I had a dream

I had a dream last night, or should I say early this morning right before I woke. Dreams are very difficult to remember let alone make sense of but I do remember parts of it vividly. It appears that after each dream you have in which you recall parts of, you always seem to wake. Normally you realize you were dreaming, but you are half unconscious and always want to go back to sleep afterwards. I almost did but as I was rolling over to check the time and then go back into a deep slumber for a few more hours, I recalled that this dream had my father in it so I forced myself to stay awake and try and remember the parts I could.

I would say this is the third dream I have had with my father in it since he has passed. None of them make any sense. The first was of my father sitting in the dinning room. He started to tell me that my ex is in deep trouble. As he put it, “You would not believe the kind of shit he is involved in.” My father then went on to tell me that he had gotten married. At this point I said, “WHAT? How the hell did he get married if we are not even technically divorced yet?” To this my father shrugged his shoulders and said, “I have no idea but he managed to find a way. Of course it is not technically legal, but he did it.” I was asking him more questions when my mother who was watering her plants on the windowsill had interrupted our conversation to say, “How the hell did he even get married, you are not divorced yet?” I began telling my mother that I had asked the same question and as she began to ramble on some more, I told her to be quiet as I was trying to listen to what Dad had to say. As I turned back to tell him to continue, he was gone.

The second dream that I can recall happened when I was away in Rhode Island. It was an odd dream and I only recall a brief portion of it. I was in the yard and I saw a tornado coming so I ran into the house. I began telling everyone to open the windows. I called a time as a child when Hurricane Gloria hit and we cracked all the windows just a tad to equalize the pressure in the house so the roof did not pop off or something. So here I am years later in a dream running around telling everyone to open the windows. As I am running through the house I ask, “Are you supposed to open them or close them…. I think they are supposed to be opened.” As I was frantically passing by the living room, I recalled seeing my father sitting in his chair watching me and he said in that, what are you stupid tone of voice that he often used- “Open- everyone knows you open them not close them.” So I began scurrying around the house trying to get the window open and everyone to safety. I have absolutely no idea why I was having this dream let alone why my father was watching me figure out how to equalize the pressure in the houses, but he was there nonetheless. Now the strange part about all this is that it was a short dream to my recollection and an odd one so I had forgotten it until breakfast that morning when my brother told me he had seen on the news that there was a tornado warning for Newport, RI and he did not think driving there to see the mansions was such a good idea. I mean what are the odds that I have a dream with my father, and impending tornado and an actual tornado warning for the town I happen to be at while on a long weekend away from home?

On to dream three which took place last night/ this morning. I recall that I was fishing with my father and my family. It was the 5 of us and we were all taking turns catching fish. As usual when it was my father’s turn, he did not catch anything and made this face he often did when he was disappointed or jealous that someone else had caught a fish or a bigger fish when he was striking out. In the end, he did end up catching one and had a big smile and a look of excitement about him even though I only saw him from the back or the side profile.

Now what is weird about this dream is that we were not on a boat at all and certainly not on his boat. The person fishing you could tell was raised up from the water almost as if they had been sitting in the fighting chair. You saw the pole and the person reeling in the fish. You could see someone stepping on the fish once it was reeled in to try and release the hook, but there was no boat that I recall- or perhaps there was at first. I saw the waves and the wake in my dream where the line had been cast as would be the case on the ocean where the engines cut through the water, but again, we were not on a boat and not on the ocean. I remember that there was only one fighting chair and so we all had to take turns. When one person would catch a fish, we would switch positions and the other 4 of us would entertain ourselves. The entertainment came in the form of swirling around a giant Olympic sized swimming pool with giant balloons that we were hanging onto. That’s right- we were not fishing on the ocean or on a lake, but in a giant swimming pool. Despite the fact I knew with absolute certainty that we were in a pool, the water was not crystal clear – it was a dark color as would be the case in the ocean of the Atlantic not too far off shore.

One person fished at a time from this imaginary fighting chair. There was a first mate who was baiting the hook and removing the fish but I never saw his face, I just knew he was there to help. There was a wake or a drag from where the imaginary boat engine had been cutting through the dark ocean waters of this swimming pool and in the back where 4 of us waiting our turn being dragged around in circles by ropes on large balloons or buoy balls as if we were tubing from the back of a race boat. As I said, the entire dream was odd, but it continued to get more so from what I can remember.

I believe that my father caught the last fish and it was his turn to ride the balloons around in circles while someone else fished. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves but it appears that all the water and swirling around had made my father a bit ill. The next thing I recall was him standing up and hunching over. He was throwing up and I was nervous it would be blood. My mother was all the sudden standing there and we went from this deep pool to very shallow waters where we could stand and it was only ankle or shin deep. As I was holding up my father saying, “What’s the matter are you going to throw up?” he did in fact start to vomit. My mother started instructing me to have him throw up on the stairs. I shifted my angle some to look up a tad and noticed a steep staircase. They were not your typical pool stairs, but the kind you might see in the back area of a supermarket or in an office building leading up to the next level.

I began taking my father up the stairs. I put his arm around my shoulder and my shoulder was in his armpit as I helped boost him up each step as I had done many a times before when he was ill. The next thing you know we were heading down a flight of stairs and my shoulder in his armpit and my other arm around his waist acted as a brace of sorts so that he could lean on me without having to worry about tumbling down the steps. The entire stair climbing incident reminded me very much of his last few days when he was too weak to climb the stairs at home and I all but had to carry him down in the morning and help him up to bed in the evening.

The next thing you know, we were at the bottom of these stairs and we are standing in some hallway or corridor area. There is a door to our left and I am about to take him through it when I look back and see my sister and mother making their way down the steps. I propped my father up for a moment and covered him with a big brown robe my aunt had bought him that he unfortunately only wore once before his passing. I asked my mother to throw down our shoes so we did not get our feet dirty on the germy floor. I take it that behind that door was some medical facility or hospital. All the sudden I had shoes and I threw them down on the floor and helped my father lift one foot at a time. I saw his feet as clear as day. He had the most ugly toes and we used to joke that at times his toenails would get so long he could hang from a tree and swing from them. Well don’t you know it, in my dream, his big nasty big toe toenail got caught and I had to bend down to maneuver the sandals around the nails.

With sandals on and wrapped in a robe, I looked over at my father and he did not look well. I asked him, “Do you want us to take you to the hospital?” He did not answer as I know he knew that he needed to go there but did not want to go. He hated when we took him to the hospital in his final days. I just said to his non-reply, “We are going to take you to the hospital now.” As I looked up at him, all the sudden he looked very, very ill. His face was sunken in and a bit jaundice and waxy looking. His eyes were wide open and shimmered in the light but it was a blank stare of someone that was there physically, but not mentally. His eyes were big and black yet they appeared blurry and glossed over if that makes any sense. To tell you the truth, he looked as he did on his deathbed at the hospital. The last time I saw his eyes like that, I had to pull them closed after he had passed away.

As I stood there preparing to open the door to our left, my sister was running down the stairs with my father’s phone. He had a blackberry towards the end which he affectionately referred to as his BLUEberry, yet in the dream, my sister was carrying my father’s old Nextel phone that was work issued. She began saying it was some guy Steve from Newsday. I looked over at my father and knew he was too ill to take the call. I told my sister, “He can’t talk now he is very sick.” I am not sure if all the sudden my sister relayed a message, but it was as if I were hearing the conversation on the other end of the line. It appeared they wanted to check in and see how my father was doing. They also told my sister that when we were ready, they had prepared an obituary for him if we wanted to use it. Of course they would let us read it and approve it before hand but it was ready for print. This guy Steve also told us that they had an old photo of him from 1992 or 1993 where he was shooting a football game for them which they wanted to use unless we would rather use a different photo of our choosing. As my sister was relaying the message to me, I looked over and my father still had that blank stare on his face. He looked almost comatosed. I started talking to him and there was no reply. I tried to shake him a bit and then I broke down hysterical crying and grabbed him to hug him. It was too late, he appeared to be gone. My mother reached over to grab my sister and hug her- phone still in her hand. The two of them where hysterical crying as I stand there hugging my father. But wait……all the sudden a faint voice - a very faint voice. My father was not gone just yet, he had a brief moment where he tried to whisper something in my ear just before he was gone for good. I yelled out, “Quiet, he is trying to say something” but when I leaned over to ask him to repeat it, there was silence. This time he was gone and this is also where I woke up.

