Is That You?

Last week, I had a spate of losing things and then finding them exactly where they were supposed to be. Freaky to say the least. Most of the stuff was relatively minor -- my new pay card, my wallet, some cash, bank papers; things of that ilk. (The pay card was minor because it had not yet been activated.) The big thing was my teeth.

Through it all, I could hear you nagging, fussing, cussing -- just giving me hell for not keeping better track of my things.
Heck, you (and your mouth and opinion of me) were the reason I made myself learn to be so otganizes. A place for everything and everything in its place.

But what do you do when you've put everything in its place and it disappears then reappears exactly there?

I then had the misfortune -- or maybe good fortune -- to read a list of signs that a loved one could be letting you know they are near. The number one item was the disappearance and reappearance of significant items.

Except that I can't really see you doing that, especially not with my teeth. I even had to work all night one night without them. Just doesn't seem like something you'd do. (Charlie might, but he can go haunt someone else. You can tell him I said so.)

I have mixed feelings about that. I wish you were here; I like the idea if you being near; but I would so much rather think of you being off somewhere, just being. No work, no worries, love and joy and peace -- all that good stuff.
Yeah, I want you to help me with all my little problems but don't want you to kn ow about any of them. Especially not the ones I keep talking over with you.

Yeah,

Well, anyway, if it's you, send me flowers, okay? Like you did when you were first  gone. Please don't hide things from me.
It's hard enough living every day without your help.
Without you.

On My Mind; In My Heart

I've had you on my mind a lot lately. Actively, awfully, achingly on my mind. I suppose it's the weather. The horrible hot humidity that was always so hard on you. (And it's just now the middle of June!)

And having to work and no one to decompress with afterward. Work has been really tough the last three weeks or so. I'm trying to do three people's work -- which is my usual job -- but now I'm having to be at all three parts of the job at exactly the same time! And stay on them. It's just too hard. And I can't do it, but then I go on and do it anyway.

You know.

No luck finding my own place. Who knew it would be so hard. Part of that problem is the working, and the third shift working. I'm not "in place" to get the new newspapers every week, or to make the phone calls bright and early in the business day.
I have lots of family and friends who are trying to help, but they can't help much with the timing thing. That one is all on me.

I think of you when I have a hard time breathing every time I open the drive thru window.
I think of you when I wake up gasping for air because the room is so hot.
I think of you when I have to choose breathing or sleeping. (Or standing, or sweeping, or moving.)
I think of you when I hurt, because I think that you would be unhappy to see me this way.

And then I am glad you are not here to see it, because you deserve your hard won peace.

I thought of you Memorial Day, but I may have been the only person in the entire store who worked all four days of that holiday weekend. I want to take Hailey to your resting place. She has asked about you/it. Just haven't made it  yet.

Rex, I wish you could know how grateful I am that I had you for so long. And for the way you let me be me, even when you couldn't understand where that me-ness was coming from. (I hardly know myself, sometimes.)

It's such a horrible aching loss not having you. Not having that.

I can only hope -- since I can't change anything now -- that I let you be you in the same way. And I hope you know how much love there was for that you.

I miss you.