anniversary

yesterday was my wedding anniversary. and I attended a funeral. it struck me how alone I am at occasions like this. funerals, weddings, theatre events...the empty chair next to me was so apparent. I was sad..kept playing with my rings...it gave me comfort. while driving last night I asked you for a sign. the next song on the radio was an old one...signs, signs everywhere are signs....I laughed out loud at your choice.
Jake talks of you often now. He wants his daddy. I want him to have you.

life continues to be weird

so solitary.
wish I came home to an adult.
share the musings of my day.
I come home to a quiet house with sleeping children.
I lay in my bed and think lonely thoughts.
I wish for different things
I miss Emily.
grateful for the small things, like the way Jake thinks. how AJ makes me laugh. how Emi calls me to discuss coffee.

an old favorite. ah St Louis

Sarah McLachlan - Angel [Official Music Video]

empty chairs

"and I wonder if you know, that I never understood...that although you said you'd go, until you did, I never thought you would."
three and a half years since I have heard you laugh. since I've seen your face admiring your son. since you've held my hand.
so much has happened, so much has change. I hold onto the memories of the love and life we shared. of the good and the bad, the crazy...the drives up A1A, chinese food and barefoot, horses and baseball, grilling and eating, Uncle Thai's and mustangs. Flying to Nice to meet you..who does that? will I ever see Italy again? not with you. the coffee tour of London. Abbey Road. ridiculous.
honeymoons and hurricanes.
life on the ride.
life in love. with life. with kids. with our home. with our madness.
makes me smile tonight.
makes me cry.
makes me wonder why it had to be so brief.
once in love.
I remember.
empty chairs.
"never knew how much I needed you. never thought you'd leave. until you went."

http://youtu.be/jtrIc8vq7wU

there's no making it up

how to make it up to my children in so many ways. I never can, I have to stop thinking that way. When the rock of the family falls apart it makes everyone angry. That is the overwhelming feeling I get, everyone is angry with me. and I am at a loss. Now that I am strong again I can't fathom how these periods happen, but they do. I feel that I let them down so miserably. It really hurts.
if only Bruce was here to help me stay constant. I miss his total commitment. to me.
I wish I knew how to guarantee that it won't happen again. I feel that it won't. I have to be uber vigilant I guess. really so much so. I can't scare them again. never. 

3 years gone.

hard to believe it is three years since I've seen your face. heard your laugh. felt your touch. I started the day in solace, visiting your grave. sitting alone in the sun, looking at the trees just talking to you.
Then the day went downhill. my first husband felt that today was a good day to harangue me, even after reminding him that it was the anniversary of your death. He has little to do with me, except to sit in judgement of my mental health. I am so weary. He wants me to see my therapist more often. I want to be able to afford it. I am proud of my road back to health. He never expresses support, only criticism. Why, today of all days, did he choose to beat me down? 
I miss my man. I miss our life together. 
It is so hard to be so alone. noone to put on the line that says who to call in an emergency.
Noone to choose colors with me.
Noone to watch our son grow up with me. to laugh at his triumphs and his little four year old jokes.
Noone to hold me when I feel alone.
Noone to make me feel less alone.
Shoot me down when I am already melancholy. so sad and so cruel.
I wish I could go back in time. I'd be in London, or Portafino, drinking coffee and laughing by your side. holding hands in the Meditterranean. loving all day.
sleeping by your side.
I still leave room for you in our bed.

summer 2011

last night I thought I saw you standing in the doorway to my bedroom, beckoning me to come in.  I wasn't dreaming, I was in that late night sleepy place but quite awake. I sleep on my side of the bed, as if leaving you room to show up.  I remember the times you came strolling in in your tux, fresh from a gig, with stories of the lousy soundman, the great audience, the new song you tried. I miss those days. Waiting while you shed the tux knowing I'd be the beneficiary of your post show energy. A beer in  one hand, a story to tell and laughs to share. Now it's nearly three years you have been gone. How I wish with my entire being that we could be sharing Jake. When he does something unique I want to lock eyes with you and savor it. How cruel that you only had his first 17 months. How sad that I raise him alone now. He misses you, the idea of you. He says you have to sing 100 songs and then you can come back. Could you  please get started on that?