Something Wanted

Peeps. I'm trying, really trying.

Spare me the kapkar there is no try.  Do or do not.

I'm truly trying.

I woke up super early this morning. 

3:33 with a cape on my back. 

I was going to change things up to create changes in my life. I took my darkling puppy boy out to do his business.

I made his breakfast for him.

It's August in Texas, 104 degrees is usual. Today it was cooler. 98.

PJ (my puppy) has less appetite. The heat is affecting him. He still needs exercise or he's like a squirrel with 4 shots of espresso.

So what. 

So am I. 

Having tons of energy is a part of me along with having very sharp recall in my memory.

1. Get up early, line up work for the following night.

2. Take care of puppy boy.

3. Get to the gym for a minimum of 30 minutes.

4. Take puppy boy to the park to let him RUN.

5. Take him home, put snack & bowl of ice in his crate, lock him in! My darkling is an 8 keyed padlock dog. An AKC escape artist.

6. My car was in need of some TLC - Total Laudatory Cleaning.

PJ is terrified of the automatic car wash. I left him at home.

After my workout, I picked up an Egg McMuffin, some OJ to have in the car, listen to some music, relax with some brekkie as my car gets washed.

I was doing OK.

Hadn't cried, over Steve, for 2 days, have found 24 blue feathers.

The first song on the radio:

What Might Have Been by Little Texas

Really DJ? Really!

Change the station.

The Sweetest Thing by Juice Newton

UGH!

Fighting the tears.

Change the station

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

OMFG! STOP! 

Change the station

You Don't Bring Me Flowers by Barbara Streisand

I was running from the grief at full speed.

Screw it, man, I turned the radio off

I let myself cry. Let tears course down my face. Let it have me.

I want to be happy; I want to stop crying. I want to only cry for 3 months instead of the four months, the last time I had to get over him. It's almost at the end of 3 months & 24 Blue Jay feathers which feels like he's sending signs to comfort me. Though I have always found feathers, never have I ever found such beautiful bright blue ones. I doubt I ever really got over Steve. He and I kept finding each other. I'd go find him. He'd go find me. We'd find each other again.

It may sound silly, maybe it is, not to me. It's freaking painful.

The guy is worth every bit of pain I feel from the ache for him. However, it feels like the pain wants me more than I want the pain. The beautiful blue feathers are a bit of comfort.

Also, the rediscovery of the emails Steve sent me over a course of several years from 2007 - 2017. The photos he sent, the ideas he expressed. He loved Pepsi, also loved Hot Pockets. He even called me a "Hot Pocket" a few times. If you get the inference, you get it.

Having never tried the food or the other, I bought 2 boxes of Hot Pockets (the food) & a case of Pepsi. Not exactly health food, it's comforting me a bit.

Yeah, the pain wants me. 

I'm keeping those photos & emails. Along with the book he "loaned" to me with his love letters tucked inside. All I have left of him.

I'm all alone in the pain pit.

Everyone has their lives, their own personal pain.

Although his son wasn't planned, he loved him so much, sent me several photos. Such an adorable boy.

Steve wondered how I felt as his son is 1/2 African American.

OMFabulous Gracious!

I'm 1/2 Native American!

My babies are 1/2 Asian.

So?

So, so, I can sew all the way to Kokomo.

A child is beautiful, period, end of discussion. His child is beautiful.

Speaking of a child or children.

As I did when I had babies, I started neglecting myself to take care of PJ. He was just 3 months of age when I brought him home.

I froze my gym membership for a few months. Began revolving my days & nights around PJ. His waking times, sleeping times, meal times, exercise, training, play, long walks. 

Now that the city made such a great dog park, I take him in the mornings when the weather is cooler. 

He runs for a solid hour.

I walk from the front gate to the back fence then back to the front gate a minimum of 4 times, sometimes 8 times. As PJ runs, finds sticks, runs some more!

4 times = 30 minutes

8 times = 55 minutes

Walking the fauxvid pork off of my body.

The dog park has running fresh water, waste bags provided.

Groovy!

Now that PJ is older, I have a well-trained 8-month-old puppy who is still a joy to be around even when he body slams me, with all 70 lbs!

I taught him to "shake" also "play dead". Pointing my finger at him I say "bang". He falls over on his back, his legs in the air. 

Party tricks are so fun.

He still does occasional puppy nipping, my skin is healing nicely.  CeraVe VitC serum & Omnilux LED treatments, taking L Lyseine.

My puppy boy is worth it to me.

I love him.

He's a great comfort to me during this grieving time. I lay on the floor next to him, on a small pillow, the tears flowing. He rubs his nose on my tears, puts his paw on my shoulder.

He's so young to be so devoted, so understanding of my grief & pain.

My birthday came & went. 3 phone calls, one text. 2 late gifts 10 days after. People told me what joy children bring when they become adults. Witnessing their milestones is so rewarding. Invest in your children now, they will love you later. 

Sure.

Out of 4 children that I sacrificed for, poured my time & love into, only one cares about me. Only one has included me in her milestones in her adult life. Acknowledging that it takes work, planning & perseverance to raise children with love & caring. 

I gave that.

It also takes work, planning, love & time for an adult child to include their parent(s) in their lives.

Only got a commensurate return from my youngest one. 

I saved the best for last.

Having PJ definitely helped so much to smooth over the Birthday blues.

The grieving wants me, so I am letting it have me however long. Maybe fighting it is only prolonging it. idk.