Life on the Lump: Sweet As Sweet-Potato Pie

This blog post is beautiful in every sense of the word. The love, bonds and unabashed honesty are amazing. I relate so much to this woman and her mothering that sometimes, while reading, I giggle and feel a comfort that I am not alone. This world, is a strong woman and I would like to remind her she IS a hero for the simple fact that real heroes are not those who never fall, they are those who fall and always get back up. Definite shout out to AAA, my new friend from across the miles. Have a beautiful life on the lump day. I am happy to see that you are safe ♡

Your friend,
Angry Pumpkin

Exploring Alura

Previous Post

The Beginning Post

Sometimes the lumps I take are as sweet as sugar and the only thing that gets me through the day. Since coming home from the hospital I have been working my tookus off for the good of my family. Five days without a Mom around means a house that needs tidied, clothes that need folded and put away, a kitchen that needs cleaning, and a family that needs over-the-top love and affection. To go along with cooking, grocery shopping, and a much needed rest for Daddy.

I wake up at six am or earlier with a need to start getting things accomplished immediately. Lately my seven year old has been waking at the buttcrack of dawn, ready to hang with Mom and get her innocent jabber on with the parent who has been lost behind the veil of mania for what feels like an eternity. Somewhere…

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HATE IT OR LOVE IT, THE OPINION IS MINE.

Opinion of the day:

I have much aggression to let out right now and am choosing to opinionate on this rather than anything that may get me in trouble in other ways and please feel free to opinionate on my opinion.
I have been reading a few different posts across the old book of faces here and am not so opinionated about the actual causes but rather on the responses I have seen after. I am friends with people from all walks of life and I care about each of them on their own individual merit. I have had to cut ties and I have had to try to reconnect broken/ bent bonds. I have had to learn through mistakes and sometimes years of opinion forming whether someone/thing was right or wrong for me. I have NEVER given up on someone simply because another person said I should. I think that would weaken my integrity in some way. We are all on a journey for our own personal learning and I believe that our souls are all connected. I know that sometimes others opinions hurt because we know inside they are right, most likely about us or our behaviors. Right or wrong, we learn from each step along the way.
Having empathy has bit me in the ass more than once but it has also created a position to allow those I love to have their own thoughts and still accept them for who they are regardless. Who cares if it isnt the same way I would think or do things.
I believe that the extreme political correctness that is all around, is bullshit. I have white friends, mexican friends, indian (yea, not native american but damned indians just like my grandmother) friends, jewish friends (because you know those get counted separate too), black friends (I was made an honorary “nigga” once. Not because of any other reason than the fact that they knew I accepted them as they were and vice versa), years ago in Reno there was the “token” black friend too. I have been hit on by idiots thinking they understood the full encompassment of being a “skinhead”. Some of the best times in life were letting them know that this blue eyed blonde girl isn’t as pure as they seemed to think from the surface.
I have friends that are big, small, smart, not so smartish, rich, poor, different religions and personal beliefs. Ghost believers and bible thumpers. There have been drug addicts and those that have never even smoked a cigarette, gun control and gun liberals. Dog haters, pug lovers, boat rockers and smooth water sailors. WHO CARES? Our differences are what makes things interesting and when the apocalypse hits, each of you will have something to contribute, as will I.
Here is the BIG difference and what is bugging me, BIG TIME!
I am enough of a person to allow you each your opinion and woman enough to defend each of you against someone else’s ignorance and hatred INCLUDING that of my own friends. I totally get that people are fed up with political correctness but that is no reason to negate someone else’s opinion or make someone else feel poorly just to continue your “fuck political correctness” campaign. MAYBE, in the case of extreme defiance or ignorance but not because their opinion of something differs from your own. If I post pictures of the Main Post Office in Reno because I am amazed by the fact that there are swastika tiles on the counters and my jewish friend says wow, I am kind of offended because of what it has come to stand for, I am going to understand that this makes my friend feel bad. When others comment about how the iron cross and swastika meant this and this before the holocaust and are being kind of rude, Im going to say something because yes, it DID mean something positive PRIOR to that horrific event but was so tainted afterwards and YES, maybe it makes my friend think of the 10 family members lost to them in the holocaust which in turn makes what this symbol came to stand for bad to them, SO HAVE SOME DAMNED COMPASSION. Same with the Confederate flag.

