Imagine this: 6PM Christmas Eve. I enter a crowded grocery store in Long Beach, CA. Yeah, I can be a bit of a masochist at times. anyway, i realized I was nearly out of paper towels, and I needed oranges for tomorrow's breakfast, so I braved the insanity. Imagine my surprise/horror when I saw an ENTIRE row devoted to Valentine's Day! On Christmas Eve! What The Actual FUCK???!!! Anyway, I got in the shortest long line (9 people in front of me) and waited. I'm still a bit behind in my cooking/baking, and some gifts won't be arriving until Saturday (via Amazon) but at least that part is done. My Christmas Gift:
Due
to several requests, I'm sharing my Mother's recipe for Christmas
Pork. The fun part was reducing the recipe from what I normally do
(5+ lbs of pork, nearly 3 large bottles of red wine vinegar, and a
full bottle of red wine plus more heads of garlic than I care to
admit) to what "normal" people do. (about a pound of pork)
Here is the base recipe (measurements of seasonings are to taste, but
it is very garlicky)
Christmas
Pork (Portuguese Recipe)
1 lb Pork cut into cubes 1 1/2 cups
red wine vinegar 3/4 cup dry red wine 1
bay leaf 1 large whole garlic head with cloves
sliced thin 1 teaspoon salt pepper
(just a little) 1/2 teaspoon Italian seasoning Mix together vinegar, red wine, garlic, salt, bay leaf,
pepper, and Italian seasoning in large bowl. Add pork, and stir well.
Make sure pork cubes are covered. Refrigerate minimum overnight,
better if 24 hours. Stir occasionally. On Christmas morning (about 11, because I like to sleep
in) I drain the pork on a paper towel, then melt about 1/2 cube of
butter in a large skillet. Add the pork to the skillet in batches to
prevent crowding; cook and stir until completely browned and no
longer pink in the center. Add more butter as necessary.DO
NOT USE MARGARINE OR OIL! Now, you might ask then what? Make plain scrambled eggs,
and serve them together. For real authenticity, serve oranges cut in
quarters on the side. Now, the purpose for the orange is twofold.
One, it cuts on the garlic breath, two, it reduces the gas.
Woke up 4AM couldn't sleep, so here I am. I know it's
Christmas Eve, but since Shilo works on Christmas, I'm making Christmas
dinner tonight (heaven knows how I'll do it next year!)
Anyway, Christmas dinner tonight, Christmas breakfast tomorrow on
Christmas day. My son Babyman is with me, and he'll visit his dad's side
of the family with Jonathan (who is feeling better) tomorrow. (Thank you
for the prayers)
In the meantime, I've been trying (to no avail) to remember Mom's
recipe for Christmas pork, and I even bought the pork and wine
yesterday. I've made it a few times over the years when she was alive,
and I even made it my first Christmas after marrying Shilo 4 years ago.
I finally went online this morning (since I couldn't sleep) and found
a variation of it that was close enough to the original that I've
remembered Mom's recipe (gotta buy GARLIC!!!) so I'm really looking
forward to eating it with scrambled eggs and orange rolls on Christmas
morning. I'm also trying a new (to me) recipe for ham that you make in
the crockpot today for dinner. If you're curious, I'm making chili with
Stitch on Christmas Day for dinner.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to ALL! Remember, it's not the
date on the calendar that counts, it's the spirit in how you celebrate
it!
I had my accident, and broke my right humerus in two places.The following afternoon, my Mentor lost his life after suffering a series of major strokes. He was 64.
Today I'm mostly healed, although I sometimes have residual pain. There are still some things I'm unable to do in spite of the many hours of PT that I endured. Still, I'm grateful for the movement I have, and I know what a long way I've come since then.
On July 13th, I turned 56. A few nights later, Shilo and Stitch took me out to dinner. It was a fun night, and I'm glad we went out.
On July 21st, I woke up to this email:
There were 2 other emails in addition to this one. A total of $3,666 and some change was taken from my accounts. Note that the one above is marked "HOUSEHOLD." Keep in mind that while these accounts all have my name on it. not a single penny is mine. The money belonged to Stitch and Shilo. It was the money we use for rent, utilities, car insurance and gasoline so Shilo can get to and from work every day (75 miles roundtrip!)
