Back to the grind, for now...

Can't help but to think of the little things that added up to make me the person that I am today. Some of those little things seemed really inconsequential at the time, but now seem to have really impacted my life.

Cutting my hair before going on a trip to Europe seemed to make sense so that getting ready for the day would be easier... It turned into the beginning of my move from curly to straight hair... a decision I have yet to regret... a bit more "granola" I guess, and a lot happier...

Getting into a fender bender a few days before my 3 year anniversary with my ex... which led me to the hospital, a CT scan, a neck brace and a no work and no exercise or strenuous physical activity... that led to a fight with my boyfriend... which led to a final breakup... which led to a whole new beginning in my life...

A chance meeting in a Newport Creamery led me to the love of my life... after having told his friend that I'd never date a guy younger than me just a week before, we ran into each other and I was immediately head over heels in love with this guy I'd just met... Never thought "going out to grab some ice cream" would have ended up in such a way...

Then, the stupid fight about household chores... we'd been married almost a year, I got mad, left for a few hours and came back with a new tattoo... the makeup sex was great, and that encounter led to the birth of our beautiful son...

Each of these little things changed me, though they seemed fairly insignificant at the time... I look forward to more of these "little things, so that I might find whatever it is that I might be missing, and move forward toward a better life, and a better me...

living dead girl...

I heard this song as I drunkenly danced my tail off in an effort to clear my head after the week from hell... I am not sure why this stuck in my head so vividly, but I just felt overwhelmingly energetic when I heard this song kick in... It was an odd segue, from Gwen Stefani's Holla Back Girl and it's insanely infectious beat that makes you want to bounce seamlessly into Rob Zombie's living dead girl and it's dark deep angry tones... yet it's when Living Dead Girl starts that I get the energy to dance like a nut (including up on a podium) and just completely let go... maybe it was the 2 shots of jager that preceded the song, who knows, but I had the energy of the duracell bunny...

I spent the night drinking and dancing with Ashley and Pudge, well just dancing with Ashley since Pudge just laughs at me when I try to get him to dance... It's amazing how a random night out can be so strange and so therapeutic... I had a great time out, even though I know that I was just trying to get stuff out of my head...

My grandmother passed away on Thursday morning, after a very long battle with a number of illnesses that finally just ravaged her body... I feel really awful about the fact that my grandmother died, but strangely relieved on a number of levels... My grandmother was an interesting character, to say the least, but her life certainly had been no picnic... I realized recently that I know very little about what she really endured in life, but the things that I have learned have made me believe that maybe she really is in a better place... I won't go into much detail, as I just don't have the energy right now, but I just hope and pray that there really is a "better place" because she deserves eternal peace... Besides her suffering, I am relieved that my own mother will hopefully find some peace as well... she's been caring for my grandmother for many years, whether due to mental or physical illness... my mother always took the time to be there for her mom... When the time came to decide whether or not to continue life support, it was my mother who gave my grandmother every chance to recover... maybe out of a sense of obligation or maybe just love, but in the end i just hope that my mother can get over the guilt that I know that she's feeling for having finally agreed that the end was inevitable and a vent was no longer the right choice for my grandmother...

Going to get some sleep, sure to write more about this soon... just don't know when I'll be ready...

I'm at my best when I'm at my worst...

Cursive has a way of expressing the things that I want to say, but am not creative enough to come up with on my own...

"Don't wanna live in the now, don't wanna know what I know."

I wonder if there's ever going to be a time that I am good enough for everyone else... I don't think I'll ever be good enough for me...

"Offer it up..."

I cannot tell you the number of times that I heard that phrase uttered from the lips of one of the only people in my entire life that's ever truly loved me, unconditionally... One of the only people that never made me feel bad about anything... It was my grandmother's way of telling me to get over things... That if I just offered the pain up to God, he'd gladly take whatever burden I felt away and fill me with a sense of joy, or at least peace... There was never a sense of disappointment in her voice... I never felt like I had to lie to her, or keep things from her... I knew that no matter what I did, or wanted to do, she'd support my choice, even if it was contrary to her own opinion.

