. Nope. Val never takes the easy route. Instead, I stood there, listening to him tell me about places he had been and was headed to for work, and about cars he had been playing with. I felt a feeling of happiness for him. Happy to see him so thrilled and excited about work. After watching him suffer through the school district and then the dental lab, he deserves this happiness. And although I’m not there to reap the benefits, I’m happy that I watched him transform into a successful person.

He fired up the car, and I got chills. There’s just something about that car that has always turned me on. And I think he knows that.

As he drove away, I stood there listening to the sound of American Muscle fade into the wind, wishing he’d turn around and profess his love for me. I cried. Right there on the front porch. Knowing I wouldn’t ever see him again, tugged at my heart harder than I figured it would.

I fucking miss him. Yep. I sure do.

Unfiltered Thoughts

Today, I’m back at one of my favorite houses to housesit. I’m still holding on to the stuff that belongs to Jeffy, and figured I’d let him know that for the next five weeks, he shouldn’t attempt to pick it up from my house. I won’t be there.

I casually mentioned that I wondered why he still looked at this blog (seeing how neither of us want anything to do with the other), but the response I got was generic. Not what I had actually hoped he would say. But that’s typical Jeffy. Rarely said anything I actually wanted to hear. :-/

Here’s some unfiltered thoughts…

8:30am call time is no big deal. Having to be at the ranch by 6am to load animals isn’t the worst thing that could happen on a Friday. Shut the hell up and just do your job.

I will never stop calling him Jeffy.

I’m so sick and tired of hearing production people say that a Boxer is too vicious looking to represent their dog food. Boxers eat dog food too. And you know what? Most Boxer owners I know, would LOVE to see their favorite breed represented. Just sayin’.

It gives me anxiety when I think about having to see Jeffy face to face. I know what feelings will come flooding to the surface when I see him. I know what thoughts will run through my head, and I know what naughty things I’ll want him to do to me. I wish I could leave the stuff on the front porch in a bag, but I know better. He’d be mad that I left his stuff sitting around unsupervised. Can’t say I blame him.

Every time I look out my office window at my car, I get tears in my eyes. I’m very sad that she’s hurting. I’m very sad that I’ll have to get rid of her. Very very sad. Especially since I’m beyond nervous about having a car payment. Haven’t had one of those since I was married. (Damn divorces.)

I fucking miss him. I’m not gonna lie. I miss him A LOT. It’s normal, I know. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want him back in my life, I just miss him. I miss talking about NASCAR. I miss sharing stories about new animals brought to the house. I miss asking questions that I know will get me a 15 minute lesson. I just fucking miss it.

I had a small vacation to San Francisco planned, but ended up having to pull out of it. I was really looking forward to seeing Alcatraz. Haven’t ever been there. And there’s just something special about San Fran that I love. But, with a new car payment in my near future, a trip just isn’t in the cards. (Being adult enough to know that, kinda sucks.)

My dad has guns that he wants to sell. Oh how I wish I was able to possess them. I would kindly take them off his hands. Darn felony laws. :-/

That’s enough thoughts for one day. Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the baby owl at our house.