HOW DID THIS HAPPEN???!!!
is a question we've been asked by others. It's simple, and yet not so simple. Our theory is that sometime in March wile we were moving a Summons was handed to someone (my guess is my oldest son age 33) and it wasn't given to me. The court date came, and a default judgement was made, so my funds were seized.
Shilo drove me to the Van Nuys Courthouse and we were told to call the Attorney for the other side. They didn't care that the money wasn't "mine" all they cared about was that they got "their" money.
Over the weekend both Shilo and Stitch (together and separately) applied for loans from at least 20 different companies with each one getting rejected. As a last-ditch effort, I opened a Go Fund Me page. This isn't my proudest moment. I don't like showing my vulnerabilities, and I DETEST asking for help, but like my Mom always told me "You don't get if you don't ask;" and this is truly an emergency. If you are willing or able to help, the link is below. Also, if you want to share, it would be appreciated.
If you are offended by Religion (in general) what happens to a body
when someone dies, terrorists (in general). Love or loss of body
function, please leave now. I got nothing for you.
It was bound to happen eventually. Using edibles for pain requires
trial and error. My morning routine of starting with breakfast and a
sour strawberry straw was only working until about 3PM, and then I would
eat a cola bottle to get me through the rest of the day, and it wasn't
quite working. I was debating this yesterday when I woke up. I figured
I'd see how I did with two sour strawberry straws (about 36mg) and go
from there.
I got my edible bag (a purse that has my edibles in it) and noticed a
caramel fudge that was 35 mg. I decided to eat it. I mean, what harm
could there be? I put the sour strawberry straws away, and ate the
caramel fudge instead. It tasted good. I played games on my phone
waiting for it to work.
About an hour later, it happened. My vision got blurry, my body got
warm, and my face was numb. The warmth kept washing over me, and my
heartbeat skyrocketed. I thought I was going to die. I know
that I'd have to consume more than I could possibly eat to actually
overdose, and even then, it wouldn't kill me. I even knew it at that
point, but my heart was pounding so hard, I was afraid.
I remember saying that I didn't want to die yet because I want to see
my (overdue) grandson first. I put on my CPAP to help me breathe, and
then I asked Shilo what would happen if I stopped breathing. Then I said
"Nevermind, my lungs will just fill with air and then explode in my
chest cavity." Then I went on about how when I died my mouth would pop
open, so the air would rush out through it, and how it was a good thing I
had on a diaper because I didn't want to piss and shit on the recliner
and ruin it.
Then the inquisition started. The best way to explain it was that
questions formed in my head about my life, and I had to answer out loud.
I said That I believe in God, and I explained my belief regarding The
Father, Son and Holy Ghost. I explained that I also believe that Satan
is as real as God is, and that I believe in Heaven and hell. I asked
about purgatory, and I said that I feel earth is purgatory, but I wasn't
sure. I didn't get an answer.
I was asked about love. Could I feel enough love for everyone? Could I
really forgive everyone, and find love in my heart for them? I found
the forgiveness for everyone, including myself. Then I told them that
since my Mom could do it, I could too. I even went on to say that I knew
(person) asked forgiveness for the mean way she acted towards me, so I
could forgive her and love her as well. I said that everyone who died
before me had gone through this, and I knew it was the only right thing
to do. I let go of my anger.
I saw where I held certain people to a standard that I have only
recently reached myself. How dare I be angry at Jonathan's (now-ex)
girlfriend for what she did, when I've done things I'm not proud of
either? I remembered all the things I did and I explained why I did
them, and how I could have handled it better.
I discussed that I realized how fortunate I was to be where I am.
Soldiers aren't gunning down people in the street, and we aren't being
bombed. Girls aren't being forced to marry and have kids before they're
12.
I asked Shilo what time it was, and was surprised it had only been 10 minutes. It felt like HOURS.
I went back to the inquisition. I said "God knows I'm not perfect." and
then I laughed, because for all I knew, it was God asking the
questions.
I talked about my mental health, and how I hated being treated like I
was fragile just because of the depression, PTSD et.al. I hate that
there is a stigma. Why not just accept the mental illness? See the whole
person. Don't be afraid.
