This week has been full of exams and terrible news. Someone I have gotten close to through work has passed in a house fire. With that and my best friends death date around the corner it’s been a rough week. I find when I am stressed or upset I turn to food. Lately it has been mashed potatoes, French fries, or corn. I don’t know why but that’s what I have been wanting. Ben and Jerrys is always good to. I am just ready for break, thankfully that time has come.
Shane and I have welcomed a new sweet and beautiful addition to our little family. Her name is Koda and she is a husky mix. She has given Broady a run for his money in the active category. She is the sweetest dog and just loves people. Broady and her play at the worst times but they are both onviously happy with each other. Although, she likes to make both of us angry by chewing up everything, she is still a new part of our loving family. I couldn’t be happier to have a dog that bonded with me much like Broady did with Shane.
I am sitting here watching Shane cook wondering why I am allowing this. We both share the responsibility of cooking in the house. I love to bake and he loves to cook. However, tonight is a different story. Twice now he has created a grease fire on the stove. One lasting longer than I would have liked. I have really bad anxiety. So I am sure you can imagine me freaking out and yelling at him. Smoke alarms went off and smoke filled the house. The dogs started barking and the air filled with ash. Yeah, definetly enough worry for me today.
Tuesday November 10th was my brothers birthday. He would have been 17 this year. It marked another year of heartache and wishing he was here. Someone a couple years ago asked me if I ever think about what it would be like if he was here today. But I think about that all the time. What he would look like, talk like, his personality, whether he would be more like me or my sister. My brother didn’t have an easy life; it was full of fighting. He fought everyday just to be a live. He taught me to never give up. Until the day he passed away he was fighting for that breathe, fighting for survival. He changed me in so many ways. I hated my mum after he died. I blamed her in a way. I went through years of therapy. I turned to my best friend for support who eventually committed suicide. There is not a day that goes by without me thinking about my brother. Losing a sibling is not easy. I watched my parents suffer everyday he was fighting. That’s not an easy task. Tuesday, hit me hard. Shane and I drove to his dad’s and twice he had to pull over and hold me as I cried so hard I could see or catch my breathe. We talked about what I think he would be like today if he were here. When he was born I picked out a teddy bear for him on the gift shop with my dad. It was like my birthday present for him. It was just a little panda. I had no idea at the time that panda would hold everything. When my brother passed my parents gave it back to me to always have something of him with me. I miss him everyday. But the heartache will always be with me.
This time of year is not easy for my family. The other day I was going through some papers I had. I found a poem that is famous but a nurse thought it might help my mum during the time of my brother’s passing. It has helped me get through many difficult times so I would like to share it.
Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep
By Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep,
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun of ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain,
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds if circling flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night,
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
I had a customer that came into my work today and we talked about tattoos. He at one point asked if I had any being he could not see any. I told him I did, so he proceeding with asking me what is was and what it meant. To me my tattoo is a conversation piece; I got it to have something of my brother with me forever and all the time. I love when people ask me what it is for rather than assuming they know the answer. I have my brothers footprints and handprints with his name being he passed away. His footprints are small due to being a premie. His death affected me, so I turned it into a piece I will wear proudly forever. While many people find it adorable and think it was a wonderful idea. Some have shared there view on tattoos as being ridiculous. My own grandfather asked me when I first got it when it was going away. Tattoos tell a story. They have a piece of the person in them. They may mean a lot or just a design someone liked but it is still a small part of that person. Tattoos are an expression of the person wearing them. I know my tattoo helped me gain some self-confidence ; others have told me their’s did the same. Everyone has their own opinion on tattoos; I just happen to love them.
“Tattoos have a power and a magic all their own. They decorate the body but they also enhance the soul.” Michelle Delio
As winter is approaching, I can’t help but think of the summer. My other half, Shane, planned a wonderful trip in July to go to Maine for a weekend. It was a fun filled adventure full of good and bad surprises. We spent our time at Old Orchard Beach feeling the sand between our toes. The first night there was the beginning of forever. We both got bored just sitting in the hotel room as it rained outside. So at 10:00 p.m., we were driving back to the beach. The cool breeze from the recent rain was whipping around us. The tide was out leaving that wet, dense sand for us to walk through as we looked for sea shells. The ocean was a beautiful emerald green in the moon light and shells littered the ground. The sound of laughter and yelling grew faint as we walked further down the beach with the pier behind us. The photo as my header is the spot I got my beautiful, shiny diamond ring. He had no idea how to ask me to spend the rest of our lives together but the moment fit us. When I close my eyes and think about that night, I can smell the ocean air and feel the warm water hit my feet as I had tears running down my face. The three day weekend going to the mall, Cape Elizabeth, Kennebunk, Hampton Beach, and every where else in between was full of happiness. Each day held a new adventure, a new place to explore together. The weekend was full of new memories that I will never forget, even when the old, beat up Civic broke down. We even rented a scooter for an hour and explored the area around Old Orchard. As the days get colder, I can’t help but think about going back next year to the cold sand and salty air.