Empathy and kindness are key to our survival as a whole, not as individual races. Political correctness or lack thereof is NOT about being right with superior opinions so get the hell over yourselves already. By disrespecting someones individual thought process you are only disrespecting yourself and your personal integrity.

**If you find this happening in your life and don’t quite know how to say these things and not offend your friends in the process, feel free to share this blog post. At the very least it will cause more drama and contention amongst the ranks but MAYBE, they will actually learn something in the process**

Checkout Time was at 11:00am

The last year has been crazy in a not fun way. Heavy and thick with emotion mixed with small doses of regret. Feeling blindsided with a constant barrage of crap that sometimes made the small victories less shiny. I feel, I dont know, I just feel. I just wish, thats all, just wish. I miss him as do the boys. Mom, if you’re stalking somewhat, know that we love you ♡ Nothing new, just a replay for my own satisfaction.

Angry Pumpkin Out Of Control

I woke up the morning of May 17 and had the immediate thought of, “Please don’t die today. It is Z-Fred’s birthday and I don’t know if he could live his life knowing that you left today.” I wasn’t thinking about myself dying. I was thinking about his grandpa. There wasn’t any specific reason other than the day to day knowledge that it was nearing. His time to leave us, that had been creeping in for years, was starting to jog towards us and trust me when I say that apparently death owns pretty good running shoes. I am happy to say that he didn’t leave us that day and instead he spent the day with Z-Fred and they went to my nephews graduation from college. I know it was a proud moment for him and am glad he spent at least part of it with my son. The day…

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“DAMNIT” (I didn’t know what else to call this post)

It’s been a long time. Again, too long. I suck at this writing shit. At least the keeping up with a blog shit. Here is what I am thinking…

GRIEF. It sucks ass. I said it then and I say it now. All is going okay, just cooking dinner or cleaning the house or maybe even actually laughing and then BOOM!! Enter a thought about him and I am instantly in tears, not knowing where to turn, who to tell. Benjamin has told me a couple of times that he has seen him here, always standing by the fridge. I walked in to the boys room one day a couple of weeks ago and it smelled like him. The whole room. Like I had a GLADE plug in with a scented “Dad fresh out of shower with a splash of cologne” plugged in to it. It was crazy. Benjamin said that Grandpa told him that he was here to protect us presumably due to bad things happening around here lately. I agreed and said “probably so”. He also said that he saw Sahara downstairs barking at people and a squirrel. Again, presumably to protect us since that is what she did in life. I can only be grateful for both because I am scared lately.

THE PARANORMAL. There is a nuthouse of activity in this apartment. It seemed to ease for a few days but is kicking back up again. WTF? Why do we attract these things?

POOR CHOICES. Friends or whatever else. I am over it and attempting to reach out to those that I know are true. I need the wagons to circle more than ever.

THE END

Checkout Time was at 11:00am

I woke up the morning of May 17 and had the immediate thought of, “Please don’t die today. It is Z-Fred’s birthday and I don’t know if he could live his life knowing that you left today.” I wasn’t thinking about myself dying. I was thinking about his grandpa. There wasn’t any specific reason other than the day to day knowledge that it was nearing. His time to leave us, that had been creeping in for years, was starting to jog towards us and trust me when I say that apparently death owns pretty good running shoes. I am happy to say that he didn’t leave us that day and instead he spent the day with Z-Fred and they went to my nephews graduation from college. I know it was a proud moment for him and am glad he spent at least part of it with my son. The day my grandma died, I had ditched work and spent a big chunk of it at her house. Maybe the senses kick in. Maybe we have just been lucky. Whichever it is, he stayed for Z-Fred’s birthday. It was the next day that the world started to crash in.