I talked about my fears. I realized I was less afraid by telling my
fears. It got to the point I laughed after saying the words "I'm
afraid." The truth is that because I believe on God, God watches over
me, so I don't have to be afraid.
I talked about prayer and I explained that I felt it must be like being an "A list" celebrity. Everyone
wants a piece of you. You have no privacy. All the millions of
requests coming in at once. Why should I bother God with my concerns
when there are so many people who are suffering more than me?
I was reminded that I need to stop being so selfish. "See the big picture, think globally." How do my actions affect others?
I talked about Osama bin Ladin,terrorists, ISIS, and people in other
hate groups. How we all had different world views and that just because I
viewed him as a horrible human being (just like Hitler) it didn't mean
that everyone saw him like that. Surely, someone must have loved and
admired him, and maybe even saw him as a hero. I talked about criminals
in general and how I have no sympathy for them. They deserve punishment,
but I also admitted that God is the Judge, not me.
I talked about "lizard-face" (Mohamed Atta) and how to me, he
represented all that was evil on this world. I talked about "If you see
something, say something" and how ridiculous it was. I joked about how I
doubted he would have tweeted his plans, or added it as a status on
Facebook or MySpace. I speculated that he probably only discussed it
with people who would approve. Otherwise, wouldn't his plans have been
thwarted? Never learning how to land a plane is a red flag.
I talked about romantic/sexual Love, desire, BDSM and Polyamory.
About what my love style is, and how it came to be. Things I know God
knows about me, but I was told to talk about it.
I asked about why submissive men worry so much about what they're
wearing to a dungeon when it won't even be worn that long before someone
takes it off. I never got any answers to my questions, but I got
answers about what makes me me, and I saw all the love I really do have,
and how easy forgiveness is when you know that everyone will get to go
through it. It's easy to forgive when you know they asked for
forgiveness with a pure heart, and knowing that if their heart wasn't
pure, it was up to God. What mattered at that moment was the purity of
my heart.
Sunshine came out a few times and complained that she was sick. I
went through so many feelings, but late last night when I finally felt
somewhat normal, I realized that having enough love in my heart for
everyone, and forgiving them was important. Even more important, I need
to forgive myself. Think globally. That was the message I got from my
inquisition.
On a more practical note, I learned that I need to only eat predictable things.
Yes. Things have been rough lately. I've shed way too many tears, and my emotional pain has sometimes been unbearable. I've been here before, and I've suffered these all-too-familiar feelings before, I know what it is like to feel alone in a crowd, to feel unloved in a room full of lovers. To feel hopeless, helpless, unloved, unwanted undesired. To feel like a failure.
Still, I also know the Joy of Loving someone, truly Loving someone, and knowing that they Love me back. That undeniable feeling of Hope and Joy for someone who truly 'gets' me. Feeling invincible. The butterflies when I'm being held, touched and kissed. The sharp intake of my breath when I'm being kissed or held, and I'm just floating on air. The pleasant giddiness of it all.
Just because I know that wonderful feeling, it doesn't prevent the earlier-stated negative emotions from coming on, and, granted, I have earned my stripes in the suffering department, so it's not really an overreaction on my part. I would almost dare to challenge anyone who feels I'm weak to walk a mile in my figurative shoes and get through it without feeling despair at times.
But this "All Over Again" I'm referring to is is the Love. No, there's not a recent Love or attraction over the past few days. Nothing like that. It's that I was reminded again how well Fetlife archives messages from our past by a friend, so I took a trip down 'Memory Lane' back to 3 years ago when I was in a fragile state over the unexpected death of my Mother, and things felt hopeless for me. I read messages that started off so innocently, and how they turned flirty, and then developed into a mutual wanting, and then Love, and how it happened over the course of a few months. I started reading them analytically, but in the hours of reading, I found myself falling in Love all over again with him.
I've never stopped Loving him, but the weight and burden of going through this shitstorm called life, I forgot just how much I'm Loved by him. I forgot how shy we were, and how afraid we were of opening up to each other. I forgot what a delight I was to him, and how much tenderness was expressed between us. I needed to remember that it's still here. That our commitment to each other still stands. How much he loves not only me, but Stitch as well. The sacrifices we all made so we could be a Family.