I know it is only a dream, but oh how I wish I was able to hear the message my father was trying so desperately to whisper in my ear. If only everyone else had not been making so much noise I could have heard him. You see when my father passed for real, I never go to say good-bye to him- at least not in a way that he could hear, understand and respond to me. Oh how I wish I had a chance to tell my father good-bye and have him tell me a few last words of wisdom before he passed. By the time I go to be alone with him in the hospital that cold night in January, he was non-responsive. The nurse thinks he had slipped into a coma a few hours before. Everyone else got to say their good-byes except for my mother and I. If only I could go back in time but I can not and so I struggle to move forward.

A few weeks ago I went to a psychic after loosing my job hoping she would tell me words that there were better things in my future to help me through the trying times ahead. Well that was my hope. Towards the end, she had me feeling more depressed and hopeless and tried to get me as a client. But towards the beginning, I felt she was very accurate and truthful picking up on many things there is no way she could have known. One thing she picked up on was that I recently suffered a loss from someone close to me. She then went on to say that it happened very quickly and it was not supposed to happen that way. She also mentioned that there were words left unsaid and that this person tries to come to me from time to time in dreams and tell me things, yet I never pick up on it or understand what they are trying to tell me at the time. And so I say again….Oh how I wish the others in my dream were not making so much noise so that I could have heard the words my father was trying to whisper in my ears.

I finally worked up the nerve to go to the cemetery the other day. It was a very emotional day for me- almost as if 5 months of trying to hold everything in had hit me at once. I brought my father some roses too. You see my father was ill for some time and he knew he was very sick. He had watched his mother pass away of complications of liver disease when he was 19 years of age. My grandmother who I never met died at the age of 58. Sad as it sounds, my fathers messed up desire out of life was to at least live to the age of 58 so that he could at least say he outlived his mother. It saddens me that he got his wish. As a matter of fact, shortly after he turned 58 last July is when his health started to take a rapid decline. I had noticed a difference in his health and a significant reduction in his weight from May when I moved back home to September. I recall one day he came home from work and I looked up at him and his face was sunken in and he looked sickly and frightening. But after he turned 58 is when his health really started to decline at a rapid rate.

About 2 or maybe 3 years ago my father ordered about 15 or 20 rose bushes. I remember my mother cursing him all summer as she had to dig holes and figure out where to put them all. “Why the hell did you order so many rose bushes?” she would yell at him. Our neighbor had a beautiful rose garden behind their house and my father thought it was the most beautiful thing. He wanted a rose garden of his own, but not for the sheer pleasure of having a rose garden in the yard. He told my mother that he ordered so many roses so that she could plant a garden to remember him by when he was gone. And each summer when they bloomed, we would all think of him as we saw the beautiful roses come up.

Well never in a million years did I imagine that this past week, I would be walking through the yard with a pair of scissors cutting down those very roses he wanted planted in his memory prior to him even passing so that I could now bring them to his gravesite. I cut a few down and I mixed them with a few other flowers I had found around the yard. I went inside and wrapped them in drenched paper towels and wrapped them in aluminum foil and then headed to the cemetery to visit my father for a belated Father’s Day visit.

I don’t know why this trip of all trips hit me as hard as it did. Perhaps it was the flowers on the car seat and the fact I never thought I would really need them for this purpose. Perhaps it was because the fatherless Father’s Day was starting to hit me. Perhaps it is because my life is completely off track, I have no idea how to get it where it needs to be and I am a bit disappointed that he did not do a better job looking out for me. Perhaps it was going through the past five months in a surreal state- only it is real, he is gone and never coming back. I have no idea, but I cried hysterically the entire way to the cemetery. I started having an anxiety attack and then hyperventilating on the Expressway. To be honest, I am not even sure how I drove like that or how I did not end up in the crypt under him. All I know is I got there.

I walked up to my father’s crypt with the roses in one hand and a box of Kleenex in the other. It was hot out- very, very hot. I put the roses on the ground near him and then I sat on the bench in front of his wall. I rested the box of Kleenex to my side and as the sun baked my back and shoulders that were sticking out of my tank top, I sat there hysterical crying. I could feel that my skin was starting to burn, but I did not care, I needed to be there. I needed to be with my dad and talk to him. For the record and to add a bit of levity to the situation, he did not really say much in return, but I talked to him hoping that somewhere out there he would hear me.

To be honest, I only remember parts of what I had to say. I told him that mom was lonely and missed him. I told him that my brother is getting married in 3 months and he was supposed to be here. I told him that he saw my life fall apart and he was supposed to be here to watch me pull it back together again. I told him that I am trying to rebuild but obviously I am not doing a good job and he is of no help. I joked that he could put a little more effort into that project. I told him that I kept in contact with my aunt from time to time and that we tried, but she wants to be in her own little world and feel sorry for herself and I am just trying to stay positive as much as I can. I told him I had a new boyfriend that came with us to the cemetery the day we visited after the Liver Walk. I then went on to say he most likely would not like him anyway as my father didn’t seem to like anybody. But I told my father that he was a good person and he treated me very well and that’s what counts. I told him my sister was brainwashed by her husband and walking out on their house and God only knows what they are doing.

From here I went on to tell him that I loved him and I missed him. I just wish he would have been a better communicator or told me that he was proud of me for once in my life. He always made me feel like such a disappointment- he made all of us feel that way. I told him that he got to say good bye to everyone and that I made sure my sister got to speak to him in the ER before she got on a plane, but that my mother and I never really got a chance to say good bye. I told him that I sat beside him and spoke with him but I don’t even know if he heard me that day. I reminded him that he once said I was invaluable and thanked me for my help and then before I left for the day, I asked him if he could please return the favor and help me this time. I asked him to help me find direction in my life and to help me find a good job and to land on my feet.
And while it was merely a dream, Oh how I wish I heard the words he was trying to whisper in my ear before he had passed- perhaps they were the words left unsaid when he died for real.

Gone but certainly not forgotten.

I contemplated writing today but wasn’t sure I would. I let the day take me where it would but suddenly find myself writing anyway. I contemplated going to the cemetery to visit my father today and as much as I wanted to be there, I also had no desire to get stuck in traffic for 45 minutes on the way back as my timing was a bit off for this trip today. And honestly, I am fighting real, real hard to stay positive in an ever changing and unpredictable world and I knew that if I went to the cemetery I would fall to pieces.

You see yesterday was Father’s Day- my first with no father to celebrate with. Truth be told, I handled it better than I and others thought I would. We tried to get a group together to go out to Orient Beach State Park for a BBQ as had become tradition over the years, but no one seemed interested. In the past my brother and my ex would take him fishing. In more recent years my uncle would join them for the fishing festivities while my mother and I staked a picnic table and a BBQ pit awaiting their catch to be grilled up with the rest of the food we brought along. On Easter my mother and I sat home. At first the idea seemed good as it was a most beautiful day, but having only felt sorry for ourselves afterwards, I decided we needed to get out and enjoy the day away from the house and not have a repeat performance. A change of scenery to take our minds off of things was in order.

