May 18 Dinner at moms
I haven't been able to spend time with moms for a couple of weeks so I thought I'd visit her at work. She got flowers from someone. She's prettier.
Me: What have you been watching, mom?
Mom: Hem-Hemi-Hemigo... I don't know, Ohma. Were-woof, I think.
Me: Hemlock Grove?
Mom: Yeah, that's it.
...later in the evening...
Me: How come you don't like the Walking Dead? It's a good show.
Mom: I don't like zombie, Ohma. You and you brother like it but not me. You know why? It's not real, Ohma. It never happen.
Me: Mom, you watch Hemigo.
Friday with moms:
Ohma, who's that chef? Ram? -Ram? - Rambo!
Moms: Ohma, someone come in my store & they from Chuckles.
Mom: Chuck public
Me: The Czech Republic?
Mom: Yeah, that’s it.
August 18, 2014
I was asked today: Do you think about where he is at right now?
I don't care. He is not with me.
Do you think you'll see him in the next life?
I don't care. And if I did, I would end my life right now to get to the next one.
Do you think he is with god?
I don't care and if I did, I would hate god with every fiber of my being. Thoughts of god are of no comfort to me.
Do you think he's trying to communicate with you?
I don't want nor need him to. He's gone. I can't touch him. I can't hold him. I can't kiss him. He's just... gone.
Do you think you'll ever love again!
I love now. Right now. And it hurts. I don't care about "again."
I'm not angry. I'm okay, because I'm practical. I'm a realist. I have lost the vestiges of every religion because right now they all seem to be nothing but a crutch to feel better about a tragedy. I don't need a crutch, nor want it. I don't care to feel better. I miss him. That's all. I will miss him for a long time to come.
The crying is down to only a few times a day. I am dealing. I have great friends and an awesome family. Mike has an awesome family. I feel bad I am unable to comfort others with their loss of Mike because I know he was loved by many. He touched a lot of lives in the very best of ways.
It's hard to be in the house alone but so far, it's rare. My friends and family have helped a lot and for that I am overwhelmed with love and appreciation.
On September 23rd, I celebrated my birthday with a good day at work and with a home cooked dinner, television, and a great night with my fiancé, Michael LeDuc. He had gotten me flowers, as he does every year. He made dinner and I taught him how to make gravy by adding flour to the sauce. We watched an episode of Dr. Who and then we made love and cuddled.
We talked about everything from plans for house improvements to calling his penis the Tardis, because it's bigger when it's on the inside. We talked about how we loved our relationship compared to others we knew. We talked about the reason why I bought fabric softener for some of my washing and the upcoming vote at his union and what it might mean for him work-wise.
Then we kissed, curled out fingers together, entwined our legs, and fell asleep like we do almost every night.
The next morning, early, I got ready for work and then curled up behind him in bed to kiss him goodbye. He held my hand and squeezed it. I kissed him repeatedly. We loved and we laughed and he told me to have a good day at work. I said I would and left.
I left work at 630, texted him to let him know I was on my way, waited a few minutes, then left work for home. I had to stop for gas and I stopped for coffee. When I pulled into the driveway I could see that the interior lights were off but he was home. A flash of worry did cross my brow, but this had happened before. It's rare, but it had.
I entered the house, put down my belongings and headed towards the bedroom clicking on the hall light. I screamed and ran towards a Michael that was face down on the bedroom floor. He was naked and not moving. I tried to flip him over but I couldn't so I called 911. The operator had me try flipping him over again to check for breathing. I maneuvered and finally succeeded. He was purple on the flip side. He had been dead a while. The 911 operator had me perform CPR and count out loud to her. The medics arrived almost immediately and ushered me outside. They came out of the house almost as quick as they had arrived.
I gathered my breath at the insistence of the medics and finally made some calls. Soon, the front yard was filled with family and friends. When the coroner gave us her report it was short. He seems to have been dead for about 8 hours. There seems to be no trauma so she was requesting a toxicology report and we should get results within 6-8 weeks.
I am not alone, per se, but I feel lonely. Michael was my friend, lover, companion, and confidante. We had been friends since we were about 15 years old. We spent nearly every weekend together for almost 10 years. We worked and played together. We didn't start dating until 4 years ago (2009) but it seemed like we had been partners since we had met. We knew everything about one another and longed to learn more. We never fought or argued. We discussed and conversed... and we loved.... each other, deeply.
Today is my birthday. I am 46 today. First call, early this morning, was from my mom, then coffee and birthday wishes from my love, and then the Facebook well wishes inundated my timeline. It will be an impossibility to thank each and every one, but I do appreciate them all.
I received some small gifts, which I love of course, but gifts are never a necessity. It is an absolute joy just to know I have been thought of, to have been in your mind, if just for a moment.
The girls met me at Plush BBW Nightclub. They brought balloons and a veggie tray. In lieu of cake, they brought watermelon. It was great! I took a few pictures. Here is one.
"Is it sad that facebook had to tell me how old I was since
I don't remember from year to year?"
"Happy birthday and if you like I can always remind you how old you are from year to year because if memory serves we are both the same age."
I think I forget from September to September as a denial device... So when I look in a mirror and still see my youth... it is a pleasant surprise.
So, no, William. Thank you, but no.
And not that you were being or offered to be brutally honest but you did remind me of one of my favorite quotes and why I am who I am:
"People who are brutally honest get more satisfaction out of the brutality than out of the honesty." ~Richard J. Needham
Everyone has a story to tell; sometimes several, including me. Here are some stories from my life and from others.
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