Log in

No account? Create an account
< back | 0 - 10 |  
Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

Glorious, Because She Was

January 24th, 2013 (11:17 pm)

I have lost two grandmothers, an uncle, and numerous family members whom I did not know. There are people who have died whom I've known, only in passing. However, on Tuesday, January 22, 2013, at approximately 10:00 AM, I lost my first friend. Glorious died...one day before her 75th birthday.

My mom and I are the ones who found her on the floor of her living room at 5:00 PM on Monday, in a pool of her own urine. Judging from the quantity, I have no doubt that she had been there all day, if not all night, as well. At this point, although the only thing she could do was move her eyes and her left arm a bit, she was still alive. My mother called 911, and within seven or so minutes, there were six men in the house, asking a barrage of questions, to which we mostly did not know the answers. Upon preliminary examination, one of them said it was probably a stroke. They rushed her away, and we started cleaning her house for when she returned. Or at least that's what we thought at the time. While my father and I finished cleaning, my mother began the terrible task of finding Glo's brothers' phone numbers and making calls. She reached one of them. He said he would come down the next morning.

We went to the emergency room to see her after the calls were made. When we arrived, she was sound asleep, snoring daintily, tucked under the covers like a burrito. Other than for the black eye from landing on, and being unable to get off of, her face after the fall (I found the black eye, in and of itself, extremely upsetting), she looked perfectly fine...just overly tired. The nurse who was in her room when we arrived asked if we were family. I think all three of us, for a few seconds, were considering the answer to that question. But my mom finally spoke and said, "No, we're just her neighbors," which I think did not actually describe our relationship, but it wasn't the time to quibble.

"I'm so sorry, but I can't share any information with you then," the nurse said.

We sat by her bedside. Staring, because there was nothing to say. A little later there was a loud noise outside her room in the hall, and Glo's eyes shot open. She made eye contact with me and I smiled while worrying that my tears would upset her (she would not abide pity). But she was asleep again within two seconds. That happened a few more times while we were there. If she was able to register who we were, then she only knew that my mother and I were there because my father kept pacing the room near the foot of her bed. I wished he would stand by her head so that she could see him, but I didn't say anything since it wasn't my place.

After a couple of hours, the ER doctor came in and asked who we were. We told him we were her friends. He asked if she had family in San Antonio, and my mother said, "We're the closest thing in San Antonio."

"Then you all will do..."

And he told us. He confirmed that she had had a massive stroke and that her brain was so swollen that if they did nothing, then she would die. However, if they did surgery, she would probably die. Then he said that if she did have family anywhere else, they needed to come see her now if they were going to.

Glo died before her daughter was able to make it here from Afghanistan. Glo died before one of her brothers arrived from Houston. And Glo might have died before her other brother finally arrived from Corpus. She died while I was at a doctor's appointment, while my father was at work, and while my mother was at home transcribing. She died while her best travel buddies were in Laredo, traveling. After leading such an amazing life, full of amazing people, she died alone.

I can't stop thinking about her. I'll be at work, trying to juggle 10 different things, and I'll see her, twisted on the floor. I've seen my two grandmothers die slow, horrible deaths from cancer. Same thing with my uncle. But seeing Glo like that is by far the worst thing I have ever seen, and as stupid as this may sound, I feel totally traumatized. My mother asked me to go with her to Glo's to take care of Daisy, and I couldn't bring myself to go. Just thinking about going made me remember the smell when we walked into the house. It made my heart start beating fast. I hate myself for feeling that way, but there you go.

I also hate myself for one of the last long talks we had being when I told her I wouldn't be taking care of her dogs anymore. I hate myself for having not gone to visit last week after she got back from her cruise. I hate myself for not inviting her to dinner more often. I hate myself for being a bad friend, yet again, and I can't imagine the feeling going away any time soon.

I am heartbroken. Utterly.

I love you, Glorious, because you were.hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

Why Did You Do That??

November 27th, 2012 (10:07 pm)

current mood: giddy

As of Saturday, November 17, 2012, I am now the proud owner (wearer? bearer?) of a third tattoo.

Along the posterior side of my right forearm from elbow to wrist runs "I have come to this lonely place" while along the left from wrist to elbow runs ". . . and here is the other." It's a slightly modified quotation from Sherwood Anderson's novel Winesburg, Ohio.  (I changed a "this" to a "the" because it made more sense for my purposes.)  When I was first reading this novel, I got to this line and got chills, because I knew I had finally found a way to encompass the anomalous nature of my parents' relationship in a way that fully satisfied me.

Neither of my previous tattoos were by any means "cool" or well liked by people.  But I am a bit perplexed by the negative reaction most people - including complete strangers - are having to this new one.  It seems that they are so perplexed by it that they feel the need to ask question after question about it with each successive question attempting to delve deeper and deeper into me, which makes me intensely uncomfortable.  But their dislike has made me like the tattoo even more, for some reason.

