I woke up this morning so excited! Why? Well, Jennie and I were supposed to be taking the kids to the beach. I got out of bed and could hardly keep myself from waking up Richie. I waited for him to wake up on his own. Then I rushed like a mad person to get him dressed and the diaper bag packed so I would be ready by the time Jennie and I set, 10:00. I was calling Jennie all morning with no answer. I figured she was trying to get her and Alaina ready. She finally picked up at 10 minutes to 10. She sounded like sand paper. You know, the painful and scratchy sound two pieces of sand paper make when you rub them together. Yeah, that is the sound that came through the phone masquerading as Jennie's voice.
Jennie has gotten sick from Amara now too. First Richie got sick, then Alaina, and now Jennie. I refuse to get sick! In order to secure my immunity, I spent all day with Jennie. And we ate ice cream from Cold Stone. It's good for what ails ya! I wish we could have gone to the beach but I would have hated for Jennie to have a horrible time. Alaina is still pretty sick too, and the beach is breezy on the warmest day.
I was hoping my dad would be able to get time off work tomorrow because I haven't really gotten to spend any time with him since I've been here. We were going to make a trip into San Francisco. However, it's looking like he will only get half a day off, at the most. What a way to end my vacation!
I am looking forward to being home. It's comfortable, familiar, and affordable. California is so gosh darn expensive it's hard to comprehend moving back. Texas is a nice place to settle down and raise a family. I don't need the hustle, the bustle or the smog. It is nice having places to shop besides your friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart, but nothing beats a breath of fresh air. And reasonable gas prices. There are so many reasons to stay far from this evil money devouring pit. And so many things that keep bringing me back.
turn down upside
Yesterday was the barbecue with my grandmother and other family members. I had told my grandma on Saturday that we would show up Sunday at about 12:30. After a heart attack at the first church service, attending the second service, and a couple hours for portraits of Richie and my little sister Ryann, we finally made at 4:00 p.m. Everyone was already there. I couldn't even get in the door to greet everyone before I was hit with a crowd of hugs and strange hands reach out to touch Richie. Richie was really good about being passed around.
I can't, honestly, say that it wasn't strange seeing all my family members like that. What they lack in normalcy they make up for generously with dysfunction. Since my papa passed away, we've been stuck. The whole lot of us, stuck. I didn't realize his extraordinary staying power until we all fell apart without him. When he got cancer, we two steps behind but protected him all the same. Before the cancer could kill him, we submerged him in love. He couldn't take a full breath, but he breathed love onto all of us. I think he would cry if he saw the ash we are. I am. I am ash. Every time I hum my favorite song, photograph a moment, share a bit of time with the ones I love, I wonder what stories they'll tell at my funeral. Will anyone remember my favorite song? Will I die before my dad? Will I bury my son? Will he bury me? With a disturbing detachment, I associate everything with death. How long can tragedy attack this family before we all fall victim to perpetual funeral planning?
All these thoughts were running through my mind as I visited with my family. Since we can't function without him, we are always telling stories about him or talking about what he would do if he were still here. We all kept so much of him alive, and maybe that makes it harder to move on. It's like he is still with us everyday. I look at my grandma, now great grandmother to my son, and wonder how burying two lovers could leave her with a life worth waking up to. I see the mark of misfortune on each of us, and I wonder why do any of us get out of bed in the morning.
Then I look at my son and I remember what a blessing life is.
I can't, honestly, say that it wasn't strange seeing all my family members like that. What they lack in normalcy they make up for generously with dysfunction. Since my papa passed away, we've been stuck. The whole lot of us, stuck. I didn't realize his extraordinary staying power until we all fell apart without him. When he got cancer, we two steps behind but protected him all the same. Before the cancer could kill him, we submerged him in love. He couldn't take a full breath, but he breathed love onto all of us. I think he would cry if he saw the ash we are. I am. I am ash. Every time I hum my favorite song, photograph a moment, share a bit of time with the ones I love, I wonder what stories they'll tell at my funeral. Will anyone remember my favorite song? Will I die before my dad? Will I bury my son? Will he bury me? With a disturbing detachment, I associate everything with death. How long can tragedy attack this family before we all fall victim to perpetual funeral planning?