For the most part, the day was very pleasant and I handled it quite well. As we were leaving, my mother went into the car for her beach chair and stumbled across my father’s beach hat. They had these matching straw hats and male or female worn- they were hideous. Nonetheless, they both wore them sitting in the yard or at the beach to block the sun and prevent my father’s bald head from burning. Yesterday, my mother came in from the trunk of her car with tears in her eyes letting me know that she had run across his hat. She wondered if we should take it with us and float it out to sea at Orient since he loved fishing and the ocean so much. We ended up leaving the hat in the trunk but I do have to admit that the sentiment got to me a bit.

I tried with all my might to make this a pleasurable day and I guess deep down inside I tried to not think about what the day represented to so many. It ended up being only three of us on the trip- my mother, my boyfriend and I. (In case you are wondering, the boyfriend and I are good. No idea what got into him that weekend in Rhode Island, but he is a good egg and is aware of his actions and I don’t think he will be making those same impatient mistakes again. I may talk more about him or I may not depending on where my writing takes me today but let me finish up my original thoughts first.)

So anyway….. my boyfriend drove my mother and I out to Orient. He lived in Pennsylvania for most of his life, only having moved to Long Island 3 or 4 years ago for a job opportunity. He had never been to this beach and while the beach itself is not the best for bathing, it is beautiful and has an excellent picnic and BBQ area. There is even a man that rents kayaks to take out in the Bay. So when I invited him to join us if he wished, he was ready and willing to go. As we drove there, he made a comment that he had been there last year with an ex-girlfriend for some festival but beyond that, he was not too familiar with the East End of Long Island. I on the other hand was very familiar. I practically grew up there and thought nothing about the hour plus car ride required to get to the end of the Island. Orient one week, Montauk the other. Some days by car just to walk around and see the sites I have seen time and time again, and other time with my father’s boat in tow or to meet a fishing charter during the years he had no boat.

Up until this point, I was doing fairly well. We were laughing and having conversations about this and that in the car but when the comment came up about my boyfriend not knowing this part of the Island that well, I began to look out the window as we drove by and it started to hit me some. Every building, road, restaurant, marina or side street had a story or a memory attached to it. My father loved the East End. He loved the water and he loved to fish. Every time he had a story to photograph for the paper he worked at, he would volunteer to do it on his own free time just so he had an excuse to go out there. (Of course he expensed some of it, but he loved the drive, the scenery, the lifestyle and the calm at that end of the Island) Catapano Farms where he had taken a photo of a woman that made soap and fudge from the goats she raised. Sang Lee’s Farm where he took a ride on a tractor to photograph the crops while the rest of us tasted yummy complimentary stir fry. My ex even ate an ornamental pepper despite the warning not to eat it and shortly afterwards he found himself staring at this tongue in the rearview mirror of the car to see if it had melted out of his mouth.

Down the next street were boat ramps, fishing sites and marinas my father dragged us to time and time again to inquire for his boat launching. Down another street was a restaurant he took us to that his friend at Newsday had opened up with her husband. The food was real good actually and they made fresh homemade mozzarella. They brought it to the table and it was still warm and I thought to myself, “How on Earth could warm cheese be served let alone taste good.” Well I stood corrected because to this day, it was the best fresh mozzarella I had ever eaten. Now truth be told, just about everything on the East End had something to do with fishing, visiting a marina or my father’s boat. After a while we caught on and stopped wanting to take a “ride out East on a beautiful day.” Even my father’s friends restaurant had a hidden agenda. He made it seem as if he was supporting her new business, but truth be told, the restaurant was part of a marina and he was scoping out places to keep his boat and people willing to give him a discount for the season.

So as we drove past each road, farm stand or marina- they all had a story or a memory attached to them. Some people never visit the East End of Long Island or do so very rarely but I suppose that was one thing I had taken for granted until this moment. Yesterday, the drive out East represented not just a nice day, but a lifetime of memories with my father and a series of traditions that had all come to an end during a cold evening in January when he passed. The funny thing is that my father was convinced he had done nothing meaningful in his life and that as soon as he was gone from this Earth that he would so quickly be forgotten. As became evident the other day, he could not have been more wrong. So as the boyfriend drove, I shed a tear, or two or three (hundred) as my mother handed me Kleenex.

Around the time we go to the park I managed to pull myself together some. My boyfriend is pretty active and last week he brought me to visit his family in PA where they camped. He found out my mom had a bike and he was super excited. My induction to meeting his family was a 7 mile bike ride (uphill). Anyway, as Orient Beach State Park has a nice bike trail, we dragged the bikes with us yesterday. While my mother sat on the beach reading her book, we took a ride along the path and then out by the Ferry and into some wooded hiking trail area. Towards the end, it led out by the ocean and then down this path that took us out by the Cable Crossing across from Plum Gut.

We ran into a couple of people fly fishing from the rocks and we stopped to walk around and explore. My boyfriend found himself asking how the fishing was going and why this was a good spot. He got an explanation from someone that seemed to love fishing as much as my father did. This gentleman talked about the tide, the current, the moon and why that was a good spot to fish. And while my boyfriend got educated on a sport he is not that interested in, I recalled the many times my father took us out there on his boat and anchored up. The water was so rough because of the current and the shifting tides and with the anchor holding us in one spot, the boat rocked violently from side to side. I recall many a times how I was forced to lie down on the deck in the blazing heat and try and sleep of the sea sickness my father repeatedly tried to inflict upon me in that very spot. I also recalled my father’s explanation of why this was a good spot to catch the fish and I begged him to please release the anchor and move the boat to calmer waters. Then I recalled a time there at Plum Gut when there happened to be a fishing pole in my way. I was sick and just wanted to sit down and the men had taken over every inch of the boat with blood, guts, fish bate and poles. Trying to make my way to a corner of the front of the boat, I threw a pole to the side which had a rubber bottom. It bounced off the floor and into the ocean it went. I got yelled at that day and I also got the nick name of “pole murderer” which came about every time we hit that spot for some more sea sickness….oh, did I say that- I meant for more fishing.

All these stories of my father, fishing and his boat……… His two passions in life- photography and fishing. Now as I sit in the backyard writing this, I look over and see his boat shrink wrapped in the yard. It has been there for the past 3 or 4 years covered in plastic. My father was so ill he could not even take his boat out. One year he even uncovered it and would sit in the fighting chair in the yard on beautiful summers day secretly wishing he was on the water with a pole in his hand. For years he contemplated selling it, but the very thought brought tears to his eyes as it seemed to be the thing he loved the most in life. He was so upset that he was too ill to use his boat so he would put ads in the paper or on Craigslist to sell it, but as soon as he got a hit, he would rush to take the ad down as he had changed his mind. He knew that if he got rid of his boat, he would never again have another. Last year, he gave that boat to my brother as an early wedding present hoping my brother would get it up an running so he could get out on the ocean on last time. Every time my father was not doing well, my brother would yell at him to hang in there or do what the doctors told him because he needed a first mate on the boat this summer. Upon my father’s death bed, he looked over at my brother and said, “I’m sorry Ant, but I don’t think I will be around to be your first mate on the boat this summer.”

The boat now sits in the yard. My brother contemplated getting it ready but a combination of him planning his wedding and knowing it is going to be a painful task, it just sits there. As I look over at it, a lifetimes of memories lie under that cover and the unwrapping of it will represent a significant person missing from the captains chair. Certainly nothing in life stays the same, but that boat represented so much to all of us and now the days of joking around and catching fish with my father are also gone forever. So as you can see, a trip out East and a jog down memory lane were bitter sweet on Father’s Day.

All this being said, I guess yesterday was a good day. I had some moments but also some fond memories. I thought about going to the cemetery this weekend, but it only would have upset me so. I no longer have a father but it is not like he never existed. They don’t write a manual for this. Am I supposed to ignore the day, honor his memory in some way or go and talk to a wall and hope that secretly he hears me and that is makes a difference?