I don’t remember the specific calls or in what order they came, I mostly just remember her words, “He is in the hospital again.” and somewhere mixed in were the words, “This time it is different somehow, I feel it.”. The first part always starts the on edge anxiety of “the wait”, it was the second part that put me on alert. “Different”? Why, why was it different and why is everyone acting so in control? I don’t care if there has been years to “prepare”, ” get used to” or “be ready”. It doesn’t matter really because every time his levels are evened out and he is home another day. Boy, I can be so selfish. This time I knew it was different too because he didn’t want to do it anymore. I can’t blame him really. The indignity of it, the painful tired that lived inside him. I didn’t want him to feel that anymore. That is all a big part of the reason I could barely talk to him anymore. I abandoned him in my desire to protect him. I knew if I said more than a few words at a time that I would lose it because I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to make him worry about me because I couldn’t keep my emotions in check. Weak woman. I cried about losing him before he was even gone and the last thing he needed was to be concerned about me.

Sometime during the early morning hours of the 19th, mom called again and said he had a seizure and they had moved him. Thank the universe that I haven’t slept well in months and was still awake because I wouldn’t have heard my phone if I had been sleeping. I hung up with her and apparently started to ask those I have loved to protect and help him while he packed his bags to go. I don’t really remember doing it very clearly but *poof* there it was a few minutes later. It actually calmed me knowing that he wouldn’t travel alone. Next, I had to get the painting I had started for him (finally) out of my head. I knew I couldn’t paint it fast enough so out came the paper and permanent markers.

It was planned that I would fly up with the boys after school on the 20th. By then he wouldn’t be awake anymore. Just breathing. I had an end of year assembly on Monday the 19th at the boys school and couldn’t stay. I tried. We landed fairly late and were taken to the hospital despite the time. I didn’t want to do this but yes, I wanted to.

The next day was spent with family and a few friends in and out of the room. Gathering, leaving, gathering again. There was a sign hanging on the wall about checking out that we all laughed about and he would have laughed too while giving that look about how screwed up our sense of humor is. You always knew he was amused by that look. While in the room, I was playing with the Ghost Radar app on my phone and talking to him in my head. I was huddled by the window and there was a lot of laughter going on and the things that were popping up on this GR thing just seemed to go along with it. No it did go along with it, I need to quit downplaying it. I know it is “haha funny” to some but I do believe that they can and will let you know that they are there through whatever means they need. I haven’t shared the screenshots I took with anyone and am now thinking maybe I should so they may not think I am so nuts. It had been on for several minutes before it started to do these things and one of the first things it said was “loud” I wondered if I should tell everyone to hush it up. I didn’t, I just stayed in my world where I knew I could make it back home.

On May 22nd, at about 4:30am. My mom called her house to tell us that he was gone. Officially. I was asleep and didn’t hear my phone, of course, so my nephew woke me and told me. I didn’t go down to the hospital at that time. The boys were asleep and I just didn’t want them to know yet. The dog wouldn’t come out from under the bed for hours. It was time to get slapped in the face with emotion and realizations. It was okay to grieve now, he was gone. I haven’t done this grief bullshit in a couple of decades and as I wrote while in the hospital room in my own profound way, “THIS SUCKS ASS”.

Dad,

I just wanted to say that I am sorry for not being stronger. I never wanted you to feel like you were being abandoned. You see and know now, I am sure. I know you were there in Best Buy that day. Obviously, I thought you weren’t when I started to cry like a woman with nobody to walk her down the aisle. It was a stupid laptop purchase and I didn’t realize really until that moment I was blindsided that I have never bought a computer without you and your input. I hope you don’t think it is too weird that I still have your voice mail from 2011. I knew one day that I would need it and it turns out a few others have too. Have to give me props for deciding to share it after coveting it for all these years. Hitting that save button every 21 days while simultaneously hoping that I didn’t hit delete on accident. I know that you were impressed by the way we created that amazing rock “thing” in the backyard for you and that was an incredible idea that Aunt J had for everyone to send you our thoughts. I still can’t imagine not seeing you again but I know that you are keeping watch with the others. Please see what you can do to help the little guys understand, they are hurting. I am hurting. Don’t worry, I will keep Sis close.

Your Daughter,

Angry Pumpkin

 

Talking Jibberish Until Meaning Arrives

 

 

**DISCLAIMER-Herein lies some mumbo jumbo contorted in ways I don’t fully understand. I didn’t until the end. Perfect example of how writing can help you therapeutically.