Yes, I always say how important it was and is, but I forgot all those wonderful feelings that came with it. How he described me in his early journal writings. His eagerness to please me, and my uncertainty of whether I could actually take a chance with someone new, someone who had what I thought of as character flaws, most notably smoking cigarettes and an aversion to rejection that was so strong, I wound up in an M/s relationship against my better judgement with him.
I'm alone right now. Stitch is asleep in his room, and Shilo is at work, but reading those notes, messages, and journal entries have me feeling it all over again. Falling in Love over and over again with someone is perhaps the best feeling of all. Remembering how very precious I am to someone else. Retracing those first few steps into an unknown and untested territory. Giving up, giving in. Feeling all those feelings just like the first time, but knowing the rest of the story. The one that says "and they lived, and they laughed, and they hoped and they dreamed. They had struggles and storms, and held onto each other when things were tough, and even though there were times that they got frustrated and felt like giving up, they didn't. They just kept Loving each other whether they were crying or at odds with each other, because that's what people who Love each other do. They don't give up."
I think that's the best part. Whatever discouragement I've felt is now tempered with falling in Love once more with Shilo.
Addendum: Stitch and myself have been together for 12+ years, and while it may seen to some that Stitch is on my back burner, it's not that at all. We seem to weather storms together without the uncertainty that has happened more recently with Shilo. This isn't to say we don't have our 'moments,' it's that we are so established that we don't worry. Stitch is a talkative extrovert. I know that one day, it will be the same with Shilo even though he is a quiet introvert. It's the difference between the tested and not-so-much tested, the new and the not-so-new.
For the past few months, my FIL has been sending out email "blasts" to everyone in his address book about my MIL. I understand the need to do so, and it never bothered me. In fact, the only thing that bothered me was the people who clicked on "Respond to all" vs. "Respond." Mostly because I really don't want to read what others had to say.
So, as anyone reading this knows, my FIL called Shilo on Sunday morning to tell him my MIL had died. Monday morning, we received an email blast about a 'Celebration of life' on Friday. I mentioned this to Shilo, and he stated that he thought there was going to be a funeral on Oklahoma, so I had no reason to be concerned. (Okay dear, whatever you say...) So, late Monday afternoon, as Shilo was preparing for work, my FIL called him and asked if he received the email. (Why, yes I did... why?) It turns out that this is it, there will be no funeral on Oklahoma. Shilo stated of course he would be there, but he wanted (needed) me with him. I will stop here and say that if my FIL had died, my MIL would have (naturally) insisted that I come with Shilo, and wouldn't have had a second thought about paying for me. I do understand my FIL's distress, however, I was shocked when he told Shilo that he couldn't afford for me to come, in spite of Shilo stating how I felt she was a second mother to me because I was still mourning my mother when we met. I was very hurt by his refusal, but I did my best to understand. Then there was the scramble for us to get enough money for me to go, ending with the bank's refusal to raise my credit so I could buy a roundtrip ticket. It was just too much for me to handle. I was a sobbing mess. I just couldn't handle the thought of Shilo doing this on his own, and we all need someone when a parent dies, and I'm his someone.
I went in the bedroom crying, and Shilo woke up to the sound of me sobbing, as I told him I did everything I could, but it wasn't good enough. Somehow, he has enough peace of mind to tell me that he'd figure out a way. After looking at my available credit, and Stitch's available credit, Shilo suggested that I buy a one way ticket there using my credit card, and a one way ticket back using Stitch's credit card. It worked! I almost cried again. Yes, my emotions are a bit unstable right now. I'm embarrassed to say that I told my therapist on the phone Monday that I was "okay." But, really, I was at that time. It wasn't until all the other stuff happened that I fell apart. Anyway, Shilo called his dad and told him I was coming too. I'm honestly not sure if I'm welcome, but I'm going because my husband needs me, and that's all that matters.
With this resolved, today was Shilo's appointment with the GI Specialist ($60 OUCH!) He will FINALLY get the the necessary tests done, so I'm happy. I really do feel like a heavy weight was lifted off my shoulders. Also, on the way to the appointment, Shilo got a text from his boss that made me cry again. His boss arranged for a limo to not only take us to the airport in the morning, but also for a pickup on Saturday. I was really touched by that gesture. God knows how many more times I'll be crying over the next few days, but I'm crying again just by writing about it. So, pickup is 4AM, and I'm not sure if I'll stay up all night or get a few hour's sleep.