You see my father was not the best communicator, nor was he emotional or supportive as a father. He never really told me outright that he loved me or was proud of me. I guess the closest he ever came was a conversation I overheard him having with my aunt when I was in the other room. My father was sick at the time and as you know, last year was a year of new beginnings, endings, unraveling of my life and then trying to figure out how to put it all together again. Divorce, loss of my job, having to move and then ultimately helping to care for my father and get his affairs in order as I saw his passing coming (just not so quickly).

For whatever reason, my father never really opened up to any of his kids and not even to my mother at times, but he would always spill his guts to his sister. One day I heard him talking to my aunt and he said, “You know who I feel the worst about….Net. She has been through so much and now she has to be taking care of me. It is just not fair to her.” As I got his disability papers in order for work and then applied for his social security disability, took him to doctors, drove him to hospitals, made his appointments and got his meds in order, he did say to me once or twice- “Thank you for all your help. I don’t know what I would do without you.” I guess this was the closest he would ever come to being proud of me but that did not come until the very end when he saw his time drawing near and he began making amends for years of not telling the people in his life what they meant to him.

Anyway, this morning I woke up and was sick to my stomach. I was just anxious about the state of affairs in my life, not knowing where I am headed, the whole job thing all over again. Thinking back to a time I went through this last year and wondering if I was strong enough to go through it all over again. And lately, I have been thinking about my father a whole lot. I dragged myself out of bed and went for my usual summer walk to get my exercise in, plan my day and clear my head. Towards the end of my walk, I began thinking of my father and how I did not even go visit him for Father’s Day. Knowing my father, he would be disappointed with me and probably the rest of the family as well thinking he had been forgotten. So I contemplated going today but ultimately I never worked up the nerve to go and I must say that I am feeling guilty for not doing more, but really- in this situation, what more could I really be doing to pay tribute to an man that is not here.

As a result of what is going or should I say not going in my life, I imagined myself sitting on the bench in front of his wall crying my eyes out and wondering why. I pictured myself asking if he could return the favor and take care of me this time around because I seemed to be at a loss for answers and direction in my life. I know that things happen for a reason in life- good or bad and that we may never understand or like the reason, but could he please just help point me in the right direction because I don’t know what I am doing wrong lately. It pains me that I find myself in this situation yet I know I must be strong, stay positive and continue to fight for there have to be better days ahead. My rainbow is out there and I have seen glimpses of it here and there. Certain people in my life represent certain bands of color, but ultimately, I know that one day I will see the rainbow in its entirety and what a magnificent rainbow it will be.

I could go on and on writing about this and that as I have so many thought going through my head right now, but I think I will stop here for today. I will leave this blog entry about my father, the late, Tony Jerome who while he is gone from my life physically, he will never be forgotten.

I love you Daddy. Please help me to find my way and know that no matter what, you are in my heart and in my thoughts for an eternity!

Sadness consumes me

I am trying with every ounce of my being to be positive and keep a stiff upper lip today, but truth be told, I feel completely depressed, in a state of despair and feel like giving up. Years of being the better person and doing the right things by others has apparently gotten me nowhere. I am a firm believer in what goes around comes around and in Karma to some extent. This was the basis of letting a lot of what my ex did to me go- I just wanted to move on, get myself in a better place mentally and emotionally and in the end, I just knew that deep down inside he would get his eventually. On the flip side, one of the things that has kept me going for so long is that Karma works both ways. I am a good person- I genuinely am. I work hard, I always try to do the right thing, I always take the high road and I constantly sacrifice my own happiness for that of others. I am ethical, honest, a hard worker, extremely logical and level headed. So why? Can somebody just help me to understand why? Why all this is happening to me? What I did to deserve this?

I know, I know…..sometimes bad things happen to good people – been there, done that and heard it a hundred times over. When life hands you lemons make lemonade. Yeah well I freaking hate lemonade….at least I do now. I have the Worlds largest sweet tooth and I am tired of sucking on sour things and pretending I like them. I want and I deserve to enjoy the sweeter side of life.

I feel a total sense of despair right now. I have lost my drive to go on and fight the good fight. I can’t go through life being tough and trying to play fair, do the right thing and fight the battles that I will never come close to winning. I know that self pity is an acid that only eats holes in one’s happiness - but right now, I am very much wallowing in self pity. Right now I am very much feeling sorry for myself and I totally just want to give up. I have lost hope. I had hoped for great things to become of my life and I no longer care what direction my life takes. I mean I do care- very much so, but there is nothing I can do about it so to that I say- FUCK IT. What is the damn point in even trying anymore?

I am a fighter- I always have been. I am tough and I am strong, I have even been called courageous and brave, but the reality is that a person can only be knocked down so many times before they can no longer stand back up waiting for the next beating that is about to come their way.

I try and convince myself that it will be OK. I try and convince myself that things happen for a reason and while I sure wish I knew, I like to think that this is all happening because there is something better waiting out there for me. The truth of the matter is that I am starting to think that maybe nothing is- maybe this is it. Maybe all my trials and tribulations were the best life had to offer and not that it was preparing me for some right of passage to earn a better life, a simpler, easier or even happier life- just that this is all that life has in store for me.

I have learned a lot for my experiences- they have humbled me, they have tested my patience, they have made me stronger and more prepared to face adversity, but they have also left me lacking in true happiness and a state of contentment with my life. Why is it that some people just stumble upon things so naturally in life? Why is it that some people just step in it? Why is it that other and some of them really good people will continue to bust their ass for an eternity and get nothing in return? I had hoped that me being a good person was enough- that if I tried harder, worked harder, stayed positive in the face of so much drama and adversity in my life that good things would eventually find their way to me. And I had thought of how I would embrace them because of all the times I had to go without. I had thought of how much more grateful and appreciative I would be as so many others in life take things for granted. Right now I am wondering if I will ever get that chance.

I had a good life I guess but I had secretly hoped for more. I can tell you that I have sacrificed more than anyone I know. I held myself back in career moves to support my husband and look how well that turned out for me. I had the old stuff, the outdated stuff and the cheaper version of everything but made sure everyone else had the finer things in life. I put my life on hold to take care of my dying father and then my emotionally distraught mother. I worked hard at work- put in extra hours, took stuff home with me- researched things on my own time…..and where did it get me- unemployed for the second time that’s where.

I hate to be on the pity party train, but last year I lost EVERYTHING in my life- my job (OK so the job was not that great), my income, my sense of self, my home, my marriage fell apart (at my own choosing, but still it was a devastating loss). My life’s possessions lie in a storage unit waiting desperately to be uncovered on day. I had a beautiful place that I lived in and now I have a room in someone else’s house and while it is a roof over my head, there are days when it just does not feel like home. I had a father I could turn to for advice and while he was critical at best, you could talk to him and get sound advice on things that really mattered. By the end of last year he forgot my name and turned infant-like at times. And now he is gone for good. I had a family who was helpful and supportive. Now there are family members that have turned the other cheek over stupid things that happened at my father’s funeral. There are family members that went from being supportive to making me feel like a freeloading piece of shit. I did not choose to be living here for so long and I certainly did not chose to be unemployed for as long as I was, then re-employed and unemployed again so recently. Yet despite that not being my choosing or in my control, I hear snide comments behind my back about how it must be nice to have the summer off to enjoy, or it must be nice to have no living expenses, or it must be nice to not have to come home at a normal hour and sleep all day because I have no job to go to. My mother was kind enough to point that out repeatedly this weekend and I was so unappreciative of her lack of respect for me or that fact that I feel like a wounded and defeated soul right now and her words are like hot pokers plunged in to my wounded chest.

