Monday, March 20, 2017

March 20th

So, if you look back in this blog you'll see how much I love my birthday.  But it isn't always fabulous.  Like today.

Saturday was high energy and I was getting lots done.  Until as I was walking up to Tom's door from the sidewalk, I tripped. I put my hands out and landed on my right side.  The granite step hit right under my armpit and my side.  It took my breath away.

It's slowly getting better, but of course, it gets aggravated when I forget and move a certain way.....or hiccup.....or take a deep breath and heave a big sob because for the first time since 1988, no Frankie.

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Six Months

I've made it six months.  Not a happy milestone.

I am hiding out in Annapolis.  I wonder if that's fair to Tom?

Someone said the other day that now he would always stay young and handsome.  Please... he was always gonna be handsome!

Last Saturday, January 21st would have been Frank's 29th birthday.  I have to keep these things positive for his son.  So I gathered some of his friends and had a party. I know it sounds weird; but it went just as I had hoped.

But I can't be positive today.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Saturday Afternoon

The holidays were tough.  Thank God for my grandson Frankie or I never would have gotten out of bed on Christmas Day.  But I am glad I did because then I spent New Year's with Frankie and Britt and beautiful, smiling Emma.  And it rocked.  I got bonked, spit up on, licked by a dog, fed & changed Emma, answered "Why?" 57 hundred times from Frankie and I loved it.

And January so far has been stressful chaos with the move out of Rockland.

But now I am in Staunton with Tom.  The most pressing questions are "What do you want for dinner?" and "Have you seen my phone?".

Speaking of my phone, last Friday before the snow storm, a small black circle appeared in the lower right hand corner of the glass display.  Everything still worked and I could use it, as long as I could see that part of the screen.  But slowly Saturday, the spot spread.  Sunday nothing was visible.  So Verizon said that it can't be repaired.  I can submit an insurance claim, pay a deductible and get a new phone.  But I will lose stuff.  To be honest, I don't want to lose any text messages or anything Frank might have sent me.  I know it's silly.  But to buy myself time I just had them switch over to an old, old flip phone that I unearthed while packing and moving.  But no contacts.  So if you are my contact, call or text and identify yourself, lol.

But I can live life without a smartphone.  I don't think I could in Boston.....no Uber app on my flip phone. Or "Next Bus" or "MBTA" or "Kindle".  But in Staunton I have Tommy as a driver and there is a nifty little trolley system here that picks me up two or three doors up the street.  In Boston, my dear friend Shema had to sign into my Uber for me and send them my way.  That would get old fast.  So I have time to think about what I want to do.

But for now, no thinking.

Sometimes I wake up and think "What time is it?  What do I have to do? Am I late?"

But the answer is "Who cares!" and I open a book or go back to sleep.

Friday, October 07, 2016

Hanging With Frankie, Jr.

Easily the best part of my life even before I lost Frankie, Sr.  And my biggest consolation.  Every night and every morning I thank God that he is part of my life.

I had a great time in Virginia with Tom and I'll be back there soon enough.....but I missed "Frankie time".

Although he treats me worse than I'd ever let any man!  Today we picked up some deli ham for lunch.  I set him up with his and went to fix mine.  I sat down, he had finished his ham.  He likes things separate - ham on one side, bread to the other side.  So I offered him a bite of my sandwich.  Thank goodness I had cut the sandwich in half; he filched the ham and handed me back the empty roll.  Did I mention the enormous smile on his face?  You better believe I ate my other half pretty quick!

By the way, I am suspended from Facebook.  Some random fraud prevention check?  I had to cover everything on my license except my name, picture and date of birth; then take a picture of it and send it to them.  Well they couldn't see the date of birth.  So I have to enlarge it & resend it so they can be assured I'm not thirteen.

Sigh.

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

First Week In Virginia

It's been good!

Hanging with Tom.  Going through stuff that's here.  Spending time with myself.

And - bonus - I found an old pair of glasses!  I still haven't done anything about the glasses I lost in July.  It was the Monday before Frank passed.  Replacing them dropped so far down the list.  There was a time before I had to stop working that I got a new pair every year.  I had great insurance - thanks Bette - and I just never thought not to.  Then one year I had to switch to bifocals and this pair went in a box.  Cause you know I never throw anything away.  Or at least that used to be the case.  I have had to get more ruthless with that.  Anyway, I was sorting through boxes, looking for stuff to throw away and I found these.  They are not bifocals and they are at least 8 years old.  But I can see distance and go to the movies again!

Tom made fun of the frames, but I assured him that they would have been the height of fashion at the time because Bette picked them out.  I clearly remember stopping at the place in Pembroke with her on our way to Thursday night dinner.  And that gave Tom pause because Bette is always "put together" as opposed to his "thrown together" mother.