I will say that Shilo is still (understandably) stressed out over the whole situation, and he's grouchy, but who can blame him? I'm just taking things minute by minute now. I still have errands to run, so signing off now.
I've become my mother! Please stay with me and my thoughts. I haven't really become my mother, what I have
become is a little bit more observant when it comes to other people.
I notice things I never paid attention to before. Things I might have
ignored, or (heaven forbid!) actually done myself! I try hard to be
tolerant. I really do, but some things are intolerable, much like those
men who wear sandals and black socks, you try to look away, to ignore it, but you just can't! The error, the atrocity of it, is just overwhelming.
So, what has my panties in a bunch? I will share: High Heels.
Honestly, I have nothing against high heels. They can be sexy on nearly
anyone, and, when chosen properly, they can be worn all day, and all
night without a problem. BUT There is
a problem, and it isn't just young women. I see older women (such as
myself, or even older) doing it too, and it's time someone knocked some
sense into these women! It's funny that men in high heels aren't guilty
of this, but I suspect that they know better than most women, and this irritates me most of all.
Women, you know you look sexy in those heels, and that people go wild over your sexy legs, so PLEASE do yourself a favor. Buy those sexy heels, put them on in the privacy of your own home, and (are you ready for it?) Practice (yes, practice!) walking in them! Look at yourself in the mirror! If you look like a newborn foal, then DON'T WEAR THEM IN PUBLIC!!! Just don't! You practice walking in them until you glide
across the floor! Then, and only then, wear them in public, wear them
to the club, the grocery store, the 99 cents store, or even Wal-Mart.
Please save me from getting arrested for assault! One day, I just
might get crazy enough to stop one of these girls (or women) and tell
them myself, and it might get ugly, so please, tell your daughters, tell
your wives, your girlfriends, your subs, slaves and Mistresses, tell
them all to practice wearing those sexy heels so I don't have to!
I’ve waited till now to write this because
I was reluctant to write it any sooner. Losing my mother and coping with her
sudden unexpected death was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Yes, there were
things that I mourned over that I has more of a reaction to (Mom would
understand) since her death, but she is who and what I miss most in my life. I
have almost constant reminders of her, and now that I have my own place, my own
home, I find little reminders of her in the strangest spots. Sometimes, I
manage to smile or even laugh. Other times, I fall apart and cry loudly, but,
mostly, my reactions are somewhere in between.
The Christmas tree: It was in a box on
storage, and we emptied the storage earlier this month. It’s been in a box in
the garage since then. Shilo finally broached the subject last week. I told him
he could put it up. He did it on the one year anniversary of her death while I was
out for the day. Seeing the lights through the living room window caused me to
smile, but I haven’t put on the decorations or turned on the lights. I can’t.
It’s just too hard right now. The nativity scene is still boxed up somewhere.
Mom Loved
it, and was a perfectionist in setting it up ‘just so.’ How can I possibly do
it justice? How can I do any of this and give her honor? The sad truth is that
I’m still feeling lost about it all. I need to figure it all out on my own, and
I don’t have a map. I don’t even have a navigator. It’s just me, lost in a sea
of darkness. Okay, maybe it’s not really that horrible, but it does feel like
that at times, and while I try to fill these days just before Christmas, I
avoid everything to do with it.
Avoiding everything: Christmas Carols
at the stores… I run in and get out as quickly as possible when going to the
mall. I went this past Friday and bought gifts for Stitch and Shilo. Total
time: 25 minutes, most of which was spent in line to pay. I went again Saturday
evening with Stitch to look for a dress but came home with nothing. I spent 45
minutes total in the stores that time. Running errands in other stores Saturday
evening was an adventure. I was so preoccupied in my search that I didn’t
notice the music if there was any. I’ve avoided Christmas specials on TV, but I
did record “Rudolph” because it is my
favorite program. I’ve not watched it yet. Not sure if I can get through it
without crying. Lastly, the radio… I quickly change the station when I hear the
beginning of any Christmas song. In fact, over the past month, I’ve only heard
three songs, none of which caused me to cry.