 

 

Have you ever had a song start at just the very moment that you didn’t need (NEEDED) to hear it? I know that we have touched on this before, at least as far as spirits are concerned, but this is life speaking. The universe smacking you in the face because you can’t (WON’T) see something that you have to in order to put everything right. I cry a lot, I do. Maybe it’s my passion or my over emotional nature. Maybe it’s because I see and feel everything that the people around me do. I absorb. Then when the time comes for me to deal with my shit, I am so stuck trying to wade through everyone else’s emotion that I have taken on, that I can’t find my own and it just brims over. Music speaks to me. I can’t play a chord but damned if it doesn’t. I pulled up Pandora before starting this and since doing so have heard 2 songs that I associate with people who are no longer with us and one of the songs that very much throws me into tears about myself. They have only played 4 songs so far. Oh look, #5 and it fits in, LOLz. Sometimes I feel crazy but I am not. Crazy people don’t think they are crazy. I have a gift. A gift that allows me to know that I have people I love with me right now, just hanging around. Presumably because of the surgery I just had and I wasn’t doing well with it. Without me saying anything to anyone, I have had at least 2 of these spirits confirmed by others who have been here to stay with me.

I took my love and I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
Till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
And can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Oh oh I don’t know, oh I don’t know 

One of these spirits was with me this last weekend at my mom’s house. I saw and felt her there. I figured it was because of other people in the house and not me, but she came home with me. Maybe it is all entwined so that one gets lost in the other. Maybe they are all just waiting for my shit to be straight because they still worry. Grandma was always a bit of a worrier anyways and the day she lay in the hospital, physically with us but gone to grandpa already, I told her that I was okay. That she could go without worry. I was young, had just been hired permanently where I worked, had just bought my 1^st car and had just received my 1^st real credit card in the mail the day before. I was going to be okay so she need not worry anymore. I have proven anything but since. I am the black sheep, the dog chasing her tail until she decides to stop and focus. The brilliant slacker. The poor choice maker. The “it will all work out in my fairytale” skeptic. That is me. I often say that I am a human oxymoron. The “day-dreaming realist”, the “can’t trust anyone romantic”. I have completely veered off subject on this post. Doesn’t surprise me, it has been too long since I wrote anything here. Let’s try to get back on track a bit shall we? I am thinking after I get done ranting on this off course cruise ship that there should be a part 2 since the purpose of all this needs to stand alone, at least I feel it does.

The purpose of all this nonsense I suppose is to scream admission that I do not handle emotion well. Over absorbing from others, maybe, or maybe just lacking the ability to handle some of my own. I know that most of you have already noticed this but prefer to humor me that I am some strong all capable woman who carries everything so well. That is funny as hell…just saying. So to end my avoidance, let’s get down to business. The rest of this and part 2 shall be like walking a tightrope that I am not even sure I should be walking so the parts that need be shall be brief and needed as a part of my story. MY STORY. I do not wish to bring anyone else in to my story that need not be so please forgive me if I over step some boundary that you have laid out.

I spent last weekend at my mom’s house. I needed to take the boys there to see my stepdad (further referred to as my dad) because he is not well and nobody knows the “when” of when he will be “better”. The better of course refers to when he will no longer be in pain. His own kind of pain, which I do not know how physically painful it is but knowing him, the mental part is devastating. It was a long trip considering how short of a time frame it was and frustrating because I was thinking of my surgery when I got back. He is the reason that I thought I saw grandma there. I am not dealing well with all of this and I like to believe that it is because I am not there to bear witness to most of these things happening.  I know I am most likely wrong. I accept that if only internally. I wish many things like…I wish my boys knew more of his early life. I wish he didn’t have to be in pain or confused. I wish that I was but I am not ready to let go.  I wish that I could let you all in to help me but I can’t. Not even you mom and I don’t know why. I wish I knew why the bathroom light is now turned off when I specifically left it on so I wouldn’t be freaked out in the hallway…

My admission is this, the biggie that I just now realized and maybe it’s a break through. When grandpa left us, grandma followed…what if it happens again?

 

So lately, been wondering
Who will be there to take my place
When I’m gone, you’ll need love
To light the shadows on your face

If a greater wave shall fall
And fall upon us all
And between the sand and stone
Could you make it on your own?

