I’m completely and utterly drained. This project I’m working on is taking over my life. This is the last week however. Hopefully next week I can come back to my usual self.
Mom.
Dear Mom,
You’re mom. You’re the one who raised me. You’re the one who loved me when she didn’t. You’re the one who wanted me when she didn’t. You’re the one who rocked me to sleep when I couldn’t stop crying – when she didn’t come back. You’re the one who’s kissed the boo boos. You’re the one who got all ghetto (as only a white chick with a blonde fro’ and 5’2″ can) on the mother of the kid at that party – you know the one. We’ve had so many ups and downs – and then more downs. And yet – despite all that – you’re still here. You’re still with me. You’re still for me.
You’re the one my kids go to get sneaked gum (and jelly beans – and popsicles). You’re the one who will let them stay up late to watch tv with you. You spoil the kids as only grandparents can and have license to do.
You still bail us out financially. You still don’t blink an eye at paying for a bill, ’cause you know I’m the only kid who’ll pay you back.
You love those kids. Love them so much that I sometimes get jealous. Isn’t that strange?
But mom.
Please.
Don’t die. I already had one die. You can’t die too. This kidney thing? It’s gotta stop. I can’t imagine making it through life without the one person – the only person – who actually was happy I existed as a baby. You know what the backs of my ears looked like. You cannot die. Robert then Jeannette. Not you too. I don’t know how I’ll survive.
I’ll never send this to you. Never ever. It would upset you. It would upset you that I’m upset. And that’s why I won’t send it. You’re the only one other than Jay that ever got upset on my behalf. So you won’t get this – your heart can’t take it. I know that. That’s why with you? We won’t talk about death. We’ll talk about life. And the kids. And husbands.
Just please? Hang on a little longer.
Love,
Michele
I believe.
Tell It To Me Tuesday Do you believe in ghosts?
Yes, in fact, I do.
There are those in the Christian community that would say I’m wrong to believe that. I don’t care. You see, Biblically, there’s nothing that says that they don’t – in addition – there’s nothing that says God doesn’t have work for us after we pass.
My grandma was 90 years old when she died. I was 17. In fact I sleep now in the room she died in. Her passing was difficult, as we cared for her in her home in 24 hour shifts. About 2 months after she died, I had vocabulary homework. In order to do it, I had to get out this huge dictionary. I decided that I was NOT going to do my homework. I didn’t feel like it. I put the dictionary back on to it’s shelf, and turned to go. Out of the blue I got hit in the head. By a picture of my grandma. I said, “Okay, okay, I’ll do it.” I didn’t my vocabulary homework.
My other experiences are from a time in my life that I would rather forget – but they were real none-the-less.
Yes. I absolutely believe in ghosts. I believe in lots of things.
Work Avoidance
September and October hate me
So… I just did my timecard. Last week clocked 52 hours. I suppose 12 hours at time 1/2 is good. But dude. Getting phone calls at midnight on Thursday nights isn’t my idea of a good time. Nor is calling London on my home phone on the weekends. There’s an expense report in my future.
Of course the project isn’t yet over by far.
Then Poe & Joseph got a stomach bug over night. They’re tag teaming the puking. We have such a small house that you can hear everything. So one hears the other, and it starts the next one up. So I try to call in sick to work today – because Poe can’t help Joseph with his own head in the bowl. But my boss is sick too. So I need to cover the office anyway.
And to top it all off, got my period, which we all know makes me an ecstatically beautiful person to be around.
And YOU try making changes to someone’s travel halfway around the world when your network is down. I can sit and write an entry – but can’t get into the travel website.
I blame Jeannette.
Why?
Everything started going downhill when she died.
Remember that letter I wrote her? Yeah. She’s now fired.
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