For the record- losing your job the first time is horrible but for the second time…..DEVASTATING. Going on to think after what had to have been the worst year of my life that you are getting back on track, you are rebuilding and that things are finally starting to come together and it is going to be OK and then BAM!!!!!! Like a cast iron skillet upside the head at the same time someone simultaneously pulls the rug out from under you. You are down for the count and as you fall, you look over and see the building blocks of your life that you thought you had firmly cemented together start to break apart. Some fall and remain intact, others are crushed into pieces upon impact. You sit there in disbelieve for a while thinking- I need to get up, should I get up, do I salvage what I can before I stand up and are there more pieces that can fall upon me. And as you lie there watching the pieces of your life crash down before you, lying on the ground disoriented from the blow you took mentally and emotionally before you fell, you think to yourself, can this really be happening to me (again)? Then when you finally do stand up, still in disbelief that this has happened to you, your eyes scour over the pieces of your life and you do not even know where to begin. Do you go down the same road again,? Do you pave a new one? Do you rebuild the same way because obviously the last time around the foundation of your life was not as solid as you assumed it to be? And then- the self pity sets in. The despair sets in and the need to want to just lie back on the ground and not get back up begins to sets in. I mean why stand? It is easier to cushion your landing from such a low place and quite the opposite is true when you stand up and reach for the stars. I mean are the stars ever even reachable anyway? Whoever made up that expression was a stupid jackass…….”Reach for the stars!” Well keep reaching buddy because you are never going to reach them.

Here’s another one- “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again”. Yeah OK- obviously meant to make the losers and failures of the world feel better and under different circumstances it might even do the trick for me. But what happens when you try, and try, and try, and try some more and you still fail? What happens then? What kind of magic phrase is there to make that person feel better? Oh that’s right….. “When life hands you lemons, make lemonade!” There…. I’m so glad I thought of that one because now I feel so much better. And yes, you did just detect a bit of sarcasm in my writing.

I can tell you this- I still feel like crap, but at least I can write, get it out of my system and laugh about it. Lemonade and Stars- who knew they were the keys to a happy, blissful and stress free life? In all seriousness though, if I were not having a heavily laced day of self pity mode, I do read inspirational quotes and believe in them. I even posted one a day on my Facebook page and had a following for a while. I really did it for myself as a way of starting off the day positive, hopeful and knowing that if I worked hard enough, it would eventually happen. Little did I know that I would be helping others along the way.

Every now and then I have a bit of ADD (That is attention deficit disorder). Well I don’t really have ADD, but my mind switches topics with my mood or based on what thoughts come to me as I write. Well, actually now I am having a bit of Alzheimer’s too since I was about to switch topics, hence my need to mention the ADD moments when I forgot what the hell it was that I was about to write next. Dear God, does it get any better than this- jobless, living under someone else’s roof, hopeless, self pity consumed, ADD and Alzheimer’s all in the short span of one morning. What is it that I was going to write next anyway?
Ah yes, it had something to do with my purpose in life. Truth is I am on a quest to find that purpose, to find my direction or true calling in life. I like to write I know that much- beyond that I haven’t a damn clue. Right now I am very much confused, very much questioning everyone and everything in my life?

Do I want to go back to school? Do I care? Should I just take any old thing because obviously nothing better is coming my way or should I hold out for something good…..but what might that actually be? Do I do a job I know I will absolutely hate so I can make some money, support myself and get the hell out of this house or do I take a mediocre job that will come easy to me, but pay crap and then risk living here forever because I will not be earning enough to hack it in the real world? Do I “reach for the stars” or do I “make lemonade”? Do I get up, stay down or continue to fight the good fight? Do I even care at this point? Do I try and stay positive and continue to secretly hope that in time all good things will eventually find their way to me. Or is that taking a dose of a little pill called hopeium (that’s hope-e-um….kind of like opium for those that did not catch on).

Do I continue to look through endless job posting after endless job posting or do I call it a day since I have been through enough emotional turmoil today? I wish I had the answers but I don’t. I mean think about it- if you had all the answers or if you knew of someone who had all the answers, think about how much easier life would be. (By the way, if you have answers or know someone who does, please share with me – it can be our little secret.)

Now for the next ADD moment and bit of confusion. To write about the boyfriend or not? I was contemplating making this a separate entry so I could stay with the “whoa is me” theme here, but what the hell. After all, I did say if I think it, feel it, it happens or if I worry about it you will read about it. I may not know much, but I know I am a girl of my word.

So this weekend was the dreaded weekend to Rhode Island with my family. My mother did in fact end up bringing a friend along with their 3 year old son. First let me tell you he is the most adorable and well behaved 3 year old. If I could, I would steal him and take him home with me. As for my mother’s friend- she is well behaved too, but surprisingly only 30 years old. She is younger than I am so the whole situation was odd to begin with. It makes me wonder just how lonely and desperate my mother is for companionship that she would bring along someone nearly half her age, but that is another story.

The scenario and carpool arrangements were not my ideal, but it was what it was so I figured why not make the best of it. Besides, having a kid around brings joy to me- especially if they are cute and cuddly which this one is. I absolutely love kids and thought that perhaps one day I would have made a good mother, but since that idea may never come to fruition, I just enjoy other people’s kids and the cute little things they do. On a slightly different yet somewhat related topic - I can also tell you this- I can tell a lot about a person and a guy by how they interacts with and react to children. My brother for example, he was playing with the kid, making animal noises and just entertaining the kid. If he ever has a child, I can tell he will be hands on, full of love and be a really good father one day that goes out of his way to do things with his child. As for the boyfriend- well let’s just say that he has no kids, and maybe it should stay that way.

Up to now he had been a keeper but this past weekend I saw a whole new side of him and one I am not so sure I liked. He had zero and I mean zero patience for this child. As a matter of fact- he had zero patience for me, my mother, her friend or anyone else for that matter. Everyone else was laughing, playing and making the best of the situation with the kid. As for the boyfriend- it came off as if the kid were a huge inconvenience and source of annoyance for him. He teeter-totters very much, but I think deep down he wants to have kids- or at least he did. I’m not sure if he has moved past that stage and realizes now that he is no longer in that stage of his life, if the kid reminded him of what he wanted and does not have or if he really has such little patience for kids. I have to say that it was a bit disheartening. My last boyfriend- while a bit of a drunk; was amazing and full of love with his niece and nephew. Even my ex (jackass that he be) was great with kids. My ex excluded because we all know how I feel about him, but when I see a guy that is good with kids, a father that is playing in the park and interacting so well with their child or a dad that is proud of their kids- it melts my heart. I don’t know, maybe because my father was very hands off with his kids, but nonetheless, a guy that is good with kids does it for me every time.

So what happens, I find a guy who is thoughtful, caring and really good with me, but you throw other people in the mix and it throws a monkey wrench in the whole thing. You throw in a cute kid and well, he failed the kiddie test as far as I am concerned. As a matter of fact, this weekend he failed a lot of tests- things I didn’t even know I had been seeking to test, but he failed them and to the point that at one time I was questioning if I even wanted to continue to date someone like that. This weekend I saw the biggest display of selfishness in a person that I have seen in a long, long time. Of course my ex and maybe my father had a piece of that corner carved out, but I think we can add a new person to that section of the block now.

This weekend the boyfriend wanted to do what he wanted to do, he wanted to do things with me and no one else and he did not care who he stressed out, annoyed or made uncomfortable along the way as long as he did not have to deal with my family and the cute cuddly kid. He wanted them out of the car, wanted them to do their own thing, did not want them going where we were going. He was completely non-understanding. Originally we were taking his car which was very nice of him to offer, but when five people, a stroller, luggage and a car seat were not fitting so well in his car, the suggestion had been made by my mother to use my car instead. Truth be told, my car is more roomy, but the transfer of car did not sit well with him. He was pissed off at 6:30am. Maybe he just needed some morning coffee, but as we were making the coffee run he commented to me that my mother was acting like a bitch. I bit my tongue, but are you kidding me- we switch cars and my mother is a bitch to you?

