6 posts tagged “death”

I’m back blogging at the end of the one of the worst months of my entire life. I apologize to a few of you who have sent me private messages. I'm really sorry I haven;t responded. Just haven't been able to. I thank you for your thoughts. I also haven’t been able to blog because I can’t adequately put words to everything I have been feeling, nor have I been able to. I still don’t want to post, but I’m forcing myself to because I think I need to get some of this out of my system or I will crash hard. My apologies now because this is by far a decidedly unhappy blog.

When last I wrote, my mom, who I had been estranged from, appeared on her death bed after 20 years. She then passed away May 3^rd and a lot emotionally and mentally has been opened up since, a lot of which has been closed and “healed” all those years. Not so much it turns out. The last few weeks have pushed me to an emotional, psychological and physical edge the likes of which I thought I wouldn’t turn back from. Still not sure I will. On top of that, I got the promotion I wanted and started my new job. The stress of that and my mom dying has been unbelievable. I cannot tell you how many times I have spontaneously burst out crying in front of people who probably think I’m psycho.

Today is my 35^th birthday, and as I write this at 11:23 pm all I’ve wanted to do all day was crawl in a hole. On May 3^rd my mom died. May 11^th was the 19^th anniversary of my dad’s death and Mother’s Day. May 23^rd would’ve been my mom’s 65^th birthday, and today I turned 35. Yesterday, May 25^th, after contentious weeks with my family over her interment, and after taking out a loan on my 401(k), I scattered my mom’s ashes and had her proverbial funeral. At first we thought we wouldn’t claim her, but in the end I just couldn’t do it. I had to take care of her. Along with the day my dad died and the day of his funeral, yesterday was easily #3 of the top three worst days of my life. I scattered her ashes on the graves of her parents and grandparents (my maternal grandparents and great-grandparents). I thought it was the best thing to do. My ex-boyfriend, Richard, and friend, Crazy Cat Lady, came with. All credit to both of them. CCL hasn’t been around death all that much because her family (luckily) lives long lives. My ex is a kidney dialysis social worker who is constantly around death and has effectively shut himself off when it happens around him. Then you have me, wreck that I was. How I got though it I don’t know. I still don’t know how I’ll recover from everything that has surfaced. I truly feel like the biggest burden to everyone I know. I also feel small at the same time. Being my birthday, I only got three text messages and the ex-boyfriend who probably felt obliged to take me to dinner. No one really remembered or was too busy to care. I wish I could take another day off work on top of the holiday today. I’m not ready to face the world.

Tonight the Biography Channel is running a marathon of the show “I Survived…” about people who survived horrendous circumstances, such as people trying to rape and murder them, being stranded, etc. A few weeks back I blogged about an episode where this girl was kidnapped, raped, shot 3 times, and left for dead, and she said the only reason she made it through was because she was loved, and had she died, she could take that with her. She fought to get back to those people. That episode is on now, and as before, I question who would miss me if I was gone. I would end up being unclaimed. No one would want to bother. If I was kidnapped and in her position, who would pop into my head as being someone who truly loved me that I would want to pull through for? Who would really miss me? I’m not sure. I know I will meet the same fate as my mom. I don’t have anyone who would claim me if something happened. I guess the one positive is I have life insurance to reimburse anyone, right? (A bright side, I guess).

Happy fucking birthday to me.

I’m back blogging at the end of the one of the worst months of my entire life. I apologize to a few of you who have sent me private messages. I'm really sorry I haven;t responded. Just haven't been able to. I thank you for your thoughts. I also haven’t been able to blog because I can’t adequately put words to everything I have been feeling, nor have I been able to. I still don’t want to post, but I’m forcing myself to because I think I need to get some of this out of my system or I will crash hard. My apologies now because this is by far a decidedly unhappy blog.

When last I wrote, my mom, who I had been estranged from, appeared on her death bed after 20 years. She then passed away May 3^rd and a lot emotionally and mentally has been opened up since, a lot of which has been closed and “healed” all those years. Not so much it turns out. The last few weeks have pushed me to an emotional, psychological and physical edge the likes of which I thought I wouldn’t turn back from. Still not sure I will. On top of that, I got the promotion I wanted and started my new job. The stress of that and my mom dying has been unbelievable. I cannot tell you how many times I have spontaneously burst out crying in front of people who probably think I’m psycho.