She died in 2004. That was probably the last time that I felt almost whole... I mean, I'll never be whole, that was taken away from me far too long ago...

Far too long...

The past month has been ridiculously frustrating... I swore I wouldn't allow the darkness creep into my life, but I find that the shadows are somehow overtaking what little light was shining through beneath the closed door... even the key hole has been blocked and all that stands before me seems to be a heavy door that's stuck shut and won't budge regardless of how hard I push or pull. Maybe it's just locked and I haven't found the right key yet... I can hope, right?

I think that the constant ups and downs that have accompanied my son's mental health issues have made me realize that I'm less prepared for the daily challenges than I'd like to admit. The newest medications and reward systems appear to be a futile attempt to damper the fire that burns in his brain... He's so intelligent, and has the most logical thought processes most of the time, and then there's a change, a switch... and he completely loses any sense of reality and is reduced to tears and screams that are nearly unintelligible.

He has a tutor/nanny that spends alot of time with our family... Yesterday was his first experience with a real meltdown. He looked like a deer in the headlights when Jonah began to yell and cry and rant about how Josh had lied to him and was lying to me (though he had barely said a word). My son wouldn't stop screaming and crying, even when I stepped in and explained how he was being unreasonable and told him that Josh wasn't lying to him and he needed to calm down. The escalation of his reactions is epic. One moment he's sitting calmly typing the beginning of a letter to his uncle as part of a writing assignment, the next moment his face is nearly purple with anger and he's completely lost any semblance of reason. I have to admit, there was a secret sense of satisfaction when I realized that Josh was witnessing a breakdown. Sometimes I feel as though people think I must be exaggerating the severity of his behavior. Having someone from outside there to say "wow, I've never seen anything like that" made me feel better in a way. I don't know how that makes sense, but for me, it's just a matter of being thankful that I wasn't alone for a change.

After about 20 minutes, Jonah got to a point that I could finally communicate and calm him down some. I sent him to his room to "relax, take a few minutes to breathe or to meditate" and he closed his bedroom door behind him. I explained that what Josh was seeing wasn't all that unusual, and that Jonah would be out in a few minutes and would act as though nothing happened. Sure enough, a few minutes passed and Jonah came out of his room and seemed to be somewhat level headed. Then, for the first time, he looked at me and told me that he wasn't going to do the writing assignment that Josh had suggested and that he was going to write something else because he just didn't want to "do anything Josh said". This was the first time I'd ever seen him "calm" after an explosive episode, but still holding onto the negativity from the incident that sent him over the edge. I was shocked, but agreed that he could write 3 paragraphs of his choice because I didn't want a repeat of the previous half hour. It wasn't so much "giving in" for me, but for him... Watching his emotional turmoil manifest into a mind numbing rage seems counter productive... I just pray for peace, for him...

It's far too late to be writing anymore, but I didn't want to be completely negative, so I want to share something great... Jonah decided that he wanted to participate in the band Far's "Scream-A-Long" project, which is basically a way for people all over the world to participate in a hardcore scream-fest for a song on their new album... Seeing him sitting in front of the webcam and screaming with a purpose was kind of theraputic... seems ok to scream with a purpose... maybe there's always a purpose, just one that I can't recognize?

new month, new resolutions?

So, it's the beginning of a new month... I find that I've recently been a bit more jaded than I've been in the past... I really do not see myself going back down the road that has led me to darkness in the past... I'm choosing the path that leads me to a different end... I don't want to die asking myself the same questions that I've asked so many times in the past...