My mother talks, and talks and talks. I have to admit, she is very irritating especially in light of the fact that often times she is like a broken record or has nothing of real value to say. I think she is just lonely and likes to feel heard. So her friend had her ear for the entire ride. Unfortunately, as we were in the same car, you could not help but have to listen to her as well. At first it was cute- if my mother was rambling, he would reach over and put the radio on or turn up the volume slightly in an attempt to drown her out, but by the middle of the day it was blatantly obvious that she grated on his nerves and it was starting to come across that he outright hated her guts. He tried to ditch her a few times, tried valiantly to pawn her off on my brother and instructed me that he did not care- my brother got her on Sunday and I was doing my own thing with him. It got to the point that I told him he was being completely selfish and that I felt like a rag doll being pulled in every possible direction and I would not stand for it.

The next day he was somewhat better but you could see he was PISSED that he had to deal with her again on Sunday. Was it my ideal situation either- No, but it is what it is so you might as well make the most of it. He tried to be a bit better but when I told him we would take my mother, her friend and the kid for a bit and then my brother would come get them and they would go home with my brother instead of us, all the boyfriend was concerned with was when my brother was getting there to relieve him of this burden. At one point I even caught him saying out loud, “This is a test….This is a test of my patience.” I mean is my family that bad?

I think the icing on the cake was when my mother called that she was done with a tour we were taking. She ended up starting ahead of us and my brother was nearby waiting to get her and go home. I was trying to coordinate everything, but the boyfriend took charge. He ran out to find my mother, get her stuff out of the car, take the car seat out and send them on their way. The plan was to give my mother the keys, let her get her stuff into my brother’s car and hopefully by that time we would be done with our portion of the tour and retrieve the keys. Well it turns out my brother told me he was around the corner, but got lost driving around the block. The boyfriend took all the stuff out of the car, asked if they needed anything else and then went in to finish the tour while leaving my mother, her friend and the kids in the parking lot waiting for my brother to come. Keep in mind, my brother is lost, my mom is in a parking lot with luggage and a kid and it was overcast with a chance of rain. When I heard this I was livid beyond belief. If I had not been in the middle of a tour in a place that silence was proper protocol, I probably would have unleashed hell and ripped the boyfriend a new ass hole. Was he that eager to get rid of them that he leaves them in a parking lot? And here lies the fundamental difference between a male and a female or a patient person and an non-patient person or an ass hole and a non- ass hole. (Apparently as I replay the days events, it still bothers me some.)

It took me about a good half hour to 45 minutes to cool down.-Luckily the tour helped contain me but I was pissed something fierce. Afterwards I had words with him and discussed the situation. Part of me thinks he feels bad, but the other part of me wonders. It seems as if he is more concerned with what I think of him than his actions being wrong and inappropriate. In the course of the conversation he made a comment about how after being separated and then divorced he got used to going at a different pace- his own. Well if other people annoy him that much and he has an issue adjusting- maybe he needs to stay single because he clearly can not deal or adequately interact with other people.

When we are alone, he is fine. He has his moments but for the most part we mesh well and have similar enough paces, interests and styles that we work. But he does have a very controlling side to him, a very impatient side to him and for whatever reason, he has trouble interacting with people from what I have observed. When he warms up or gets to know people he is different and tolerable, but when you take him out of his element, put him with people he does not know well or take away his element of control- he does not do well. He becomes awkward for lack of better words. He either gets clingy, obnoxious or anti-social or maybe even lacking in interpersonal skills if you will. I don’t know if he is self conscious, uncomfortable, feels at a loss of control or tries too hard to fit in or not hard enough to fit in. Whatever the reason, I have no clue, but what I do know is that he has no patience. He also is not good with kids or at least from what I have seen and he has serious issues with my mother.

Well I may not be my mother’s biggest fan most days, but you mess with my family and you mess with me. You want to be with me- I mean truly be with me- then you take the good with the bad. You don’t get me but not my family. As far as I am concerned it is a packaged deal. You can’t pick and choose so if you don’t like the way it is bundles, it is not going to change so perhaps you better think twice about whether or not you want to be with me and the bundle that comes along for the ride. You don’t have to date my mother, be her biggest fan, but you do have to be respectful and patient with her. You can’t do that…..well then there is the door. And unless you know my mother for years, you have not earned the right to call her a bitch……only I have earned that right.

I more or less gave the boyfriend the same speech. I told him what I thought was fucked up about the situation and the course of events that had taken place over the past few days. I let him know that I saw a very selfish side of him and did not appreciate being torn between him and various family members. While he thought he was creating less stress for me, he had actually done the complete opposite. It is water under the bridge (for now) and he claims he is sorry, truly sorry and will be better, more patient and he never realized how his actions came across, but from where I stand, a red flag has been raised and I will be watching very, very closely to see if this continues to be an ongoing issue. And make no mistake about it- if the man I thought was a keeper expresses any more impatience to the degree I saw, continues to take issue with my family, tries to pull me around like a rag doll or expresses hatred of kids and lack of respect and concern for the well being and feelings of others, he will quickly be a thing of the past. I took a vow that no dysfunction would be in my life voluntarily after I left my ex and I stick to my word. He brings this dysfunction and I will eliminate it by whatever means necessary.

Well now that I have gone from being a sad, depressed pathetic soul to a protective psycho, I am contemplating calling it a day. I got off my chest what I needed to. My situation is no more improved, but I have cleared my head some. I will go back to my job search and secretly hope that something spectacular will come my way. (Please let some miracle befall my life!)

As for the boyfriend, he knows of this blog. I am not certain he still reads it- or maybe he does and does not tell me. I know that he would be upset to read this, but harsh as it is- I say what I feel and hold nothing back. If I censored my feelings and then my writings, it would not be true to who I am and what I stand for. Will he take this personal and beat himself up over it- yes- probably. It was not my intention to put another down or make them feel bad about themselves but I wonder… is there true merit in what I say or am I just confused and questioning everything and everyone in my life as a result of the current situation and funk that I seem to find myself in? I guess only time will tell, in the meantime, I still remain consumed with sadness, confused and lacking in direction.

Until I write again……..

What happened to my year?

It has been a while and I wasn’t really planning to do this today, but since I am feeling a bit blue, I figure why not give you all an update on my life. Actually I went from blue to laughing at myself- giving you all an update as if I had hundreds of followers. I think I may have only one- a friend of my father’s that I met at the funeral. I really started this just for me. I guess if I don’t tell people about it, it remains on the private side with a few people I know that may peek when they get the chance. Sometimes I wonder about myself- my secret goal in life is to be discovered and write, yet I keep my ramblings top secret. Like everything else in my life- if it is meant to be, it is mean to be.

So……now for the update. I think my last entry had to do with the fundraising walk that I was doing on behalf of the American Liver Foundation and in memory of my father who passed suddenly in January. Well despite people being opposed to it, everyone showed up and it was an enjoyable and successful day. I guess it was too hard for people or too much, too soon so not as many people as I hoped actually got involved in the fundraising aspect of it, but I had about 30 friends and family that came out to support me and the cause. I have to say that some of my friends have been so supportive and helpful throughout this entire process. I am told that normally it rains, but this year it was sunny and warm. I even ended off the day with an unexpected sunburn. After all the fuss, my brother showed up with the biggest and best sign of them all with a big picture of my dad right in the middle. In the photo my father was holding a fish. He loved to fish and while that was the one thing in life that he seemed to enjoy and bring a smile to his face, I have to believe that deep down insidem my father was smiling down upon me, upon all of us that day.

As of the day of the event, the team has raised over $7000. We are waiting to see if there is a corporate sponsorship on the way and I know that additional funds were turned in the day of the event, but when all is said and done, I am anticipating that the team raised over $9,000 that day. A big thank you to my father’s friend Bob Wolf who my dad worked with back in the days when I was a wee little one. He donated an extremely generous $1000.

