On Tuesday Hubs turned 48.

We searched for a gift that he’d think was great.

We searched all over, both high and low

But the perfect gift? It didn’t show.

Son1 said, “Let’s take Dad on a trip”

But where to go? A coin we’ll flip!

If I tell you where, can you keep it hush?

Well, we’ll see a Garden that’s named Busch.

We’ll ride some rides and we’ll have fun

On our weekend trip out in the sun.

So now I’m off–we’ll be seein’ ya!

We’re taking Hubs down to Virginia!

~~~~~~~~~~

I’m packing today. We leave tomorrow and return Sunday. Have a great Labor day Weekend. Have fun and stay safe.  

I have been exercising. No, seriously. I have been paying attention. I have been walking more faithfully. I pulled out my weights. I pulled out my treadmill for really hot or rainy days. I’m tired of carrying this lard with me.

Most of my walking is done in the morning. It’s cooler. The streets are quieter. And the dog seems to like it too. Most times I manage to get home again early enough to shower or just sit down to watch Good Morning America before the kids get here. It’s been working out good for me.

Babygirl also walks. She meets a friend and they go walking almost every day. They leave well after I get home, and sometimes she is not even aware that I have left the house and returned.

Here’s what I didn’t know.

Her friend has been walking to lose weight too. He used to weigh 245 lbs. at the beginning of the summer. Now he weighs 216 lbs. and is still working at it. She has been his ‘trainer’. She’s been pushing him and encouraging him not to give up.

Tonight, Hubs and I decided to walk after dinner. Since she had just returned from a softball game, and was already in her workout clothes, she decided to go with us. We took our normal route. Not too long, not too short.

And then things got ugly.

As we neared the point of returning home, she called me a wuss. “You call that a walk?” THEM’S FIGHTING WORDS!!

So we accepted the challenge.

We saw parts of our town that we never knew existed. We saw the homes of  ‘Old Money’- those homes with boats, Lexuses and BMW’s in the wrap-around driveways. We saw gardens galore (that itself was a whole other nightmare! Oh, the skeeters!!))

We walked aproximately 2.5 - 3 miles. (Compared to the usual ONE mile!) We went up hills and down. We went over the river and through the woods. Literally. Well, to be honest it was more like a creek, but hey, there was still water involved!

We got home 2 hours after left we left. (Can that be right? Wouldn’t that mean we actually walked further than 3 miles? I sure as hell feel like it. I’ll have to tell Hubs to drive that route and measure the mileage.)

My left foot has a blister. My knees are killing me. Not wearing a sports bra  means that my boobies jiggled like jello and now they hurt too. I think  even my hair hurts.

I will definitely be moaning this Monday morning. But it’s a good hurt.

I think I have found a personal trainer that will work for food!

It was a hot day in August. Just like most of those days, it was sweltering and extremely humid. But oh, the sun was shining.

I woke up at 6am because it was something I had done for the preceding 4 years. Once I got into the habit, my internal clock didn’t want to be reset. I showered. I ate a bowl of cereal and threw a few things into a bag. I’d be needing them later, because I wasn’t coming back once I left. I putzed around some more, walked our Great Dane, and then got down to business.

After planning for little over a month, I was getting married at noon.

I did my own hair. I put on my own make-up. Mom knocked on my bedroom to ask if I needed any help getting ready. My answer was No. If I had been a more girly-girl, I might have known that it was something moms did with their daughters on the day of their wedding. If I could go back to that day, I’d have said Yes.

The photographer (the brother of my future BIL) showed up and began taking pictures of my family, including my Mom-Mom and Great Mom-Mom. I got annoyed as the humidity began to muss my hair. (What’s hairspray?) Finally we headed for the church.

The first thing I saw when I got out of Dad’s car was an ex-boyfriend. He wanted to see if I’d go through with it. “I can drive you away if you want…” , he said. I declined the offer. The next person I saw was a guy I had known since third grade. He was also a friend of Hubs. “Who’da thunk I’d be watching you marry one of my best friends?”, he said. Two years later, I’d be saying “Who’da thunk you would be my BIL?” He is still my BIL.

Finally the moment came. The organ started and I watched my sister, who was also my maid-of-honor, walk down the aisle. At that second, Dad whispered to me that the car was gassed and outside of the church doors. “You don’t have to do this.” I wasn’t great at taking advice and I didn’t do it then either.