I'm not sure what's going on with me, I find that simple things are now less simple... I'm beginning to realize that my son's issues are more serious than I would have liked to believe. He got upset tonight because he was "starving"... between 3:30 and 8, he had eaten an individual pizza, an apple, some candy from chuck e cheese, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some graham crackers and an ice cream bar... BUT, when I told him that it was time for bed, he had a complete and total meltdown (similar to the one when he got home from school and couldn't tell me what he wanted to eat as a snack)... He tore his clothes off, threw his blankets and pillows off his bed and started kicking the wall and the wood rails of his bunk bed... when we ignored him, he then began hitting himself in the face over and over again...

Tonight, I actually feared for the first time that if I didn't give in and give him food, I'd end up having to take him to the hospital... This isn't something I am glad to be writing... Just a reminder to myself that I need to reassess where I'm going, and how to get there...

It's been a long week or so, and I'm hoping for some change in the near future... It's gonna take time, seems that's all that I have to look forward to...

(virtual) loss...

I spend far too much of my time online, living in a virtual world... My job has me tied to a computer 5 days/week, and I derive alot of pleasure from my various virtual interactions... But enjoyment is the last thing I took from my most recent discovery... I was on Twitter late last night when I read a post from Jonah Matranga about a man named Pink... Ryan Pink... He was a member of Jonah's virtual world, a message board for fans of his music and all things "Jonah"... I'm not much of a poster there, more of a lurker... but I've been around all Jonah's boards on and off since my friend gave me a Jonah mix CD many years ago... On each and every board, Pink's opinions were clear... his writing showed amazing talent... in almost every post, though, Pink displayed his tortured soul for everyone to see... Jonah's post that brought me back to the board was poignant...

The death of a young dad trying to get clean. Cuts deep and cold. Goodbye, Pink.

I immediately went to the board, and there on the page, plain as day, was word from Pink's brother...

"My name is Matt Pink and I'm Ryan Pink's brother. I know Ryan posts to this board and he considered many of you friends. I dont know how to say this, but I wanted to let you all know that Ryan has passed away. I love and miss him."

I actually had to wake up Nic to talk about it, because I felt a great loss, even though Pink and I had never met... I was sad, and a bit depressed by the thought that such a soul had left the earth so soon...

I wanted to write something last night, but I just couldn't find the right words, or the right outlet... I just recently wrote about some of my experiences with life and death in a blog here, and I was amazed by the fact that within a day or two, I am again faced with the type of loss that has haunted me for years... My own father, my friends, my family, and even perfect strangers... I'd been exposed to death, and the miracle of life, in many different ways and in many different forums... While it may not be someone who I'd been close to, losing Pink touched me deeper than some of those who I've known in the "real" world... Pink's story reminded me so much of one that I'd seen before, and I suppose I always hoped he'd find clarity in all of the madness and simply blossom into the man he was meant to be... I can only hope that he's found peace now...

Nic and I have been together for a long time (11.5 since our first date, and almost 10 years married)... Nic's father faced the some of the same demons as Pink... When Nic and I met, I once asked about his dad and he told me stories about his eccentric personality, and the crazy things he'd do (like showing up unannounced on xmas with presents)... After the experiences he had in Vietnam, he came home and numbed his physical and mental pain with various drugs (initially, they were mostly prescribed by his Dr (like Pink))... Well, when the Dr cut Jonathan off, he self medicated... he met "heroin" and she became the friend on which he could lean when things were particularly difficult... when Nic was 3 or 4 years old, his parents divorced and while he saw his dad occasionally, it was clear that Jonathan was troubled... he relayed the stories about him being homeless and living on the streets in Boston, but Nic never knew what to believe... By the time he was 9 or 10 years old, his father had disappeared completely... No more phone calls, no more random "drop ins"... Nic always believed that his dad did what he could, and fought the demons when he felt strong enough... Once his dad stopped coming around, and no one had heard from him in years, Nic feared that his dad had likely succumbed to a lonely overdose or been killed by another junkie on a bender... He hoped for the best, but always feared the worst...

