I'm not as strong as I pretend to be, which, truth be told, is just about all the time.
I am so very tired, all the time. I still haven't been sleeping. Last night, I went to bed a two. Tossed until 4:30. Then dozed here and there. There's so much going on that in my head that my brain just didn't want to shut off.
Friday is the second anniversary of Mom's death. Funny thing to celebrate, but I do it with my grandpa too and others who have gone before me. Grandpa however, didn't hit as hard as Mom. Also, I was a lot younger. Some days, most days, I am okay with it, but as the anniversary loomed on the horizon, not so much. I've become withdrawn and have retreated into my head. It's safe here. Albeit, not very quiet. I wondered to George if Mom really new just how much I love her and how very much she means to me. Which is funny b/c I told her and Dad (and still tell Dad) how very much I love them and how very blessed I am that they accepted me into their family, their home, and their hearts. How they are more my parents than my own parents. Not that I don't love my parents mind you, but there's is a whole different relationship. As I mentioned this to George, about loving Mom. Words of my Julie from a few years ago came back to me. We all know how easy (scary how easy actually) it is to believe when someone says something bad about us. Sure we don't like it, but sometimes we actually believe what is said. The good stuff, yea, that's hard to believe. Anywho, Julie's words were one of the greatest compliments I ever received and I hold on to them as if they were a security blanket ala Linus. She said to me "It is impossible not to be friends with Gina and not know how much she loves you!" That brought me great comfort many times and again last night.
I'm also missing Father Antony. I know, you probably think it's weird, but truthfully, I really don't care. He is my friend, my mentor and my spiritual guide. I knew that confession was going to be hard after he left. It went from being this beautiful sacrament to just something I need to do. Not exactly like a chore, but pretty close to it. I went on Tuesday evening and realized it had been four months. I used to go monthly. I needed the check-in. Heck, I still need the check-in but the last couple times I went I just realized it's not for me. Sure, I'll continue to go b/c I know I need to and it's one of the sacraments but it's more like my heart isn't in it. When I received absolution the other night, I felt nothing. Well, that's not exactly true. I felt cheated. I felt like a number, like cattle. Not intended, I'm sure, but it's how I felt.
Over the weekend I had a bad dream. It wasn't really nightmare status and a part of it I was happy, but then it was just bad and when I awoke I was filled with such sorrow and emptiness. I dreamed that Father Antony was visiting St. Jude. I was there so were lots of people and a high ranking holy person like a bishop or a cardinal. There were people everywhere and I kept trying to make my way to Father Antony. People were stopping to see him, but to also see the bishop/cardinal. Someone stopped me and asked me if I was excited to see the bishop/cardinal and if I knew his name. I said that I wasn't and that I didn't, that while it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, I was more concerned with getting to say 'hello' to my friend, Father Antony. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get to him. I saw him greet his other friends and I'm not sure if he saw me or not (and somewhere in this dream I had a worm in my purse that turned into a frog, I have no idea what that represents so any dream analyst out there have fun with that and feel free to let me know!) but then, he was gone. I didn't get to hug him, to talk with him to tell him I loved him. But, because of Julie, I know that he knows how much I love him still and how much his friendship means to me. I awoke feeling sad and all alone. The Winterlude is coming up soon. One thing I loved about them was seeing Father Antony and after it was over, he would give me his beads from the evening that he wore. I still have them. I loved to go up to my friends and say "I got beads from a Priest! lol" What I do have, other than the beads, is that I have the memory of being the last person he gave communion to here at St. Jude's. That is something that I will carry with me for the rest of my life, and that, brings me comfort. My friend and I sharing our own last supper together.
Getting older really sucks the big one. Everyone I love is leaving me, either dying or moving away. Y'know there's something to be said for not having any friends growing up b/c then you don't miss what you never had. But now, with having friends come into my life for days, weeks, years, hours, whatever the season, it hurts when they leave. It hurts when the friendship was so intense but was just for a few months and I still see them. It's like we digressed into Christmas Card friends. Mom died, Vicky died, Father Antony moved away. My Mema is slipping away. I don't care that 'she's 91 and has lived a long and happy life'. She is mine and what's mine I am intensely protective of.
Life is hard. Life is a balance and God gave me many gifts, however coordination and patience are not two of them. I just want to curl into a ball and cry myself to sleep and sleep for days. As it stands now, I don't sleep. I rest, I nap, but I don't sleep. I worry about things I cannot control, how much longer do I have with Mema, really, only five more years until all the kids are off at college, who is going to die next that I love dearly, when is George going to get a permanent job, when is George going to call the KOC insurance guy? Is my brother ever coming back to the faith, is he ever going to love me again, will I see my Mema before she passes away, will I get pregnant after the last kid leaves the house, do I want to go through all of that again, at my age? Wishing Dad would just move down here lock stock and barrel and then take his trips to Newfoundland from here. That way, he'd never have to be alone. He could live with us, or get himself an apartment. He could come to all the kids functions and dinners on Sunday or everyday! He could get involved with St. Jude's Good Timers, he could bring mom here and have her interred at St. Jude's. But, it's too hot for him here and he has his reasons for not moving down here (George's sister still being in Philly as one of them). And, while I don't like them one little bit, I respect them, because he is my father and I love him.
I miss my sister dearly. The trip this August home to see her and the rest of the family really brought us together. We went from talking a few times a year to talking every two weeks, sometimes every week.
I miss my brother more than I can say. He still hasn't emailed me back, but no news is good news. It's better than him sending me an email telling me to kiss off. I just want to see him. I need to see him. It's this inherent burning deep in my soul that I NEED to see my brother. I NEED to hold him and I NEED to tell him I love him. But I don't know if that day will ever come.
I trust in God with all these and more. But yet, I still worry, b/c as my friends so love to remind me, I am human. I know God has a plan, and I know He has me in the palm of His hand (shout out to chrp 4 and 5!!!!)
Until next time,
PS. George, I spell checked just for you ;p