Mom's Curlers

"Do you know where your mother's curlers are?"

The question took me off guard.

My step dad called and asked me where my mom's rollers were.  Mom died several years ago from lung cancer.  My sister and I went through all of her stuff at his request and tossed what we tossed and kept what we kept.

I thought it was a strange question.  So I made a smart ass comment...

"Are you planning on making a change?"

He didn't even chuckle.

His girlfriend wanted to have her hair curled.

I sat on the other end of the phone...stunned.

Why would anyone want to use a dead woman's curlers?

I must admit that I struggle daily with the loss of my mom.  But I knew that my step dad was going to move on.

The problem is that I don't think he understands my own grief.  He doesn't understand that things he randomly does or say regarding my mom really bothers me.

It was very very difficult to see another woman sit at my mom's table and even more difficult to watch her sleep in my mom's bed.

(My eyes sting when I typed that just now)

The first time I met the girlfriend, she was sitting topless at the kitchen table right where my mom had her coffee.  I wanted to vomit and run.

The thing with the curlers is that my mom always set her hair.  She used those black rollers with the bristles and the plastic pointy pins and once her hair was up, she wrapped it in a red bandanna.

I could never figure out how in the hell did she sleep with those things in her hair.

In the morning she would take out the rollers and tease her hair until it was mad and sky high in the hair.  Sometimes I wish I had a picture of that sight.

I don't think that I can ever go visit the house ever again.  It is just like my mom was erased from a sketch and you can see the blurred lines just barely.

Grief is a weird emotion.

Pain Caused by Heartbreak Can Leave Scars

The following "poem" was a free write I did back in 2008.  I found it while I was looking for something else.

I met Mike in 2006 and we fell in love and then he disappeared.  With no rhyme or reason or explanation.  He just disappeared.  Sometime in 2009 I heard from him again.  His sweet talk and lovey dovey crap came at me like a freight train.  I was cautious and eventually pushed him away and out of my thoughts.  I really haven't thought much about him since then and I found this.

The emotional turmoil that the man left me in was something I have never experienced before in my life.  I think this may be way I am so guarded against having serious relationships now.

Pain caused by heartbreak can leave scars.

(apologies for the hard language in the photo.....it fit the emotion at the time of the writing)

God, I miss you.

I hate how it feels to miss you.

I had always expected to be friends.

Then love came oh so unexpected.

You said you loved me first and patiently waited until I loved you next.

To you I was beautiful.

I only wanted to be beautiful to you.

You asked me why I was crying.

I didn't want to tell.

You said I would see you again.

You lied...I think.

Months passed and seasons changed.

You left me with questions without obvious answers.  Subtle shades of grey cloud my reasoning.

I blame myself most of the time.

What did I say?

You know, I see you in my dreams.  Haunting me, taunting me...

Standing there.

I try to push you away.

I try to kick you out.

You are always there.

In my heart, on my mind...

I told you with tears that my biggest fear was losing you.

You assured me that it would never happen..

I am afraid that it already has.

Goodbye my lover...

Stingy

I haven't written in awhile.

I do miss it and during random parts of my day, I think...."I should blog about that".

Then I get home, exhausted, hungry and uninspired.

It is sad but I always say that if I don't come home from work tired, I didn't do my job right.

Anyway, that isn't why I decided to write.

I have realized that I have become very stingy with my free time.  I see many people every day.  I talk to strangers.  I help them find what they are looking for.  I talk to my coworkers.  I help them every day with this and that.

When I get home.  I want my time.

It is kind of weird.

I sometimes don't even want to talk on the phone.

Time is something that I don't have much of.

On my days off, I like to sit and do my own thing.  I have even pulled out my beads and crap to start working on my creative jive again.

On another thought....isn't stingy a funny word?

Life's Little Inconveniences

I always hesitate to post "Worst Day Ever" as my status on Facebook.

I had a few things go wrong today that caused me to question my sanity and a higher power as to why I was the chosen one today to receive such interesting events to happen.

I didn't cry about anything so there's that.

I did happen to loose my keys at the gas station this morning about 6 AM.  My keys slipped out of my hand and fell to the pavement and rolled in between the pump and the cement.  The crack was only about an inch wide but my bulky keys wanted to show the world that they were thin enough to fit.  The attendant came out with a screwdriver and attempted to fish them out only to push them deeper and out of sight.  *sigh*

I got a ride back to my apartment to get the spare key.  While we were riding, I was using the new app on my phone to transfer money from one account to the other in order to pay for the gas.  In my panic, I managed to lock my account up tighter than a drum and there was no money for gas.  I then had to call my son to come and pay for my gas.  *sigh*

Still not the worst day ever though....

There's more.....

I arrive at work about 45 minutes late which throws off my morning mojo.  I scrambled to get my routine on track.  I then discovered the bin of rotten watermelon.  There were 45 rotten melons to be exact.  These melons had to be hauled out to the organic bin.  We have someone pick up the organics for a compost pile.  Anyway, while I was tossing melons, one decided that I was way too clean in my white shirt and tan pants and exploded in a glory of watermelon vomit and stench.  *sigh*

At lunchtime, I called my bank to unlock my account.  This took about half my lifetime (kidding) to remedy.  Of course, the locked account caused my child support to be delayed and this left me with no lunch money.  *sigh*

I ended up working longer to make up for the morning.  When I left work, I went to the wrong spot to fetch my car.  I parked on the OTHER side of the lot today. Why????  Lord, only knows....

I started thinking about telling everyone that I had the worst day ever.  But did I really?

You would think my worst day would be when my mother passed away or when I fell off the ladder and busted my leg all to hell.  But no, these aren't the worst days. 

I didn't die.  The world didn't implode.  The moon didn't crash into the sun.  