My best friend's dad was a retired police officer who had some connections in Boston... I asked if he'd check with the people he knew, and whether they had any idea if he was dead or alive... For months he made phone calls and followed up on leads, but there was never good news... One day, we looked for Nic's other family on his dad's side, and found the nursing home where his grandmother lay ill... We visited there, met his aunt and grandmother and had a nice chat... We both saw a card on the table next to the bed... It was from Jonathan, we finally knew for sure that he was still alive... Nic stole the envelope in which the card had been delivered... His aunt had told Nic a few minutes before that she had no idea what type of shape Jonathan was in, and wasn't sure if a letter, a call or a visit were appropriate...

When we returned home, Nic sat down and wrote a long letter to his dad... he sent pictures of us, showing my pregnant belly, and told him that his first grandson would arrive within a few months... Nic then called each of his brothers, and his mom, and gave them the address he'd found... He had no idea whether or not his dad was even at the address anymore, but he felt he should provide the information to anyone that wanted it... A few weeks passed and Nic was deeply depressed... We were expecting a baby in a few months, and Nic felt like he needed to talk to his dad... he wasn't sure why, just that he wanted some interaction, regardless of the outcome... Nic's mom called one day, to say she'd received a letter from his dad, that he was clean and sober and living in a veteran's home in Chelsea Mass, north of Boston... Nic continued to wait, and still no response to his letter...

I woke up one Saturday morning and watched as Nic fought back his frustration and sadness... He sat on the couch with a look of disgust and confusion... I went over to my computer and printed out directions to the return address from the letter... I threw some snacks and drinks into a backpack and told Nic to get in the car... He asked why, and I told him we were going for a ride... As we drove, he saw the directions I'd printed from Yahoo Maps... He asked what I thought I was doing, and I told him that I wasn't going to watch him wallow for another day... We drove for what seemed like forever... I was pulled over on the way there, the cop said I was going 83 in a 55, but he "let me off easy" by writing me up for 15 over... Just my luck...

We weaved through the traffic and finally arrived at the Soldier's Home, which was more like a college campus than a home... I was faced with dozens of buildings and people walking down the street... We had nowhere to start, but I was determined... I got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk... I made the decision that if I had to go into every door, of every building, that's what I would do... Well, I turned around and realized that Nic was still in the car... He told me that he wasn't getting out... that this was a bad idea... I snapped quite curtly at him "I did not just drive for over an hour, six months pregnant, get a speeding ticket, and arrive at our destination to have you tell me that you aren't getting out of the car"... He looked terrified, and I knew why... I didn't care though, I wasn't going to spend another day wondering where his thoughts had wandered... He was questioning his ability to be a good dad, since his dad hadn't been around to show him what to do...

We walked into the door that was closest to where I'd parked the car... it was a giant empty hallway, dark and dilapidated... It felt as though I was in an old movie... the walls were off white, there was flourescent lighting lining the halls and there was just an overall institutional look... There was not a single soul in the long hallway... I felt a little defeated, and Nic said we should just go... But I just turned around and stood on the stoop of the doorway where we'd just explored... In the distance I could see a group of people standing around chatting... There was a man with a loud Hawaiian shirt on... I pointed him out and said "that must be your dad, he dresses just like Moose" (Moose is one of Nic's older brothers)... We had a chuckle and walked toward the group... The man with the Hawaiian shirt turned to walk toward us and I started to say "excuse me..." but I saw this look that I can't explain... Nic was next to me, with this insanely wide smirk on his face... I looked closer at the man and saw his eyes, the same eyes that I'd looked into a million times... but they were older, more worn... He just looked at Nic, so intently, and said "Son?"... Nic's smile was infectious... His dad reached out to hug him and turned toward me to pull me into the hug... He said "my daughter"... We'd never met, or spoken, and he was calling me "daughter"... It was completely surreal... I felt as though I was looking in on the scene from a fish eye lens...