While the days and even months leading up to the event were extremely stressful and time consuming, I have to say that I was the proudest person that day. For the first time in a long time…maybe ever really, I was proud of myself. I accomplished great things that day and in the days leading up to it. And yes, it was not all my doing, but as the one who initiated things and got a group of friends and family totally 30 people to show up in support – I am extremely pleased and proud of myself. As a first time fundraiser and organizer of this type of event, I feel like I did an awesome job and I am thankful to everyone that participated, got involved and went above and beyond. I had some amazing and extremely helpful people on my side throughout the process. Other teams had raised $15,000 or so and they had been doing this event for years and had teams of 50 plus that had all taken part in the fundraising, so for a first time team that had only a handful of true fundraisers, I would say we kicked ass and I am so proud. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I had purpose, I feel like I accomplished something and I felt that day as if I had earned the right to be proud of who I was and what I had done. I worked hard and I think even my brother saw that. He came up to me and said that I should be proud, I did a good job and he thinks even Dad would have been proud of me. He then went on to say that next year instead of Team Tony’s Ribs-a-Flappin, it was going to be called Team Net’s Whip-a-Crackin. Hey if it raises money for a good cause, I will crack that whip and call the team whatever people want it to be called.

Of course the day would not have been complete without stopping to see my father. On the way home from the walk, I stopped at the cemetery with my mother and my boyfriend. I wore my thumbie that day so while Dad was not there to walk, he was there in spirit. I took photos of a team sign that my cousin made alongside my fathers crypt with some balloons we had used in the parking area for the team to locate us. One of the balloons said “Thank You”. I sent the photos of the days events out to the team along with a message that we had all done such a great thing that day. Lastly, was the photo of my father’s crypt with his name, the reflection of the three of us, the team sign and the balloons saying thank you. Although I often believe my Dad is looking down upon me, I wish he could have been there that day to see all the people that came out in support of the cause..

Moving on to other topics, I can tell you that it has been a crazy time in my life these past few weeks. Today I was walking and I heard a Billy Joel song. That was the music that my father always listened to on the boat. Every time I hear a Billy song, I have to turn it off as it reminds me too much of the times in my life that will be no more. Over Memorial Day weekend, my sister and brother-in-law rented a boat out on Lake Meade in Nevada. Apparently my brother-in-law said something that reminded my sister of a time she was boating with my father and she feel hysterical crying in the middle of the lake. Two days ago my brother was at work fixing cars at Mercedes when a Tech next to him was fixing a problem with someone’s radio. To test it out, he turned the volume way up and it happened to be Billy Joel’s Downeaster Alexa- probably the best boating/ fishing song of them all. We blasted that song towing the boat the entire ride out to Montauk and sang it on the boat as we fished. Two years ago, I went with my Dad to see Billy Joel’s last play at Shea. My father loved that concert. So everytime I hear Billy, I think of my father and get upset. I guess it is kind of hard not to since my brother had the same reaction. When Downeaster Alexa came on- he ran out of the shop and was crying in the bathroom until the song was over.

Well as I started to say, today I was walking when a Billy song came on. Normally I change them since I know what will happens within seconds of one of his songs coming on, but not today. Today I said to myself, “what am I going to do- ignore these songs forever?” So I chose to listen to it. Not even a song I like or that my father liked that much, but nonetheless, within 30 seconds I was walking through the park with tears streaming down my face. I tried to suck it up, but it was too late. You see I am trying so hard not to get into that pity party- whoa is me mentality, but some days I just stop and think- Is this really my life? I mean how can this be happening? How can so many bad things happen to one person in such a short span of time?

For those not in the know- last year I left my husband after a messy and abusive marriage. Simulaneously, I lost my job, had to move and came home to take care of my sick father who passed away less than 5 months ago. I then went on to help my mother who has no clue and never paid a bill in her life. All the while searching and getting frustrated that I was out of work and the prospects did not looks so good. After my father passed, I just needed a break as did my mother so we went away for 4 or 5 days to Antigua to get our heads on straight before getting back to work and life. One day there and I got a call that my sister’s father-in-law had passed and the funeral would be at the same funeral home my father was at two weeks previously.

I started this blog saying that 2010 was going to be my year. Last year was a crap year- good mixed with bad, but mostly bad. This year was going to be the year it all changed. Sometime last year I started looking into the Laws of Attraction and was putting out to the Universe what I wanted out of life. Funny enough, with the exception of my father dying unexpectedly- everything else seemed to be falling into place. I met a new man in January and we have been together ever since. He has his issues as everyone does, but deep down he is a very loving, caring, thoughtful and supportive person. I was looking for work and offers were finally starting to come in. One year to the day of being laid off, I was employed. The commute was exactly what I had hoped for – the Laws of Attraction had put me right were I wanted to be. By April, I knew the man I was with was a keeper and little by little life was finally starting to fall into place. I was still not where I wanted to be, but I would eventually get there. Everyone knew that 2010 was to be my year and I was FINALLY starting to see a tiny glimpse of that rainbow that I had waited years for.

My one year of legal separation was up and I drove down to the lawyers office like a speed demon to sign my paperwork. My months of positive thinking had my divorce going peacefully and with little resistance to from my ex. We I am please to report that he signed the documents and mailed them back to my attorney this week. Of course, I was informed that the courts are backed up and it may take another 3 months to process- well, let’s hope not. It was little by little all starting to come together for me and I was well on my way. Sure my job was not my dream job, but it was a great commute, I was learning a lot and it was a decent paycheck. I was off of cobra and had actual benefits not tied to my ex….what more could I ask for?

Well like I said- it WAS all starting to come together. Over the Memorial Day weekend I had planned a trip before I started working. I had told them in advance that I needed the Friday off prior and would take it unpaid if need be. They assured me it would not be an issue and that I would even have earned a vacation day by that time that I could use. We last Friday I am in the car driving up to Connecticut to meet some friends when I get a call from work. Immediately my heart starts racing. I know they knew I was taking off, I asked, asked again, made sure they new- they did know- the VP even told me to have a good time. So why were they calling me? Was I in trouble for taking off? And why was the VP calling me from the office- he was supposed to be in Maryland for a tradeshow.

Having just gotten a new cell phone and unsure how to work it- I missed the call. I immediately called back and was nervous dialing that I was in serious trouble for not being in the office. Right about now I wish that were the case. The VP said, “I don’t even know how to tell you this….” My heart was racing- I thought he was going to tell me that they were going to let me go but that couldn’t be- I was doing so well- I had just managed to book 3 appointments and was close to closing a deal. As I held the phone white as a ghost, uncertain of what would come next, he said “The company is shutting down effective today. A packet will go out in the mail, but it is a bad scene here right now you don’t even want to come in.” He continued on to say, “I don’t even know what to say to you. Noone prepares you to make a call like this and I am about to fucking throw up right now.”

I was in shock- complete and utter shock. Was this a joke, could this be happening- what is it with me and vacations? Last time there was another funeral and this time I am coming back to no job. I have yet to get the complete story and doubt I ever will but upon talking to a co-worker, he seems to think that the owner bought another payroll company or was involved in some payroll ponzi type scheme. As a payroll, benefits and HR outsourcing firm- it is believed that they took in money from companies to do their payroll and quarterly tax filings and never did so. Someone told me that millions of dollars are missing and they have no idea who took it, someone else told me that the feds shut them down and the owner and a few others are under investigation. I was also told that in addition to millions of funds being missing, the controller who was one of the only people in the company to handle funds had resigned a few days prior. All I know for sure is that I am once again out of a job and not even sure why.

I still went away for the weekend because it was paid for, but I was not in the best mood as you can imagine. When I got home I tried to make heads or tails of the unemployment situation. I was advised that I should continue on my old claim and not file a new one. Having only worked for 8 weeks, I am not certain I would have qualified for a new claim amyway. Regardless, I am on my old claim which is under emergency extended benefits right now. I see they have passed legislation that some people may be entitles to 99 weeks, but still I am very nervous for myself. I have no idea how long these emergency benefits will last or for how long I am entitled to them. I was told I may have to file a new claim in July and I don’t even know if that will be approved.