I honestly don't think there is such a thing as the worst day ever.

These are just life's little inconveniences.

Are You Appreciated for the Work that YOU Do?

I am still using my son's laptop with the touchy keyboard.  I hope I can finish this post without giving up.  I also hope that the typos are minimal.

I think I have posted before about loving what I do.

To recap:

When I lost my last job I made a list of all the jobs I have had since I was 12ish.  I circled my top three favorite jobs, two were food service work and the third was Walmart. 

I applied at the local store and was interviewed and hired so fast....my head spinned.  I accepted the position of Sporting Goods sales associate.  I loved every second of it.  I loved the Black Friday insanity.  I loved the Christmas chaos.  I loved watching sales ebb and flow with the changing months.  I also learned.  I earned full time status.  I earned sick time, vacation time, stock options, retirement plan and paid holidays.  I earned employee of the month and I also earned a promotion.

I worked very hard for everything I earned.  I haven't even been there a whole year yet.

I love every tiring second of it.

I manage produce. 

Produce is not for pansies.

It is super hard work, physically and mentally.

I know, you are rolling your eyes.

pfft....

Walk a day in my worn out shoes.

Anyway....

Time came again for a "promotion" of sorts.  I put my name in, was interviewed for the position and was offered the position.

Of course I accepted (yay me!)

But....

I must note here that the one thing that is consistent with Walmart is change.  This is nothing new to me.

A week or so after I accepted the new position, the job duties changed.

It weighed heavy on my mind.  

The new position would not be as challenging as my current one.  The rate of pay would not change.  

I had a heart to heart discussion with the store manager and an assistant manager.  I decided to keep my current position.

I am NOT afraid of hard work.

But....this is not the whole point of this blog entry.

In all of my years of working, I have never ever been so appreciated for what I do.  I don't get a mass email form my supervisor "thanking me for all that I do".  When an email goes out to the whole team, you kind of realize that he is doing that because it is required of him.  It doesn't motivate, it makes you feel less of a valued employee (at least I felt that way).

I didn't just get a 2% yearly raise, I have increased hourly wage by 50% in less than a year.  I make more money now than I have in the last 7 years.

I received a quarterly bonus for the first time ever.  I worked for a billion dollar corporation and didn't even receive a Christmas bonus.

Speaking of Christmas bonuses, we get 20% off our purchases just before Christmas.

I don't sit and wait for someone to hand me something to do.  I don't spend countless hours bored out of my mind behind a desk, waiting for the phone to ring or a quote to be done.  I take ownership of what I am responsible for and I make it happen.

Appreciation can go a long way for an employee.

Take the time, thank them personally.  Give them responsibility.

As an employee, earn what you deserve.  Don't expect it to just fall into your lap.

If you think your job sucks, then it will.

Is There a Flag for That?

I am just frustrated with my country and most of its people these days.

I am not gay nor am I getting married so I just don't give a shit about who can get married or not.  I honestly don't think anyone should get married these days.  Love shouldn't be bound by a piece of paper.

I also think that it isn't 1862 and I don't live in the South.  I don't give a shit about flags.  I really don't.  If it offends you, get over it.  Strong odors offend me, you don't hear me bitching about that.

Good grief people.

There is so many other things that should be a concern other than what other people are doing or what offends them.

I work hard everyday.  I like what I do.  I don't complain about bruises and tired arms.  What bothers me is that I what I make per hour isn't even enough to throw me over the poverty level.  I also don't qualify for aid or help.  I have kids to support and bills to pay.

Why can't we fix that?  Why can't we have poor people parades?  Why can't poor people wave a freaking flag?

Don't even get me started on affordable health care.  I pay for my health insurance and I also have medical bills thanks to my affordable health care.  I would like to hear a valid definition of what is considered "affordable".

Seriously...

America has so many homeless people.  America has so many unemployed.

I see so many kids these days post with poor grammar and spelling.  They can't do basic math.  I don't even think they learn history to even understand the issues today and where they stem from.

Why can we fix that?

Crazies are toting guns into places and shooting whoever they please.  I hear cries of gun control.  What about controlling the crazies?

Why does this happen?  Where is the flag for that?  How about a parade?

Why does no one really care about the important things?

I honestly think our priorities are in the wrong places.

Anger in Grief

I haven't blogged in awhile.

My laptop took a crap and I am using my son's, which isn't the easiest to use.  As I type, the cursor moves around and typos happen.

I also haven't had much to say.  Who wants to hear about my adventures in fondling tomatoes and inspecting bananas?

Anyway....

This time of year is graduation.  It is a happy time for families and students.

As I scrolled through my Facebook feed the other day I came across a photo of my aunt and uncle with their granddaughter.  I teared up suddenly.  My aunt looks so much like my mother.  The same salt and pepper hair, the same shape face.  I starred at the photo.  My cousin's daughter reminds me of my own with long brown hair and a wide smile.  I cried.

My mother died a few years ago from lung cancer.  I never really sobbed over it.  I don't think I grieved like you would imagine what grieving would be like.  It is weird and hard to explain.  I just expected to break down but I never did.

Back to the photo...

I think my tears came from anger.  I am angry at my mom for dying.  It is such a raw and real emotion.  It came from just picturing my own mother and daughter on Kate's graduation day.  This will never happen.

I used to think my mom would be around to share in my children's life events.

I think what angers me the most is that she was so selfish to not see a doctor sooner or to take better care of herself.  She admitted that she hadn't seen a doctor of 17 years prior to the cancer diagnosis.

Maybe is a normal feeling to be angry.

I also think I am thinking more of missing my mother because I have been through some rough times over the last couple of years.  There are times I wish I could just call her.  She had a way of talking you off the ledge and give you a sense that everything will be ok.

Sigh...