If I could, then I would
I’ll go wherever you will go
Way up high or down low
I’ll go wherever you will go

And maybe I’ll find out
A way to make it back someday
To watch you, to guide you
Through the darkest of your days

I know now, just quite how
My life and love might still go on
In your heart, in your mind
I’ll stay with you for all of time

**Insert intermission muzak here**

STELLAR…much of it.

“Meet me in outer space, we could spend the night, watch the earth come up. I’ve grown tired of that place, won’t you come with me, we could start AGAIIIINNNNNNNN….”

As I type this, the song is playing on repeat through the earbuds into the deep, dark and hidden areas of my brain. This song has such an amazing feeling to it and behind it. It has always meant something to me and at one point in my life it meant everything. There is a feeling in the pit of my stomach now, what is it? It’s complicated is what it is. 

I walked away because I had to, for both of us. I know that you understand even if you don’t “understand”. We spoke today of my saying something to the effect of “maybe in our next life”. We both know what I meant. We have found each other over and over before now and I’ve every reason to believe that we will again. It’s been years since we last spoke and you were correct when you said that we were best friends. I thought you were lost to me until next time and I thought I had accepted that. I shouldn’t think so much. I missed you. More than I realized or allowed myself to admit. Thank you for today.

As the song repeats, I feel THAT moment in time that was ours. As tears roll down my face, I wonder about all the why’s again. My last thought is this…what exactly constitutes a “lifetime”?

 

Huge Piece of Humble Pie Al La Mode….PLEASE!

Well of course I deleted the last post. GEEZ-sus, Eyeore and I are starting to sound the same sometimes. So, those of you that were graced with a reading of my last post is…it is ALL absolutely fucking true!! Well, it is/was/will continue to be HOWEVER, as I was crafting my crafty crafts at 3am, I started to think about a woman I know, a friend that has been through hell the last week and my shit is so very insignificant. I am sure many of you knew this post or admission was coming so you just sat back and waited. This is HUMBLE PIE for breakfast. I will not release this woman’s identity and will leave it up to her as to whether she comments or not. My job is to simply speak my mind and heart.

I am sure not all of you heard, I certainly hadn’t until she made a comment regarding a wreath being delivered to her and how she “worked in that office where the shooting was”. Last Tuesday, a man walked in to a urology office in Reno, NV. with a gun. He shot and killed a doctor, injured another doctor and a patient and then took his own life. I am certainly not one to speculate nor pass judgement on this man as I carry too much empathy for the world to start with. I can however pass my meager encouragement on to this friend and maybe it will give her something to hold on to and pass to those she knows. 

My friend, it sounded almost strange in my own head to hear that word, friend, until I started thinking about how much you have been witness to in my life over and despite all the years. Things that most don’t think about regularly anyways. Little things, big things, just anything. I then started to think about what I have seen, heard and been witness to regarding you. The most important are these…

You are an intelligent woman who is charismatic in an occasionally snippy way. That is NOT a bad thing I might add!  I have watched you wrap the big wigs around your finger on occasion. You are kind as a whole. Willing to give of yourself. You are strong. Nobody could have worked “THERE” that long without being so (all that damn pink). Most importantly, in my opinion, you have a wicked sense of humor and fun side that cannot be beat! If nothing else, this is what will keep you together. I have no problem imagining you giving to others and not realizing (at first) that you are healing yourself in the process. It may seem dark at times but like they say, imagine it as the place where those ugly little worm like things go before they emerge as butterflies. 

My thoughts are with you.

WHERE OH WHERE DID THE PUMPKIN QUEEN GO?

Hidey Ho there neighbors. How is everyone? I guess I kind of went MIA for a minute, didn’t I? Oh well, **BOO**, here I am. I have decided that I shall give you the gift of surprise for hanging in there. What does that mean? Well, Cuz J has taught me to write my stuff out and then sit on it overnight so that I don’t blow it too bad HOWEVER, right now, I am free styling it. It will be a surprise to me also. Could go bad, might go stellar. Who knows? Anyone want to start a pool?

Let’s see, hmmmmm, what do I have to catch you up on? I have been a little busy trying to settle back in to the school thing with the boys. I have most likely obtained the VP/Ways and Means PTA position at school, a spot on the School Site Council and I am attending the School Smarts Parents Academy. I have also devoted my Tuesdays to volunteering in both classrooms, one morning, one afternoon. I like to think of it as “Harper Valley” like.