I've got another week here.  But I am not sure much more will be accomplished.  Last night was my 8th (out of 14) night on Pomalyst.  It's effect build, so as the 2nd week progresses it's more naps and laying around.  But I'll still spend it with Tom!

Sunday, September 11, 2016

I Guess I Am Full

So full of grief and tears, that I can't tamp it down any more.

Everyday there is something new.  One day it's little Frankie finding a book in a box in my bedroom that Frank bought on how to be a better father.  Another day it's realizing that I have to take Frank's name off of my health care proxy.

And God help the person who aggravates me!

Is it because all the heavy lifting is done?  Making sure the right people knew.  Planning the celebration of life.  Listening to all those people who wanted to talk about Frank.  Taking care of his affairs and possessions.

All that's left is time to think.

Whatever it is, I knew I had to leave Boston.  I needed the opposite of the theme from "Cheers".  I needed a place where nobody knows my name.  So I jumped on line and used all my Amtrak credits to arrange a train out of Boston, down to Staunton.  I need days to sleep and cry without worrying who can hear me and who I might upset.  And I need to make Tommy dinner and listen to what he has to say.

And considering how close I am to smacking the two old people behind me here on Amtrak train 65, I can't get to my hidey-hole in the Shenandoah Valley fast enough. They boarded somewhere in Rhode Island and haven't shut up since.  At one point when I was trying to sleep (I brought pillows), she began reading him news stories off of the Internet.  It was 1:30 in the friggin' morning! And apparently the two foot rests provided at her seat were not to her liking because I looked down at my arm rest (that I had wiped down with antibacterial wipes) and saw her dirty shoe!  I quietly said "For Heaven's Sake" and she pulled it away.  He just whines "Why is the train stopped?" and "The train is moving so fast I can't stir my hot cocoa!"

Thursday, my new least favorite day of the week was also Infusion Day.  I got up early so I could vote - it was Primary Day here in Massachusetts.  Packed.  I don't really need to transport stuff between Boston & Virginia, but I had some stuff I was going to ship down, so I figured I'd put it in suitcases and check them and save the shipping costs on some stuff at least.  Anyway, then it was off to Tufts.  I had my gadgets & a magazine and snacks and water and lunch.  I was prepared. After entering the main lobby, I walked over to a bench to pull my stuff together.  Hitch up my shorts, put my Charlie Card away, sling my backpack.....and I sensed someone moving into my personal space.  A woman about my age asking where her purse was. I told her it wasn't here.  She gestured to my bags and said she left it right there.  I said well it's gone now and I pointed out a guy in uniform "Go talk to that guy."  Then she became a little more insistent telling me she put her purse right there before going into the Au Bon Pain next to us.  "You left your bag and walked away?  That was stupid." Meanwhile, I am proceeding with what I am doing, gathering my stuff.  "Can I look in your bag?"  My head snaps up "No, you can not look in my bag, now get the hell away from me!"  She turns to the guy in the blue uniform (hospital security, BPD, I don't know I haven't replaced my lost glasses) and he turns to walk away. She looks at me surprised "You won't let me look in your bag?"  I just walked away.  I felt good, like I had opened a valve and let a little pressure bleed off when I told her to get the hell away from me.

Thursday, August 25, 2016

I Made It Through Thursday

I don't know how, but I did.

4 weeks.  28 days.  I think I will hate Thursdays for the rest of my life.

All day some part of my brain has been screaming FOUR WEEKS AGO.

But I kept pushing it away because little Frankie has been here since Wednesday evening.

I told someone today that I am still not entirely sure it happened.  Maybe four weeks ago I had a break with reality.  Maybe it was five minutes ago.  Maybe Frank is fine and I am locked up somewhere.

This can't be my life.  People are too stupid.  People are saying the most astonishing things to me.  I go through this a little with the cancer.  People find out I have cancer and they tell me about theirs or their spouse/sibling/wife's nephew's stepmother.  And now people try to tell me about someone in their life struggling with addiction.  Or someone they lost to addiction.

Most of them mean it as a comfort. And it is.

But some want some kind of answer and I want to scream "If I had an answer, my kid wouldn't be DEAD!"

But the most ridiculous one yet was someone who proudly told me that they had not spoken to their addicted loved one in years. What?  I understand that you can't enable.  But you don't withhold your love, your caring, your very presence.  If there is one clear lesson to be learned from Frank and I, it's that you always make sure your children know you love them.  No matter what the circumstances.  You never know.  You could be in my shoes at any minute, for any reason.  I don't understand how this person didn't see my horror.  How it didn't freeze them in their tracks.

So now I work my way through until the next Thursday.  Or not.  Maybe I am sitting in a Geri chair waiting for more meds mashed up in applesauce.