Then the clock struck twelve. The bells of the church began to ring the familiar “Angelus” of prayer. It rang every day at noon and that Saturday was no different. I didn’t care. It was a sign. I felt that they were chiming for me. I walked down the aisle with my father to attend my meeting with destiny.

Hubs isn’t from a Catholic family. We decided to get married in my Church but with an abbreviated ceremony. (Blessings, readings and vows.) My brothers were the altar servers. As they made faces behind  the priest’s back, I tried my hardest not to laugh. A girl I had known since the age of six sang “Morning Has Broken”. We vowed to ’love and honor’ each other. (I made sure there was no ‘obey’!) The entire service lasted twenty minutes.

Hub’s godfather catered our reception. It was held in a local firehall.  Our mothers decorated with streamers and bells and paper table cloths. Only our family and very few of our friends were there. The kid I played stickball with was there and my best friend from high school was there. Another friend, who said “she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to be invited to her friend’s wedding” crashed the party. Aunt Helen took off her slip and waved it above her head as she danced. The best man passed out while dancing with one of our cousins. One of the waiters got drunk on the free booze and threw up all over the rest room. It was one hell of a party. It is still remembered fondly by everyone who was in  attendance that day.

We left early with the intention of changing our clothes and going back to our families houses. Instead, we sat down on the couch in our little apartment and promptly fell asleep. We let everyone make their own assumptions as to what we were doing. Eventually, we made our stops and said goodbyes. We spent the night in a hotel near the airport and left for the Chesapeake Bay the next morning.

Every detail of that day is etched in my mind like it was yesterday. Hubs can recall the guest list, what people talked about and what music was played. Friends often recall the fact that once the music started, the dance floor was never empty.

Our wedding cost our parents almost $2000. Seriously. My gown and my sister’s gown were $20 each. They were simple prom gowns-the same style-mine white, hers blue. Someone had ordered them, had them tailored and never picked them up. I wore a wreath of baby’s breath in my hair and that was only because my godmother insisted. (You can’t get married in the house of the Lord without your head covered!) I carried daisies. I wore Great Mom-Mom’s pearl earrings. Mom-Mom made the cake.

I remember that I never got nervous. I remember that I never had a doubt.

I remember it all because it was the best day of my life.

I was on the phone tonight with my brother (the older of the two) and it was so weird, but natural at the same time. We don’t usually talk unless it’s important. We both believe that “no news is good news” and we are content to leave things that way. The strange thing is, that even though we don’t ‘chat’ often or even visit (He lives 5 minutes away), we never seem to be missing anything that is going on in each other’s lives.

His kids are new teenagers. (13 and 14) I have been there, done that. My kids are older. He hasn’t grown up so much that he doesn’t remember what it’s like. Therefore we have a ‘touch’ spot for reference. He gets what I am going through and I get what his life is like.

We are the “responsible” ones. We have families. We have good kids. We have wonderful relationships with our spouses. When it comes to the other brother and the sister, we both get equally frustrated with their choices in child rearing, relationships, drinking, womanizing, you get the drift… I get to deal with her and he gets to deal with him. It is as fair as you get in that situation.

We were on the phone for an hour and a half, talking about the kids growing up so fast, How is work?, How’s your honey?, Have you visited Mom lately?, Did you watch the Phillies the other night? Nothing and everything.

We got ready to hang up and just before good-bye, he said, “Love you, Sis.” I said “Love you too.”

I know how he feels. He knows how I feel. We don’t say it often, but we know.

It was nice to hear it tonight.

I wanted to post something frivolous, but instead my brain was bombarded with questions that just keep swirling round and round…….

Why do families go crazy with greed when it comes to inheritance? Not just monetary greed, either. Some people seem to think that their memories of the deceased are more important than someone else’s.