The boys and I took the 2nd half of our vacation to Reno shortly after returning from Oregon. It was a bit of a stressful, emotional journey but one we were supposed to travel.

I am poor. So very poor that I think my head is going to explode every other day from the stress of it. I am so tired of being poor. Over it. Done. I wish it would go away that easy. I sometimes wonder what the lesson is in being continually broke. Any ideas? I am sick of telling my kids “no” constantly. People are all around praying to win the Powerball Lottery, I am just hoping that the universe drops a grand on my coffee table before bending me over again. I am pretty creative though and have started making little tutus for girls of all ages. I am even doing 3 right now for teachers at my aunts school. They are pretty popular and are bringing in a little cash. Better than selling my ass on the corner, right?

I am going on the “Inland Empire Corset Run” next Saturday and am super excited about it! It’s going to be a good time.

 

Desperation is all around me though it seems. I look at the people I love and almost everyone has big shit going on. Everyone is drowning. I am a little awe struck by it actually. How much stuff can actually go all bad in one clutch of people? I suppose I shouldn’t have asked that because it could always be worse I guess. I have realized that the “bad” humans like ADHD and Ankles seem to come out smelling like honeysuckle ( I don’t like the smell of roses) because they have no morals. No standards. They don’t care who they hurt therefore it is easier to stay on top.

 

My depression peaks and then falls. It is dark and lonely in that hole but I just keep talking myself through it until the light shines a little again. Most never even know what’s going on because I keep it to myself for the most part. No need to bring anyone down any further. It is enough to see my friends with long faces and stress lines. Making themselves sick because of it.

I wish I could win Powerball because I could fix a lot of things for some people, a lot of people.

 

Okay, there is my check in and it didn’t turn out very fun. I am somewhat disappointed in my outlook.

Goodnight. 

PEANUTS, PRETZELS AND PESSIMISM

 

Do you know what I am doing? Flying high, way, way HIGH! Why no, no, I don’t mean LSD high. Hell, I don’t even mean “weed card” high. I am talking, 40,000 feet above our mother earth high. I should join the club but as I look around I see nobody I would invite to join with me except maybe the cute male flight attendant but such is my luck that his wife and  two kids happen to be on THIS flight. Bahaha, I wouldn’t do that anyways. Besides I have the kids with me and no sitter **sigh**.

As things 1 and 2 were being served peanuts and pretzels, I sat gazing out the window on the other side of the plane. Oh, before I go any further I want to point out that the seats on the right side of a Southwest plane spell “FED” above each row. Thankfully we are on the “CBA” side so either we are saved from any conspiracy or doomed because the conspiracy on our side couldn’t spell “CIA” right **sigh** (again). Anyways, I am gazing out the window at the clouds or at least the top of them. I don’t believe in G*D, heaven and hell HOWEVER, if I am wrong (IF) then I know that is what heaven looks like. I have always thought that cloud tops from a plane are one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. Today I am running somewhere between “WOW, BEAUTIFULLY AMAZING” and “WOW, WHY DOES EVERYTHING ELSE SEEM TO SUCK”. Polly positive isn’t traveling today, Polly pessimism has stolen her ticket to ride.

Today, today, today…I am glad I didn’t follow the original plan for today. Instead I am flying to Portland and then off to Hood River for the week. Visiting MIL, FIL, Cuz-J, Beckster, and of course my baby Z-fred, who has decided to stay in Oregon to try out life, should keep me occupied for a few days anyways. What you ask am I trying to avoid yet am so preoccupied with? HA! I am not sure many believed me but today, Saturday August 3, 2013 is the day that I was going to marry Dirty Dick to the sounds of “smack my bitch up”. Trust me when I say that I am not entirely sad that I am not throwing that rave because things needed to be different but I AM still messed up that I allowed myself to believe it would and could really happen and be bliss forever **BARF**.

Hello, my name is Ms. Pumpkin, I bitch and I have ample drama, welcome, come in and have a seat while I decide my next move for conquering the world. All I need now are the right shoes.