I went for another walk the other day to clear my head and come up with a game plan. I convinced myself it was not the end of the World, things happen for a reason and I would find something better. I took a chance, I got back to work, bui it was not my dream job anyway and things about the company had been odd from the very start. But how on Earth was I going to explain this. Up to now I had a solid resume and a good reason for being out of work- now my resume is flawed and having worked in the employment industry for 10 years, I know how it goes. I know these are circumstances beyond my control, but you see a resume with a gap of a year between jobs and then a short 2 month stint and you move on to the next person. I can only hope this is head-trash and that others will not see things the way I do.

Hey the situation is what it is so I may as well make the best of it. Yesterday I started contacting people I had connections to following up on some job leads that came in after I started at this last place. I took 5 phone screens yesterday. Four were in the employment/staffing industry. I suppose if worst came to worst, but I am so hoping todo something different. After doing that for 10 years, I need a change. I am good at recruiting, but I need a new challenge, a new skill set to master. . I just need a fresh start. This is like a really bad case of summertime deja vu all over again.

I did, however; take a call from a company I applied to in February for an HR Assistant. Very entry level so it probably pays crap, but it could be my foot in the door and right now anything has to be more than unemployment. They did say though that they are so backlogged that for the first 6-9 months I could be filing papers. Yeah- secretary bitch is not really were I saw my life going at 34. Same old same old or work for no money and live home forever.

Something has to give eventually but as my life seems to be a drama magnet- it does not end there. I got a letter from the companies lawyer the other day stating that noone is eligible for cobra as the company is shutting down. So I spend the afternoon scrambling to figure out my health insurance situation. Of course I never get sick, but just my luck the one time I don’t have coverage some freak accident will happen and I am stuck for life with thousands of dollars in medical bills. And forget about using my flex spend money to pay for any of it. I called to inquire if I get reimbursed or just to keep submitting claims until my funds are depleted. No such luck there either. I get this moron on the phone that tells me “I hate to be the barer of bad news- but with the company shut down, we can not send it back to them so the procedure is to send it to the state.” WTF? For all those not familiar with texting lingo- that is short for What the F*ck? It is my damn money, not a company sponsored or paid for benefit- give me back my damn money……..but no- “sorry maam, it gets turned over to the state.” Is this really happening to me- I mean really?

And since there is never lack of drama, my AC valve in my car got clogged and the inside of my car is blooded. Good thing I knew what the problem was and my brother is a mechanic, but my car is now dismantled with the carpets hanging out to dry. Three days in the 80 degree sun and they are still wet as can be. And all this in the course of a day. Gotta love life.

So you see, as I was walking listening to Billy, this morning, it was kind of hard for me to not think whoa is me and how can this be my life. And with all the dead relatives I have up there now, you think one of them would help me or guide me in the right direction?

About two hours after I lost my job, I saw a sign Psychic Readings – Walk ins Welcome. We had time to kill before check in so as a joke, I commented that maybe the psychic could figure out my life because I sure couldn’t. Well my boyfriend turned the car around and there I was- getting a psychic reading. It started out good. She told me I was a good person, a positive and caring person. However all this goodness and caring got me taken advantage of as people use me for what it is I can do for them. She then told me that I lost someone very close to me and there was many things left unsaid and it happened fast and was not supposed to happen that way. She went on to pick up on my broken heart and issues in the love/ romance department. As a result she said I put up walls and am tired of being hurt. She went on to say I am confused, feel my life is on a timetable and I see others moving on while I am stuck. She told me that I needed to be spiritually healed. Now comes the part where I don’t know if she was truthful or trying to convince me I needed to come back and spend more money with her. She told me that on the inside it was like I was dead- I had negativity and my aura was black. Until I cure that- I would go on to find love, but never keep it. I would always have issues with work and jobs. I forget what else she said, but now I was more depressed and out some money. I was hoping she would tell me something positive in life that I could cling to or that my current situation was only temporary, but no suck luck. Well thank you psychic- thank you for stealing my money, giving me bad news and making me even more depressed and confused about my life.

As for the rest of my week, it goes like this. I had booked a trip in February with my family to go to Rhode Island for the weekend. There is a festival that I had gone to with my ex and got my family involved. Last year we had to cancel because we found out the ex was going, but this year, we all planned to go. I was even looking forward to it- that is until I lost my job and have no way to pay for it. I mean I have some money, but when I dip into my savings to live because unemployment pays crap-I am not a happy person. Every dollar I take from my savings account is one step removed from having my own place one day.

If it were up to me, I would not go at this point, but my mother is super excited and so is my boyfriend who has never been and the rest of the family. To make matters worse, I told my brother I would pay for his room as a birthday gift so now I am stuck paying for two rooms….or maybe three. You see my mother was supposed to go with a friend and they were going to split the room, but it appears her friend can’t go so now my mother is under the impression I am paying for her room as well. I have also laid out the cost for tickets to the festival for everyone which is not a big deal but added all up and with no real income of significance, it is a bigger deal.

Last night my mother decided we will take a car not belonging to her and that we should take the ferry over. When I told her a tank of gas was cheaper than the ferry and I did not have the money for it- she gave me an attitude. I had a job for a while and made money so she does not see what the big deal is about paying for the weekend. Well yeah- I had a job but also had a backlog of bills from when I was not working. Then there was the massage and dinner I treated her to after I finally started working, the $300 I laid out to take her to the city for Mother’s Day, the $400 I had to pay the lawyer to “dump the hump”, my Memorial Day trip I had just paid off and the remaining credit card bill from when we went to Antigua after my father passed……not to mention the regular living expenses and bills I have. Regardless of my finances, for her to assume that I am just going to foot the bill for her for the entire weekend is just complete and utter bullshit. And now because she is feeling like a third wheel or a fifth wheel, she is trying to get anyone to go with her that she can. Her newest victim is someone she knows from work with a 2 year old so now I will be towing around carseats and strollers. I mean don’t get me wrong, I love kids and had hoped to one day have a few of my own, but a strange kid in my car eating and getting food mashed in my carpets…..very uncool. And if they are well behaved great, but I have no clue if I am about to drive around Satan for a weekend.

I suppose that is the least of my troubles, if it gets my mother out of my ass all weekend- great, but I think what really has me annoyed is a comment she made last night. She asked if I was going to town today. When I told her “No”- she said, “well can you?” When I did not answer, she said, “OK when you go town can you drop off my paperwork at work?” I just looked up and said, “Well I guess I have no choice.” At this point she hit me where it hurts. She said in a snotty tone of voice, “Well unlike you, some of us work and someone needs to support the household.” I mean was that really necessary. Like I chose to lose my job for the second time in year. Like I chose to have my life fall apart and live in her house. I know they are just words, but sometimes I don’t think people realize just how much they can hurt someone. I guess maybe I should take my own advice sometimes, but still- that was definitely a low blow.

Well I could write and write and write, but I think I am going to call it a day. My brother just reassembled my car so I think I will go wash the bird crap off of it incase I end up driving tomorrow and then I suppose I should go pack. Before I go I want to say two things- I apologize because I just wrote and posted. I really should proofread, but I am just going to throw this up, hope it makes sense and go back and edit it and be embarrassed a few days from now.

The second thing is a question- maybe more for myself. It is June so technically the year is half over. Is it possible for 2010 to still be my year? Can I turn it around before the stroke of midnight on December 31,2010 or is it too late for me. Maybe I should start aiming to make 2011 my year instead because this one appears to have gotten off in the wrong direction. Such is life I suppose, but that rainbow was sure a pretty one- at least the sneak peek I got to look at for a very brief moment.