I hope it doesn't take me another eight years to think of my next one.hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

I Wanna Buy A House

October 5th, 2012 (03:24 pm)

current mood: amused

The mortgage calculator asks me to enter how much I make per month, before taxes. Next, it asks me to enter my monthly debt payments. It also wants to know how much I can give down, and what kind of interest rate I think I’ll be able to get.

I fill everything out, and click “submit.” I sit, with a smile on my face, eagerly waiting to find out the price of the house that I should try to buy.

And then it tells me.

I can afford to buy a house that costs -$17,462.

So someone will have to give me $17,462, so that I can afford a house that costs zero. Ha!hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

A Nose for Smells

August 19th, 2012 (10:29 am)

17 hours in a 121-year-old house with a broken air conditioner during a blistering San Antonio summer can really put a damper on one's mood. However, if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, then you too can play Name That Smell. As the temperature climbs degree by degree, more and more smells will begin to arise, becoming stronger and stronger as the heat jostles the molecules into a veritable smell frenzy. I eventually won the game by identifying the smell of human misery. Luckily, there was nothing in the Name That Smell rule book explicitly disallowing you from identifying smells emanating from one's self, so I easily cinched it.hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

Where's the Bathroom?

August 9th, 2012 (05:36 pm)

She should have stopped three or four drinks ago, but nobody says anything; her husband has just died. The always-immaculate woman I've always known is not here tonight. In her place is a shattered waif in a stained slip. She has neglected to put in her bridge, and I fight to keep from staring at her jack-o-lantern teeth. Was this a choice or an oversight? My musings are interrupted; she is slapping the flimsy table with both hands and cackling viciously, silverware skittering toward the edges and clattering to the ground. I try to figure out what's funny, but when my attention returns she is crying. Her dead-spouse roller coaster is churning my stomach, and I wish that I were better equipped to help her get through this, but I'm not. So I do the only thing I can think to do and go to the bathroom.

"You were gone a long time. Are you okay?" her friend asks me upon my return.

"I'm fine. My husband isn't dead," I say.

"Oh, you're married?" she asks.

"No," I shrug.

I can tell by the look on her face that we're not going to be friends, so I grab my drink, get up, and go back to the bathroom. hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

Don't Bring Me Down

July 25th, 2012 (10:49 pm)

current mood: uncomfortable

"Just you. No one else matters. Fuck them."

The pressure squeezes the air from my lungs.  Even if it wasn't meant literally, or wholeheartedly, the implied responsibility frightens me, and my first instinct is to run.  Don't you know that I avoid responsibility?

"Just you."

I used to think that I wanted to be someone's just you.  And for a long time, I was.  But looking back, the realization that I allowed myself to be swallowed up by the just you-ness, by the mistaken belief that being someone's just you meant I was special and safe and happy, makes me wince.  I should have recognized what was happening.

"No one else matters."

And yet you drank yourself stupid, rehashing the supposed slights that dripped from their lips throughout the night.  Why didn't you make them leave?  Don't you know you deserve better?

"Fuck them."

Yes, because they've fucked you.  Because you've been fucked, by everyone, in every way, your entire life.  I can't pretend to know your pain, or relate to even a fraction of your experiences.  But how far do I allow myself to be dragged down in the name of support?  I should look out for my own interests for a change.hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

Face It...

July 18th, 2009 (12:48 am)

current mood: energetic

I bought a ticket to an upcoming performance of Carmina Burana. Since no one wanted to spend $100 to go see the show, I decided to go alone.

And I raced my car the other day. I'm glad I did it as I had never had that experience, but I won't be doing that again. I'm way too paranoid to do stuff like that more than once.

And I applied for a kick ass job.

I'm all about doing things that would normally make me extremely uncomfortable...I'm proud of me! hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

I'm not packed yet. Ugh.

May 20th, 2009 (11:56 pm)

current mood: confused

I leave for Munich tomorrow. I can't believe I'm going to Germany. What's more, I can't believe I'm going to Germany without him. webstatistics

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

Germans Love David Hasselhoff

April 13th, 2009 (10:01 pm)

current mood: ecstatic

I just booked my flight to Munich. My two best friends and I are going to celebrate turning 30. AAAAAAH!!! hitscounter

Jesus, Jr. [userpic]

Death to Parking Garages

March 26th, 2009 (10:17 pm)

current mood: sleepy

Today, I parked in the parking garage. I usually avoid parking garages at all costs because, of all the driving maneuvers (sounds like manure) there are, I'm by far the worst at parking. But I drive on in and keep driving because I can't find a spot that I'm confident I can get both in to and out of without hitting or scratching cars or posts. So I drive and drive, and I've wound my way up three levels so far and everything looks the same and the cars are all the same.

Well, that was because I wasn't driving up to different levels...I was driving around the same level...because there was only one level.

I was telling my friend about this because I tell her all the stupid stories that spring forth out of my Work Time and she said, "It sounds like there's a lesson there," but the only lesson I learned from it was that I should never - as I had previously suspected - go into parking garages. webstatistics

< back | 0 - 10 |