Why does a daughter with no sons need a man’s cuff links or tie pin? Shouldn’t they be given to someone who will use them? Just because a son doesn’t have a curio cabinet, does that mean he is not entitled to have some of his mother’s collectable knick-knacks?

Why is it considered wrong for someone to throw their hands up and decide that rather than fight with their siblings, they would prefer to sell something and split the money with their vultures family even though it will cause temporary hardship to themself?

Why is it acceptable for four people to decide what should be done for six? Do the other two get no opinion? Maybe they are the two who have been run over all of their lives by the bulldozers of the dominant personalities…..or maybe they just missed ‘that meeting’.

I am disappointed in my in-laws. As close and loving as they been on the surface, suddenly true colors are being seen.

Vacation……What can I say? I relaxed. And I umm……..well, I relaxed, there’s that. Let me ’splain:

We left for the shore with a trunk packed to the tippy top. (Babygirl and her friend K supposedly packed frugally…HAH!) Guess what I saw along the way? Nine raccoons sleeping along the side of the road (actually two were sleeping in the center of the road…..How’d they do that?) I saw one deer basking in the sun with its ears touching the center of his back (limber devil!) And as we drove along, a rafter of wild turkeys crossed the road in front of us. (Yes, the term is ‘rafter’–I looked it up) Luckily no one was behind us and we could slow down. Those bastards took their damn sweet time!

We checked in just in time for a horrendous storm. Lightning struck the lightning rod on the motel across the street from us. I ran into the bathroom covering my ears because the resulting clap of thunder scared the shit out of me. (Note: I did not say “bejeebers”. I seriously meant “shit“!) After the rain stopped, we took a walk but still kept it an early night.

The next morning we awoke to FOG. Dense, I-can’t-see-across-the-street fog. It took forever to burn off.  The fog returned every day to shroud the beach at least until 11am. We went to the beach where we sat and read and listened to music. And then we went back to the motel for a dip in the pool, a shower, a nap and then dinner. Repeat that for the next few days and that’s pretty much what we did.

Throw in walks along the Boardwalk, bike rides from one end of the island to the other, and a game of mini-golf. My tan is magnificent, and I am so relaxed. I can’t remember the last time I felt so stress-free.

Son2 came home to have his nose set on Wednesday. He returned to work on Thursday. I wished he had stayed for the rest of the week.

I didn’t cook. I didn’t do laundry (even though there were laundry facilities) Hubs said I should but I claimed that I couldn’t find the laundry room. I suppose I could have followed the scent of fabric softener, but who needs that?

Sunrise-the day we left.

I missed my puppy terribly. I was lucky that I didn’t have to send him to a kennel. My friend Lostmahead kept him at her house where he had a boo-boo once or twice, never bit her kids, and was called “well-behaved” by her husband (who I suspect was not thrilled by their visitor)

Now I’m home. You people sure were busy, so there is much to catch up on. I’m getting crampy fingers, so I’ll stop here and start reading!

Once upon a time, Hubs did a job that required him to get up in the middle of the night to go to work. He worked in businesses that had to be closed in order for him to work, or in areas where motor traffic would be a danger to him. The point is, he’d leave me alone in the wee hours.

Babygirl had just been born, but she was a very good newborn, who slept through the night. In fact, she slept through the night until she was two. This meant that even though I was awake at two, three or four am , I had nothing to do.

Why did I need something to do? Because I find it hard to sleep alone.

I can sleep in the bed alone when I am sick or when I am exhausted. I know that Hubs is in the next room and it’s comforting. I can go to sleep when I know that he is getting up to go to work. He will leave at five or six and I can definitely go right back to sleep. But those late night jobs were sometimes in areas that left him vulnerable to crime or where he was working alone with no backup in case of injury and that thought kept me awake.

He left a short time ago. He left to work in another state and he will stay overnight and come home Friday. It is raining, so I will sit here typing this while I worry about him driving on the highway. I will most likely fall asleep again around 8am. That is when I expect him to call and let me know that he made it to his destination.

