It’s my baby’s birthday today. Although she’s certainly no longer a baby, being that she’s now 32, she is my baby and likely always will.
We are visiting my baby and her family for the weekend to celebrate and bond but by the time this is posted we may be home. In my zeal to organize (consolidate) all my photos I’ve taken almost all photos off my phone and will have to be at my pc to access anything I want to post.
So here she is/was back in the day. I think this was taken in 1981 when she was around 1. Anyone reading any of my past posts will recognize a strong similarity to my grandson, her baby. Ain’t life grand?
Long days, and nights that fly by.
We have hit the road again to see the fam and celebrate a belated Fathers day and my upcoming birthday. I’m pooped and have become quite disillusioned with the time spent driving, but you knew that didn’t you. Be that as it may we will thoroughly enjoy our time and we will also look forward to going home. I certainly will anyway.
I will miss my lil buddy but I will always carry him in my heart.
I have something to say, can’t tell you what it is. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch, a sneeze that lingers just out of reach, a love you can’t connect with. I may be rambling but there are words somewhere inside me that yearn to get out, if I speak (or write) enough I’m bound to find them. I’m not at a loss for words but my words are lost.
This will be my 3rd post in 2 days, not a record I’m sure but I haven’t been this prolific in quite a while. Can’t explain it, just is. Could be because I’m in a good space. I’m spending time with my daughter and family, visiting my 2 week old (today) grandson, and I got the news yesterday that I can retire from my job 3 weeks sooner than originally planned.. All in all a good place to be.
I showed one of my posts to my wife last night, the first time I’ve ever done that. She knows I blog but up until that point I have never told her or anyone else where my blog is, nor it’s name. I’m not ashamed of it but there are posts that may not be received in the manner in which they were intended. Some of my earlier posts were more “venting” in nature and part of my healing, a journal of my journey so to speak.
So I’ve said enough for now, but still really not scratched that itch. It’s still there waiting to resurface, to be dealt with another day. It’s still on the tip of my tongue but just beyond reach. Elusive and teasing me. Waiting…..
Spending lots of time phoning and contacting various services regarding Dads move. I feel not too bad about it now, I’m afraid the chickens are going to come home to roost soon though and whatever stress is lingering out there will alight.
In some ways I find the process of getting him moved interesting and challenging, something to be overcome and whipped into shape. I have a number of helpers and I’ve found (fairly recently) that people are more than willing to help if you ask. I have tried to avail them of that assistance as needed, and it is a weight off my shoulders when it happens. Trying to accomplish all of this within the week we’ve had will be a feat for sure, doing it alone overwhelming.
I slept pretty well last night waking only once around 2 am. Not sure if something woke me or it was some internal switch that came on saying “hey, what’s up?” It could have just been Mo coming to bed. I fell prompty back to sleep though and woke again when the alarm went off at 5.
I do wish I felt energized like I did a few months ago. I did have the desire and energy to do small projects after getting home from work, something I had not had for some time, and haven’t had much of lately to speak of either. Perhaps it’s just that I need to buckle down and do it, could it only be that simple?
I don’t recall if I mentioned this but my daughter Ay has formally announced she is pregnant, it will be 15 weeks this Friday if I count correctly. I’m gunna be a grandpa. I guess technically I am already as my other daughter Tr has children but we don’t know them and I’m not sure if they consider us family still or not. Another saga for another day.
Well today is my 33 year wedding anniversary, hard to believe where the time has gone. And in fact I just learned, rather confirmed, my daughter is pregnant, 13 weeks 1 day to be exact. I’m stoked. It’s like a double whammy, but in a good way. Too cool.
The downside, if there could be such a thing, is that my daughter is quite stressed about the whole deal, her pregnance of course not our anniversary. And because of that she is very sensitive about any communications that take place originating from her mother. Many of these communications come via Facebook, which drives her nuts. Can’t say as I can argue against that, being the Facebook sensitive person I am. Like I’ve said before, Facebook is, or should be, a tool that is used as a tool but far too much open-ness occurs on there for my taste. Why some people insist on posting sh** about their vasectomies or other private stuff I just don’t know. Anyway I’ll try to keep that as my rant and leave it at that. The point is Ay (daugher) doesn’t like it when Mo (my wife) discusses or infers personal stuff on there. Can’t say i disagree.
It’s often interesting to me how the written word, and often other benign media, can have such an impact on ones mood, in this case bringing me to sadness. It’s not only the sadness of loss, which I certainly feel, but the sadness of loves felt and missed.
The book I’m reading, fiction in this case, is Stephen King’s “Duma Key” about a construction magnate who after becoming seriously injured moves to Duma Key in Florida and takes up painting. He produces paintings with an ethereal quality that in the end reflect past events on the Key. The most significant of those is the drownings of twin girls many years in the past. He sees later how that occurrence in the past has the potential to impact his 2 daughters lives in the present. Anyway he often refers to his one daughter in particular and it’s that reference that often brings me to the brink of tears.
It draws the love from me for my daughter Ay, but not drawing it out in the sense that it was not there, certainly not, but taking that overwhelming love and drawing it out to where it’s hard to contain. In the story the man’s daughter expresses her love freely and openly and that is something I yearn for, and miss in my relationship. Where I know Ay loves me she seems to have that trait exhibited by many on my side of the family that makes it difficult for them to express love in the conventional sense. It hurts and brings me sadness to not know her love in that way.
G has often asked me if our loss of Shawn has caused me unresolved emotions like grief, or anger I guess, emotions I can’t or won’t allow or admit to. I have always answered no, but now I wonder if this loss of demonstrated love from Ay is accentuated by Shawns death, as if somehow now I need more reassurance or confirmation. Things that make you go “hmmmm”.