Today is my 35^th birthday, and as I write this at 11:23 pm all I’ve wanted to do all day was crawl in a hole. On May 3^rd my mom died. May 11^th was the 19^th anniversary of my dad’s death and Mother’s Day. May 23^rd would’ve been my mom’s 65^th birthday, and today I turned 35. Yesterday, May 25^th, after contentious weeks with my family over her interment, and after taking out a loan on my 401(k), I scattered my mom’s ashes and had her proverbial funeral. At first we thought we wouldn’t claim her, but in the end I just couldn’t do it. I had to take care of her. Along with the day my dad died and the day of his funeral, yesterday was easily #3 of the top three worst days of my life. I scattered her ashes on the graves of her parents and grandparents (my maternal grandparents and great-grandparents). I thought it was the best thing to do. My ex-boyfriend, Richard, and friend, Crazy Cat Lady, came with. All credit to both of them. CCL hasn’t been around death all that much because her family (luckily) lives long lives. My ex is a kidney dialysis social worker who is constantly around death and has effectively shut himself off when it happens around him. Then you have me, wreck that I was. How I got though it I don’t know. I still don’t know how I’ll recover from everything that has surfaced. I truly feel like the biggest burden to everyone I know. I also feel small at the same time. Being my birthday, I only got three text messages and the ex-boyfriend who probably felt obliged to take me to dinner. No one really remembered or was too busy to care. I wish I could take another day off work on top of the holiday today. I’m not ready to face the world.

Tonight the Biography Channel is running a marathon of the show “I Survived…” about people who survived horrendous circumstances, such as people trying to rape and murder them, being stranded, etc. A few weeks back I blogged about an episode where this girl was kidnapped, raped, shot 3 times, and left for dead, and she said the only reason she made it through was because she was loved, and had she died, she could take that with her. She fought to get back to those people. That episode is on now, and as before, I question who would miss me if I was gone. I would end up being unclaimed. No one would want to bother. If I was kidnapped and in her position, who would pop into my head as being someone who truly loved me that I would want to pull through for? Who would really miss me? I’m not sure. I know I will meet the same fate as my mom. I don’t have anyone who would claim me if something happened. I guess the one positive is I have life insurance to reimburse anyone, right? (A bright side, I guess).

Happy fucking birthday to me.

I’m back blogging at the end of the one of the worst months of my entire life. I apologize to a few of you who have sent me private messages. I'm really sorry I haven;t responded. Just haven't been able to. I thank you for your thoughts. I also haven’t been able to blog because I can’t adequately put words to everything I have been feeling, nor have I been able to. I still don’t want to post, but I’m forcing myself to because I think I need to get some of this out of my system or I will crash hard. My apologies now because this is by far a decidedly unhappy blog.

When last I wrote, my mom, who I had been estranged from, appeared on her death bed after 20 years. She then passed away May 3^rd and a lot emotionally and mentally has been opened up since, a lot of which has been closed and “healed” all those years. Not so much it turns out. The last few weeks have pushed me to an emotional, psychological and physical edge the likes of which I thought I wouldn’t turn back from. Still not sure I will. On top of that, I got the promotion I wanted and started my new job. The stress of that and my mom dying has been unbelievable. I cannot tell you how many times I have spontaneously burst out crying in front of people who probably think I’m psycho.

Today is my 35^th birthday, and as I write this at 11:23 pm all I’ve wanted to do all day was crawl in a hole. On May 3^rd my mom died. May 11^th was the 19^th anniversary of my dad’s death and Mother’s Day. May 23^rd would’ve been my mom’s 65^th birthday, and today I turned 35. Yesterday, May 25^th, after contentious weeks with my family over her interment, and after taking out a loan on my 401(k), I scattered my mom’s ashes and had her proverbial funeral. At first we thought we wouldn’t claim her, but in the end I just couldn’t do it. I had to take care of her. Along with the day my dad died and the day of his funeral, yesterday was easily #3 of the top three worst days of my life. I scattered her ashes on the graves of her parents and grandparents (my maternal grandparents and great-grandparents). I thought it was the best thing to do. My ex-boyfriend, Richard, and friend, Crazy Cat Lady, came with. All credit to both of them. CCL hasn’t been around death all that much because her family (luckily) lives long lives. My ex is a kidney dialysis social worker who is constantly around death and has effectively shut himself off when it happens around him. Then you have me, wreck that I was. How I got though it I don’t know. I still don’t know how I’ll recover from everything that has surfaced. I truly feel like the biggest burden to everyone I know. I also feel small at the same time. Being my birthday, I only got three text messages and the ex-boyfriend who probably felt obliged to take me to dinner. No one really remembered or was too busy to care. I wish I could take another day off work on top of the holiday today. I’m not ready to face the world.

Tonight the Biography Channel is running a marathon of the show “I Survived…” about people who survived horrendous circumstances, such as people trying to rape and murder them, being stranded, etc. A few weeks back I blogged about an episode where this girl was kidnapped, raped, shot 3 times, and left for dead, and she said the only reason she made it through was because she was loved, and had she died, she could take that with her. She fought to get back to those people. That episode is on now, and as before, I question who would miss me if I was gone. I would end up being unclaimed. No one would want to bother. If I was kidnapped and in her position, who would pop into my head as being someone who truly loved me that I would want to pull through for? Who would really miss me? I’m not sure. I know I will meet the same fate as my mom. I don’t have anyone who would claim me if something happened. I guess the one positive is I have life insurance to reimburse anyone, right? (A bright side, I guess).

