What a difference a year makes.
So with many of you digging so far back into ze blog, I decided to jump in too and damn what a year. As I was scrolling through I realized that at this time last year I was well into the throws of dealing with the process of dying. Man. It’s crazy to think that dad has been gone almost a whole year. At this point last year, I was shuffling him to doctor visit after doctor visit, arguing with my douchy brother, and trying to find the words to say to dad. At this point last year he was a staggering 90 pounds and would not admit he was dying. He kept telling me, I’m fine….as long as I have something to do; I’m not going anywhere. I would go to yoga to destress, cry in the shower, reach for words, reach for wisdom, reach for a resolve. There was no resolve…only an acceptance for what I could not change. Acceptance that a chapter of my life had closed and the beginning of something new. With this I learned to see beauty. Beauty in his life, beauty in the gifts that he had given me, beauty in my own personal growth, and the beauty that can be found in moments of loss.
Here I am. One year later. I’m making public art. I now have the responsibilities of my father; a mortgage, two cats, two dogs, and two children. I’m constantly working towards creating beauty in the home that my father was raised in, also the house that I was raised in and now where my children are growing. I’m taking a break from school and replacing it with forging a path of facilitating public art for my community. Working with my city to improve the city. My mural is set for installation tomorrow morning and I’ve been informed that the local newspaper will be there to document it and all I can think is, “dad would be proud.” If he were still around he would proudly call me and let me know that he saved the paper for me. He was always sentimental like that.
Truthful Tuesday - Wednesday edition
My life is a bit crazy right now. But even with all that’s going on in this wacky transition phase, it’s a million times better for me than my marriage was. Life is insane for me at the moment, but I know (and already feel) that I’m coming through all of this a much stronger, wiser person than when I started. :D
some days, the disorder wins
i have thoughts that i know are just the disorder doing its thing. controlling them is difficult, but if i keep pointing out the disorder thoughts, maybe i can still win this. today is a disorder winning day, but i’ve been trying to counter it. hopefully i can go to bed without feeling it’s grip on my existence.
Well its officially over. And never in my life have I felt so used. I stuck by you and kept on hoping for six months, only to find out you are a lying asshole hypocrite who used me for you own agenda. I was there for you, I watched you with her every second. Fighting for her while she turned you down every fucking time. She will never care about you like I do.
Part of me is glad its over, because I can finally move on and get over you, and that at least I got out now before I got really screwed over. Its inevitable with you, really. I’d say there is a part of me that still wants you, but after having a good long cry and talk with the best best friend ever, I don’t think there is that other hopeless part.
The head over heels, do anything for you girl is gone. Now a new and improved, strong girl stands before you. And you know what? I wish nothing but the best for you. I guess its just a shame you just let the best thing you ever had go, but boy you’re never getting it back.
Stronger I am, and stronger I will get.