After all this time being married, I certainly enjoy being able to stretch out on the bed. I like the comfort of the “middle”. I can fall asleep with the TV on if I feel like doing so.  But  I miss the certainty that come with knowing exactly where he is. Not in a “hovering wife” kind of way, but differently. I find it hard to explain.

Tonght (or more precisely this morning), I have finished doing laundry and will now fold it. I am just about finished packing for vacation. My house is pretty much clean and the dishes are done. What is left?

What’s left is to snuggle with my puppy and wait for the phone call that will finally put me back to sleep.

Today I realized that  I have bounced. Not the straightforward, up/down bounce, but more like the “bounced off a pebble and skewed off to the left” kind of bounce.

The guys returned to work and I have Son1’s girl, J, here with me. Laundry is getting done, clothes are folded and are making it into the drawers, and other signs of routine are beginning to unfold. But it’s not the same.

We’ve spent the past week or so with family. Some traveled up here from Maryland and Florida and others have traveled down from State College. Weddings and funerals as the saying goes…..

Hub’s routine will slowly change. He can’t pop in to see Dad before or after work. Dad always felt like part of the business when Hubs described the  day-to-day grind and when he mentioned the names of the builders that Dad had done business with.

My routine is easier to get back into. The kids take my mind off of things. The little chores can be done with little thought.But still, the mind tends to wander…

My husband lost his father and best friend. It has been devastating to watch.

I, on the other hand, still have both of my parents. My paternal grandfather died when I was nine. I really didn’t understand. My paternal grandmother is still alive. She will be 96 this year.My maternal grandparents lived to the ages of 103 and 105. I met them only once in my life.

As I tried to comfort my children, I never said that “I know how you feel”. I don’t. They were incredibly close to their grandparents. I cannot imagine.

When my own parents die, will I be able to bounce ever again? As much as I can’t stand Mom’s attitude sometimes, she is still MOM. I dread seeing my Dad live without her. I would miss my Dad horribly. He understands me deeper than I think I understand myself. What would I do without him? What would Mom do without him?

Losing someone is like opening a gate into the mind. The ‘what ifs’ come forward begging to be considered. The fears hidden in the deepest recesses catch a glimpse of light and are visible. I feel like a child in the middle of the night, wondering what is lurking behind the closet door.

It is scary.

I called my mom (because it’s be a while with everything that has been going on) We said hello and I asked her how she and Daddy have been. I told her what was what  with FIL and she said she already knew. Son1 had run into my brother and filled him in.

What the Fuck?

Why didn’t she call me? She could have asked how I was doing. She has to know how hard it is to watch someone waste away! She could have stopped by to see if I needed anything. She could have asked how my husband was doing! She could have asked how my kids were doing! She’s my mother!

Why didn’t my brother call? I’m sure he told my sister and other brother. Why didn’t they call? They can all raise fucking hell if I don’t call a niece or nephew for their birthday. Oh God Forbid!!  They can stop talking to me if I pass on a Super Bowl party.

Fuck ‘em. I’m too pissed for words.

A few months ago, I asked for your strength and you guys came through with gallons. I will need to go to the well once more.

My father-in -law has been in the hospital since before Father’s Day. There are so many medical issues going on with him that there is no way for me to get into it all. But I need to share this.

Dad has gotten to the point where medicine cannot help him, other than to keep him comfortable. The hospital has declared him stable and wants him released to a nursing home or to private in-home nursing care. Neither of these things will last long because his heart is also failing. This means that we’d have to call 911 repeatedly and have him returned to the hospital over and over.

Therefore, he is coming home today. He is stopping his dialysis. His doctors are giving him two weeks (that is optimistic) We are hoping that it will only be for a weekend. I can’t bear for it to take much longer than that.

I love him. As simple as that. I am crying as I type these words. I need to hold up my husband. I need to hold up my children.

I need you to hold me up.