We spent hours talking that day... Jonathan relived the story of his years of drug addiction, and his "wake up call"... Apparently, it came when he was smoking heroin with a young man and used to much solvent... when he went to take a hit, there was a flash of fire in his face that made him question what he was doing... He walked to a local VA hospital and asked for help... They told him that if he was really ready, that they'd help him if he came in weekly for a year and tested drug free... He went back to the homeless shelter that night and committed to his choice... He went back every week for testing, and once he'd reached the year, they gave him a bed in the Soldier's Home... They gave him a place to live (not much bigger than a prison cell, but it was his)... He had medical and dental services and he was receiving counselling to deal with his long term battle with his mental health... He told Nic that while speaking to his therapist, he had decided a few weeks earlier that he was ready to contact his kids... When he arrived back at the Soldier's Home, the letter from Nic was waiting for him... He said that it was shocking and the reason he didn't write back yet was because he was afraid Nic would think he was crazy... He felt he needed time to compose something special and the time just hadn't arrived yet...

From that day on, Nic and I visited Jonathan regularly... He was so warm and welcoming... His excitement for the arrival of his grandson was absolutely intoxicating... He was like a giddy teenager when he'd pat my belly and tell anyone who passed by that I was carrying his grandson...

When Jonah arrived, Jonathan sent a card... It said "Hey diddle diddle, who's brand new and little"... a moon and cow adorned the front with stars in the sky... Inside, he wrote a note to Jonah... "Tell your mom and dad to hurry up and visit, I can't wait to see you. I can't wait til I can buy you ice cream"...

We visited Jonathan regularly and he was more proud than I could have ever imagined... He carried Jonah around the Soldier's Home campus and showed him to everyone he knew, and anyone who would listen... He spoke to Jonah as though he was an adult, and whispered secrets into his ear... Jonathan loved us all, without any exception and without an ounce of judgement... I learned so much from him in that time...

When Jonah was about 8 months old, we spent a month in Florida, attempting to relocate... Things just didn't feel right... Nic called his dad one day and I will never forget the half of the conversation that I heard... Jonathan had been diagnosed with tonsilar cancer and wanted Nic to know that even though the first dr told him it was a lost cause, another had convinced him he had a reason to fight... Jonathan was beginning radiation therapy in a few days, and he just wanted us to know...

Nic and I arranged to return from Florida, Nic knew he needed to be nearby, regardless of the fact that Jonathan told us not to worry... We arrived in Boston to visit about a week later... Jonathan looked different... his hair was thinner and he had already lost teeth from the radiation therapy... the sparkle in his eye was still there, and more evident when he saw baby Jonah... He scooped him up and we walked to a "lounge" that had an ice cream vending machine and a pool table... Jonathan looked at me and asked "can we share an ice cream"? I agreed and it was as though he did a "happy dance"... He was like a little kid in a candy store... He went over to the machine, tossed in some coins and grabbed the ice cream treat from the machine as though it was the last ice cream on earth... He unwrapped the ice cream and held it to jonah's lips... Jonah's eyes were wide with amazement... He'd never had such a sweet treat before and he loved every second of it... Jonathan and Jonah sat on a little couch and shared the rest of the treat and we talked about his treatment and everything else that came to mind... we left the Soldier's Home and felt optimistic... Jonathan told us that no matter what happened, he was happy, truly happy for the first time in his life, and he couldn't ask for much more than that... He had told us that if death came, he would accept it because he'd already done everything he was meant to do... Most important was that he'd fathered 4 boys, all of whom he was so proud... The last item on his "life list" was just checked off, he had been waiting to have ice cream with his grandson... He knew that no matter what happened, he was going to die feeling as though his life's journey had ended well...

