Am I Ahead or Behind?

First of all I would like to apologize to my two faithful readers for my recent absence.  I've been busy sulking about what I want to be when I grow up.

Things have been difficult.  I want to say, "since dad died," but that would be silly because of course they were difficult for a long time before that.  Somehow in my head, I thought that our bad luck would end when dad died.  That things would somehow get easier.  I suppose in the long run they will.  In the short run I think the best way to describe my situation is that I've been damned.  Not damned in the sense that I think that G-d hates me or anything, but damned in the way of being stopped.

In the last months every institution I have dealt with has seemed to foil my progress.  I don't suppose there was ever any mal-intent, I think most of it was people being inept.  The institutions run the gamut from Hospice to the funeral home to investment banks to regular banks.  Throw in other daily damnings like having the house robbed and having a designated driver lose the only set of keys to the car and I feel like I have been slogging up to my waist in mud.

Of course, I'm also still dealing with losing my father.  When my dad died, it was like I lost my mom again too.  They were such a pair, such a team, that as long as one of them was here, the team was represented.  They were the only people who truly knew what my life has been about.  It's a huge hit to be without either of them.  It's a huge hit to be missing both of them.

On the other hand, maybe this is about timing.  Maybe I'm not supposed to be able to accomplish things quickly right now because I'm running ahead of schedule.  Maybe the next thing that is supposed to happen isn't ready yet.  I think I'll go with that track of thinking and keep slogging along.

Dancing with Dad

My father has not yet been dead a month.  I have been trying really hard to forget what he looked like at the very end.  His face had become distorted by the cancer behind his jaw, he had become emaciated and there was an open wound behind his ear.  It was nightmare scary.

Since he died, I have had dreams about him, but they have been dreams in which he was still ill and I was still caring for him.

Last night I had a beautiful dream.  My father was there and he was swinging me around like he used to do when I was a little girl.  My skirt was billowing out and he was young and his arms were strong.  We were laughing and when he set me down we were dancing around together and everything was wonderful.  We were so happy and we laughed the whole time.  He told me that everything is all right now and that I will go on to have many more amazing adventures in my life.  This is how I will remember him.  I feel like this dream was a gift from him.

Leave a Note

Before I went out with my sister and a friend for the afternoon yesterday, I asked my son to please leave a note for me if he went out, so I wouldn't worry about where he was.  When we got home there was a note on the table that said:

"Dear Mom,

I went to Mexico.  I'll be back on Tuesday.

Love,
Momo"

At least he left a note.