Babble, Babble, Babble

I was surprised how long it had been since tuning into the blog-world. I've been riding the roller coaster of life a lot lately, many demands asked of me, many decisions to make and still not quite sure what I'm doing or what I will do. But the clock keeps ticking, I keep breathing, and days just glom together...ah, such is life.

Last night I returned from a trip to Beaufort, South Carolina to see my dad. He'll be 82 on his next birthday, outlived my mother and wants to remarry as soon as his girlfriend and companion is healthy enough to tie the knot. He looks wonderful, if not a bit skinny and, dare I say it, elderly. He used to be this tall, good-looking man, 6'2" Marine with coal black hair and the bluest eyes in the world. Now, what hair he has is white as snow, his ears are almost as big as his head, he's deaf as a post, and I think he's more like 5'10" if he tries really hard. This is the man who taught Superman how to fly...he was supposed to last forever! But he appears to be very happy now, which is exactly what he deserves.

Emotionally, it was very hard being back in Beaufort. Dick went with me, but this was the first time I'd returned since Steve left me. So many memories and so many questions. I realized there is a lot of closure that I will never have and I truly need to move forward and let go completely. So very hard to do sometimes when questions abound. But it is time to move forward.

While in Beaufort, Dick needed to take care of some Pfizer business so I went for a walk, alone. The day was glorious but the heart was heavy and dark. I meandered through the old streets, under great oaks dripping with Spanish moss, finally making my way to St. Helena's Episcopal Church, a lovely structure in the heart of this old town. My mother's family has been a part of that church community for generations and many are buried in the cemetery, in a plot right outside the front door. Mom's ashes were scattered there this winter. I was supposed to attend but was sitting in Dulles Airport which was surrounded by the fog that prevented my plane from leaving. I looked at the names along the edge of the walk, my Uncle Legare, my Uncle Edward, and my mother. I sat down by my grandparent's headstone and cried long and hard, tears for a lost parent whose strength and guidance was lost at a time I needed it the most, tears of dreams shattered and swept in a pile of shards hidden just beneath the surface like dirt under a carpet, tears of a child that still exists deep within the soul of a woman. I laid in the cemetery and cried long and hard and then gave thanks to God that no one came along to see this emotional display as they probably would've called the authorities. And I walked away with swollen eyes and a killer headache as well as the confidence of knowing that I would survive, just as my ancestors before me.

My parent's house looks wonderful, lots of changes in it, furniture moved, pictures hanging where they weren't hanging before, new carpet, etc. It looks better than when Mom was alive (sorry Sarah but it does). It was difficult walking around and making another list of things I want. I HATE doing that. Shoot, I hate making decisions period, but I truly feel that something should be given, even in death, because it is a gift. I hate picking out my own gifts! It doesn't mean as much and makes me feel as though I am not important enough to give it some personal thought by the person bestowing the gift. Plus, it has been made clear that my sisters don't believe I deserve much of anything because I haven't been a "good daughter", but that's another blog completely. I did tell Daddy that I didn't want or need anything but he didn't like that answer at all and told me to make a list "god dammit", so I'm still making a list, three days later, I am still making a list. Is it too early to begin drinking?

I called Joe and Charlene, my ex-in laws, before I left, right before I left. No one was home so I left a message. In all honesty, I'm not sure I'm ready to see them in a place so familiar to me. I think it's best we see each other on unfamiliar territory. I love them both dearly, but still feel the slight sting of abandonment where the families are concerned. Something I continue to deal with but I am bound and determined to tackle. Joe called whilst I was at the Savannah airport and said how he wished we had met for lunch as they would love to meet Dick. They are probably extremely happy that I am "moving on" as their son barely allowed the ink to dry on the divorce papers before he tied the knot again. I think he may have waited 6 months, but I can't be sure.

So now I'm home with so much that needs to be accomplished in a very short period of time, yes that next chapter is soon to begin. The closing on the inn is drawing near and I keep my fingers crossed that nothing will cause this one to fall through at the last minute. Decisions as to what to do with this place will need to be made, where my daughter will live preys on my thoughts as well as the dilemma of continued education for a son who frittered away his high school days so much that even a college/university that accepts those who see lightening and hear thunder won't have anything to do with him. And then there is the money issue...or lack thereof, as the kids and I try to pay for college, applying for financial aid every semester, filling out student loan applications and scholarship applications every six months, etc. etc. etc....but that's another blog as well. (So many blogs...so little time.)

I need to do laundry, pay some bills, figure out finances, etc...but it's a beautiful day. I think I'll sit outside instead, maybe power wash the back porch. It's funny, that's not on my list of things to do, but it sounds more inviting than what is there...so until next time, I'm going outside to do something constructively exhausting.