Nic picked up the phone to call Jonathan on Father's day... the man who answered on the other end told him that his father was in the hospital, they believed he had a stroke... It was from the radiation, we knew that was a possibility, but never dreamed it would actually happen... We called around for a bit until we got the Dr at Mass General that was caring for Jonathan... He told us that he was recovering from a stroke and couldn't tell us one way or another how things would end... it was a game of hurry up and wait... Nic was able to speak to his dad by phone, we all were, but understanding his speech was a challenge and Jonathan knew that... He told us not to worry, whatever was meant to be was meant to be... A few days later, the Dr called, he wanted us to come to the hospital immediately because Jonathan wasn't doing well and he wasn't sure if he was going to survive the night...

I drove from RI to Boston in record speed... The moon shone so bright that night that I felt as though it were there to light the path we travelled... We arrived at the hospital and the doctor explained the situation, it was time to say goodbye... When we walked into the room where Jonathan lay, with a forced oxygen mask helping him breathe easier, Jonathan seemed gone... Nic leaned over and kissed his father's head... In an instant, something was strange, as Jonathan's eyes opened wide, he pulled at the mask on his face... He was completely coherent for the first time since the stroke... He sat up a bit and looked at each of us intently... The words he spoke made my eyes burn and tears well up... Nic told him that his brother Sparky was trying to catch a bus from Philadelphia, but we had no idea when he'd arrive... Moose and Ben couldn't make the trip, but they sent their love... Jonathan squeezed our hands tight, told us he loved us all, and lay back again... His eyes began to fade, but you could see there was still fight left in him... Nic finally reached Sparky an hour or so later, and he hadn't left philly yet... Nic leaned over and told Jonathan that he wasn't sure when Sparky would arrive... Jonathan was clear headed again and just nodded... His eyes had been fixed, but now they danced a bit... I could see he was thinking about something, but it all remained a mystery... He squeezed our hands once more and closed his eyes...

Nic and I had spent hours by Jonathan's bedside... I knew what was happening, but it didn't feel real... It was as though I could finally feel him let go, and his grip on my hand loosened... his breathing became labored and sporadic... then he was just gone... there was no proverbial "final breathe" to speak of, just a sense of peace... We sat for a bit longer holding his hands, as neither one of us wanted to leave him there... but Jonathan had told us months before "when I am gone, it will only be a body left on the earth... no funeral, no burial... just toss my body into a dumpster... my soul will find it's way to the place it's meant to be"... We held onto the body because it was all that we had to hold... we arranged a funeral through the Soldier's Home, and were able to have him cremated and took some ashes out to the beach he loved with his family and the boys all tossed some of the ashes into the water... another portion of his ashes was committed to the ground at the RI Veteran's Cemetary... We figured that it would be nice to have a place we could go to actually "visit" when we felt like we needed to... Jonathan had a tremendous impact on my life in the short time which we had been a part... Never before had I felt so completely loved by someone who didn't share my genes...

Jonathan was an amazing man, and fought his demons until the very end...


I wish that Pink were still here to fight the good fight... I suppose that my feelings about Pink's untimely end are so strong because he shared of himself so freely... Anyone that can be so open about their personal struggles, and about their lives, is a blessing to all they encounter... The love that he expressed for his son was so abundantly clear in every word he wrote, it made my heart swell...

I just hope that each and every person that was touched by Pink in some way will take a minute to think about what he taught... I know that I value the lessons, whether intentional or not... I know that I'll hug my son a little tighter, and I'll fight my own demons a little harder...

Pink wrote the following in his Myspace interests, which pretty much summed up the way things seemed to go for him...

"Every now and again I try to make something interesting or beautiful or different or new. Sometimes I succeed - most of the time I fail. I didn't fail with my son. I was spot on with that one - kid is a lightning bolt. Kaiden Fox Pink. You'll understand if you ever meet him."

I pray that Pink's family is able to take solace in the words Pink wrote, and the songs that he sang... I know that writing and singing were therapy for him, and he poured his heart into his craft...

I pray that Pink's son will know that his father loved him more than anything in this world...

I pray that Pink has finally found peace...