I feel almost Grinch-like in my actions
to the outside world, but, unlike the Grinch, I already know that Christmas is
here, it’s coming fast, and I can’t stop it. It’s in the heart, and while it
breaks mine to be without my mother, I know that there are children
experiencing the wonder and joy of it for the very first time. Not one year
olds, I mean slightly older, when they finally have a grasp of it. I try to be
happy for them. Sunshine will hopefully always have that, but she’s not even
interested in seeing Santa Claus this time. Yes, she’s sad too. She even
hijacked my body for most of the weekend, but was kind enough to leave a few
memories. I guess she was worried about me. Either way, I’m either sad or numb.
NOT a good thing. I know it will eventually be easier, but I’m not there yet.
The victims: Yes, there are victims.
Sunshine, who mourns mom’s death so greatly, more than I ever could. Stitch,
because he loved her so much, and she was good to him. I’m not exactly sure how
he feels, because I’m in my own bubble when it comes to this, but I’ll say that
there have been more than a few times when we cried together. Finally, there is
Shilo. Sweet Shilo came into this after the fact. He was told about all this in
the beginning, but I feel like sometimes the entire situation is overwhelming.
He’s comforted us (both Sunshine and me) in the car, the van, the grocery
store, church, the mall, you name it, and he’s done so with such graciousness,
kindness and Love, that I feel so very grateful to have him in my life. I also
understand that mom had to die for me to have him in my life, and that I wouldn’t
have the good things that I have in my life right now if mom hadn’t died (cause
and effect) so I face that reality too.
Soo… Two days till Christmas and I’m
still fighting myself, avoiding the places that mom and I would go to just so I
won’t fall apart and cry. The psychologist in me tells me to go there because
it would be cathartic, and the rest of me fights it,not wanting to re-open those wounds, I’m not
sure who will win, but I know that I’d better decide quickly, because time is running
out and I actually need to get those things.
For those of you who celebrate, I hope
your Christmas is happy and full of Joy. For the rest of you: Enjoy your hump
day. I think I’ll survive.
It's not been the easiest 11 months of my life. Sometimes, I still feel so very lost, and I am left wondering how I've even managed to get this far. Still, as much as I miss my mother, and I'm reduced to tears sometimes, I can't help but be grateful for the people who have been there for me, and the new friends who have enriched my life so much, including (and especially) Shilo.
Each day. each hour, brings me closer to the one year mark. My first Thanksgiving without mom is a week away, and Christmas? It'll be my second. I still occasionally fall apart in the produce department, and now that the Winter Holidays are nearly here, I see constant reminders of my mom. The chocolate covered liqueur cherries, the panettone, the brussels sprouts on the stalk, hams and turkeys, the fresh yams and marshmallows and eggnog. As much as mom bitched about the holidays, she enjoyed the grocery shopping, the selecting and buying the "just right" items. We'd go shopping about 3 or 4 days before Thanksgiving, and battle everyone else to find just the right turkey. As it's gotten closer, I've debated how to handle it. The shopping, I mean.There's never been a doubt in my mind that I'd prepare a Thanksgiving dinner, after all, I've done it for years, and I have so much to be grateful for. My only "problem" has been in wrapping my head around the shopping, because of memories of doing it with mom. I know (hope) that one day, I'll feel nostalgic, but, for now, I only feel intense emotional pain.
Without even realizing it, Shilo gave me an "out" by sending me grocery shopping for the household. I was supposed to go Tuesday night, but I fell asleep, so I wound up waking very early Wednesday morning (5:30AM) and I hit the nearly-empty grocery store just after it opened. Since there wasn't even a crowd of people, I was able to shop, and even pick out the turkey without dealing with the normal holiday crowd. Naturally, there's more stuff I need to buy, but I'm sure that Shilo will go with me over the weekend, and we can get the staples and dessert then. He's actually been very helpful as far as my emotional outbursts, because he never met my mother, so he is able to soothe away my pain. In my previous post it might have seemed that I wrote that he lacks compassion, but that is not the case. It's more that he can occasionally (frequently) be insensitive to my needs as a woman, as his wife, and that expressing sadness is hard for him, and he will step on my feelings without even realizing he's done so. If I am sad or crying, he tries really hard to comfort me or Sunshine. He will just have to be mindful of my needs.