Happy fucking birthday to me.

No one called me at all today. My phone didn't ring once. Today was Mother's Day and the 19th anniversary of my father's death.

As you recall, about a week ago my mother died. My family and I made the choice to not claim her remains. Two drastic things changed:

1. I went to see my mother after she died at the hospital morgue. Rule #1: If you can ever avoid going to see a loved one at the morgue I highly recommend it. Even though I didn't want to see her, I had the strong need to. What I saw has kept me up every single night. I close my eyes and I cannot get the vision out of my head. It is something I don't want anyone to ever see. Her condition was beyond poor. But it gave me a personal sense of closure that I needed. I was able to see her and say many things I wanted to say, good and bad. Above all, that she was loved by many people over the course of her life.

2. My family asked me to price out cremation services. After we agreed to forego anything claiming or services whatsoever they changed lanes. No problem. I researched, then they decided not to pay. At this point I am unable to let the county take care of her and put her in a mass grave, so I took out a loan on my 401(k) and will direct-cremate her when I get the check Tuesday. I just couldn't do it. I am doing it for myself, and her. I at least got to wake and funeral my father, and despite all of the bad things, she was a human and my mother. It'll take 3 years to pay off the loan, but I have to do it.

Other than the above, why do I hate May? My mother died May 3. My father died May 11. My mother's birthday is May 23. My birthday is May 26. It is an extremely bittersweet month. Today is Mother's Day, and while I mourn my mother, I also mourn my father who's anniversary was a few days ago. When she was alive and we were estranged, I still "technically" had a mother. Now, she is absolutely, definitely gone. I truly no longer have any parents. It has been a very sobering day.

On a side note, I started my new job one week ago. Extremely stressful. Needless to say, my mind has been in 100,000 different places.

Tonight I watched a show called ”I Survived…” where people who survived traumatic events talk about what brought them through. The episode had a woman who was 24 when some guy watched her, busted her apartment door in, made her go to an ATM, then drove her to a dark, secluded spot where he raped then shot her 3 times to make sure she was dead. He was caught only because he came back to the spot to show off the “dead body”. The girl survived because the bullets missed major arteries, she played dead, and she felt deeply motivated to keep moving to safety by the love she had from her parents, family and baby niece and what her loss would do to them. What resonated while watching was my recurring fear of being murdered or raped while living alone.

I have no parents, siblings, boyfriend, husband, children or anyone who would truly miss me to that type of degree. Sure, I have friends, but when you break it down, I don’t have anyone that guttural to where they would shatter at my passing. I realized, on yet another level, that I am truly alone. I’ve known this for years, and every year or so something happens where the realization runs even deeper, but tonight really hit a whole new level. The thoughts that ran through my head were of this strong girl having these amazing people who loved her to motivate her to live and drive her to move while she was shot and naked to civilization so she could be rescued. It drove in my head that I have no one and that I would probably lay there allowing myself to drift off and die, remembering my life, petrified and despondent that I was dying that way, hoping I would see my dad if there was some sort of after life. I have no one’s love to motivate me. Who would truly care? Who would cry while cleaning out my apartment and looking at my photo albums, yearbooks, travel souvenirs, clothes, food, etc. Who would I try to live for if in that situation?

My entire life I've been surrounded my death. Way too much of it. Some people never lose anyone until they're in their 40s or 50s. My parents told me I went to my first wake and funeral at age 3 for my great grandmother. I lost the only grandfather I knew at age 8 at Christmas. My father died two weeks shy of my 16th birthday. My godfather unexpectedly left us last April. Not to mention the numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, and parents of my friends. The ones that really freaked me out, outside of my father obviously, was my best friend's mother who was like a second mother to me from my sophomore yr of high school on. Then a few years ago one of my high school friends lost his battle with drugs. Growing up a Polish/German Catholic in Chicago, wakes and funerals were always two-day ordeals involving pictures being taken (I know - creepy), huge processions to the chruch and cemetery, and as required, the monstrous feast at the world's largest banquet hall surrounded by my Polish uncles getting drunk off the various bottles of vodka on the lazy susans in the center of the tables.

I wax reminiscient about death not to bring the mood down, but I am definitely in a weird mood right now. Last night one of the local Chicago news anchors for the CBS affiliate was killed in a snowmobile accident in Northern Wisconsin. He was only 45 and had a wife and three kids. Normally it wouldn't bother me, but it turns out that I actually knew him. Going back about 10 years ago I was close friends for a few years with his sister-in-law and had hung out with him on several occassions. A super nice guy. It's such a shame when that happens, more so when the person is young and it's tragic and unexpected.

Looking back on the funk I've been in the past few days, I hate to say that hearing about his death has brought me out of it. Only because it makes me realize how lucky I am in spite of the people and things I have lost in my lifetime. I know I'll lose more, but being pragmatic about how short life is makes you want to get out of any funk and live it.