January 21, 2008
and I shouldn’t whine about it being unfair. I promise I’m trying to keep a positive outlook despite all the turmoil of late.
I’m just worried.
I worry about letting my brother come home to live. I can’t trust him to clean up after himself and not run up all the bills. I can’t trust him to treat my parents right. I can’t trust him to behave in the house. I can’t trust him. Period.
I worry about not letting him come home. He says he has nowhere else to go.
I worry about my mom. She’s so confused half the time, and we never know which half it’s going to be. She can’t eat well, sleep well, and insists on trying to work. I can’t “ground” her, she’s my mom! BTW, E.C., getting her not to drive has really been a combination of a guilt trip (I worry so much about your driving, we can’t afford to lose you, we can’t afford for you to have an accident serious or not, etc.) and making sure that everyone around her knows that she’s not allowed to drive so we have to plan ahead to make sure that everyone’s got rides
December 21, 2007
The recurring theme of MY turn to be “roasted” at the Christmas lunch was: work ethic. How hard I work. How MUCH I work. How WELL I work. How much I should be remembering to have ME time amidst all that work, because if I dropped dead tomorrow, the office would just have to replace me and move.
December 7, 2007
I shall sally forth to contend with the all day private family memorial services, hoping that I don’t infect anyone else with my cold . I get the impression from BoyDucky’s harassed sounding phone calls that this moment of peace I have with you, blogger family, is the last bit of quiet I’ll be having for the rest of the day.
Wish me luck!
November 30, 2007
Not just one.
I left work on Wednesday at noon to go support BoyDucky and his family. Their father was failing, and he was at the hospital alone.
They made the decision to let him go that night. His condition was drastically worse, and he was in pain.
We stayed by his side all night, on pain medications, until he passed just before midnight. I stayed with the family for the next eight hours in a Buddhist prayer chant to send him on his way. Mom, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends held vigil for him until 8 am.
This is all very bare bones because I’m still in shock right now. I’m in shock because after 24 hours of overwhelming grief, having to see the family’s faces contorted with pain, we hadn’t experienced the worst.
Less than twelve hours after BoyDucky’s father passed, his cousin, our friend, A, left the hospital to let their dog out and run errands for BoyDucky’s mother.
We found out at 2pm that he was involved in a fatal car accident. He’d fallen asleep at the wheel and drifted into a parked semi on the side of the road.
BoyDucky and I had to find, wake up, and break the news to his mother and that was the single most horrific thing I’ve ever done in my life.
A would be characterized by many people as a good friend, a good son, a good brother, and a good person. He could have been defined as responsible, caring, compassionate, selfless, patient beyond belief and genuine. He would be defined that way, by other people. But for me, he defined those values. He was the example against which I held up others who aspired to be responsible, caring, compassionate, strong, and genuinely good to others. On a good day, I could have been an “A”. I wouldn’t count on it, ’cause he was so damn good at being good, but if I could be like him, that was compliment enough.
A was a rock. A solid, young man, the eldest son, and the best son his mother could ask for. He was the best cousin BoyDucky could have, and a wonderful friend. I’m grateful for the time I had with him, and I miss him.
There are two gaping holes in my heart right now, and I may not be blogging for a while.
November 27, 2007
This is why I can’t have nice things, Part II.
Last week, possessed by who-knows-what, I took off my sterling silver Elsa Peretti starfish necklace because I was wearing gold earrings, and stowed it NOT in my purse or a safe, zipped, safeguarded pocket of any sort. Since the past 4-5 days have been such a harried blur, I just cannot remember where I put it. Days later, walking around with the phantom feeling of the necklace resting in the hollow of my throat, I finally realized that I’d never put it back on. It felt like it was with me this whole time, but it hasn’t been! In fact, I’d stripped off all my other jewelry days ago, returning to my normal, jewelry-free state, and I have NO IDEA what happened!
I am, to be blunt, freaking out. The necklace was a birthday gift from BoyDucky years ago. How could I be so careless? It was a cherished gift that he picked for me, thinking of how I would never ever be so extravagant as to ask for or pick out anything from Tiffany & Co., and knowing that if I were to want something, it would be something other than the ubiquitous, generic heart design that every boy picks for his girl. This despite my never wearing any jewelry for him to base his selection on. He’s good, that one. Starfish was special. And now, after days of never touching hand to heart, I can’t stop placing my hand over where Starfish would form a comforting imprint in my palm, wishing and hoping that it’d materialize.
November 6, 2007
Every time I use an ATM, I always have this almost irrational need to position myself in such a way that people behind me can’t see the screen. With a screen that shows all of the accounts to pick from, with the account numbers and account balances for each, and because all the savings accounts have between three and four digit balances, it’s always seemed wise to try and keep the screen covered up. Of course I look like a twitchy spaz when there’s more than one person behind me, and even worse when the people waiting are spread out to the right and left of me. I’m sure I make them nervous with the neurotic glances over my shoulder and such.
BoyDucky went with me to the ATM yesterday and noticed something, “You know, I’m standing right next to you and can’t see anything.” Intrigued, I looked at the screen from his angle: nothing. I looked at it from the opposite angle: still nothing! Wow, I’ve been a total dork at the ATM this whole time for nothing!
Then, he experimentally leaned over: “I can’t see anything from this angle … this angle … not unless I’m looking straight on … ” at which point he caught sight of my Expenses account balance: “and just from that one second, I can see you have FIVE TIMES more money in your checking account than I do!” *chagrin*
LOL, silly BoyDucky, that’s not my checking account, that’s my Expenses account for the year. I have $13 in checking; I’d never keep that much money in my checking account, it earns so little interest!
He takes this as proof that I’m a better money manager than he. If I am, it’s because I know better than to keep a lot of money in a low-interest bearing account, not because I have much 🙂
November 1, 2007
While mulling over the car repair options on the way to train station, I was struck by a realization: I’m 25. I can now rent a car without paying a supplemental fee!
I think that, and a looming sense of deadlines, are it. That’s all we get. Happy quarter century!