All these thoughts were running through my mind as I visited with my family. Since we can't function without him, we are always telling stories about him or talking about what he would do if he were still here. We all kept so much of him alive, and maybe that makes it harder to move on. It's like he is still with us everyday. I look at my grandma, now great grandmother to my son, and wonder how burying two lovers could leave her with a life worth waking up to. I see the mark of misfortune on each of us, and I wonder why do any of us get out of bed in the morning.
Then I look at my son and I remember what a blessing life is.
moving on
I just got home from Jennie's new house. It is so nice. They've got four bedrooms (all on the second floor) and three bathrooms. They've also got a massive garage, a great kitchen, living room, and patio! It's perfect for their growing family. Jennie's little sister Stephanie is moving in with them soon. Should be interesting. I wish them all the best in their newest endeavor.
I had stopped by Jennie's after a visit with my Aunt Jen, Aunt Julie, Uncle Chuck, and cousins Maddie and Landon. We went to this horrid little Chinese buffet. I brought food for Richie, which he threw up quite hastily and continuously. I ate nothing. Not until I ordered pizza at Jennie's house (which I ate a disgusting amount of, for shame!). It was nice, however, to see those members of my family. My cousin Landon is four months older than Richie and he is growing into such a cute little man! Maddie is four years old now and loves playing dolls with Ryann. Ryann is finally getting to the age where she likes playing with children in Richie's age group and Maddie's.
Richie is at such an odd age right now. Sometimes he wants to play, sometimes he wants to be left alone. Tonight he did everything he could while at Jennie's house to destroy himself, as well as the house. He was going face forward off the couch like he thinks he's bigger than he is. He dumped a full mug of Sprite down the front of himself and onto the table and floor, trying to get a drink. He threw up on Jennie's floor. He nearly broke his nose by smashing his face on the floor after wrapping himself in a blanket and doing a royal stroll around the house. Up until that point I had been happy for Jennie's hard wood floors to protect the non-existent carpet from my messy child. Then he slammed his face on it. The way he hit putt quite the red crease in his noise. I coddled him, of course, and he got over it. I didn't, but I will.
Tomorrow we are having a barbecue at my grandma's house and I can't wait to see what injuries he can inflict on himself in a new setting with new weapons.
Oh god. Please, no. I take it back.
Did I just curse myself? We'll find out tomorrow.
I had stopped by Jennie's after a visit with my Aunt Jen, Aunt Julie, Uncle Chuck, and cousins Maddie and Landon. We went to this horrid little Chinese buffet. I brought food for Richie, which he threw up quite hastily and continuously. I ate nothing. Not until I ordered pizza at Jennie's house (which I ate a disgusting amount of, for shame!). It was nice, however, to see those members of my family. My cousin Landon is four months older than Richie and he is growing into such a cute little man! Maddie is four years old now and loves playing dolls with Ryann. Ryann is finally getting to the age where she likes playing with children in Richie's age group and Maddie's.
Richie is at such an odd age right now. Sometimes he wants to play, sometimes he wants to be left alone. Tonight he did everything he could while at Jennie's house to destroy himself, as well as the house. He was going face forward off the couch like he thinks he's bigger than he is. He dumped a full mug of Sprite down the front of himself and onto the table and floor, trying to get a drink. He threw up on Jennie's floor. He nearly broke his nose by smashing his face on the floor after wrapping himself in a blanket and doing a royal stroll around the house. Up until that point I had been happy for Jennie's hard wood floors to protect the non-existent carpet from my messy child. Then he slammed his face on it. The way he hit putt quite the red crease in his noise. I coddled him, of course, and he got over it. I didn't, but I will.
Tomorrow we are having a barbecue at my grandma's house and I can't wait to see what injuries he can inflict on himself in a new setting with new weapons.
Oh god. Please, no. I take it back.
Did I just curse myself? We'll find out tomorrow.
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