Bob

  I wish I wasn't writing this. I wish you were still here. But, you aren't and this is the only way to talk to you. 

  You're boy is doing well. You'd be so proud of him. He's done remarkably well this past year. His resilience is admirable. He has breakdowns, of course. I hold him and cry with him. Everyday, he asks me to tell him a story about me and you before he was born. I have so many funny stories. When I think of those times, I smile. 

  Your mom told me she'll never get over your loss. I told her that I understand. How could she? You were a perfect son. Your sisters are so strong. It's been so hard on them. I think Nikki cries everyday and it breaks all of our hearts. You meant so much to so many people. 

  For a long time, I felt guilt. You were the far better parent. The bond you and Viggo had was so strong. I felt guilt about mourning you, like I didn't have the right. Our relationship got so complicated. But, then I realized you were such a huge part of my life and I had every right to mourn. You were every part of my adult life. We loved each other so much, for so long.

You were my husband. 

  As you know, I'm not one to necessarily believe in the afterlife. But, when you passed, I saw signs from you. Your sisters say you communicate through music, which is so true. One day at work, I walked into our receiving room. The radio was on and I was thinking of you. The next song was Travis "Flowers in the Window", which played as we walked down the aisle after we were married. I hear songs, out of the blue, all the time, that were special to us and I know you are there. The auditorium was packed at Viggo's Christmas pageant, yet the chair beside me was never filled. You were there. You've taken such good care of us. We have a great apartment and V loves living in Pittsburgh. He's happy. You know, I'm not the best mom, but somehow, it's working. We're so close. And, you'd be so amazed at this boy. His report cards are good. He's kept his promise. He's such an amazing child. We did a good job. 

  I dream of you every night, without fail. In most dreams, we're still together and my grandparents are still alive. Happier times. 

  We love you and miss you. We talk about you everyday. We laugh at stories, and sometimes we cry. You're forever in our hearts and I know you're watching over us. You were the best man I've ever known. 

Tech support

  Our computer recently died. Not a huge surprise. It was old. It's time had come. We only use it for goofy Internet searches, so I bought the boy a tablet. He likes to go onto YouTube and watch videos of people making modifications to Legos and Transformers using sharpies. It was priceless when he said, "Mom, these people are adults, but they're playing with toys." I replied with "I know. They probably live in their mom's basement. Don't become one of them."
  Technology is great, sometimes amazing. Upon setting up this tablet, it synced up pictures I had saved at some point, somewhere. Of course, one being of Jon Hamm's crotch. Specifically his bulge. Jon Hamm likes to hit the town sans underwear. I know this because of the internet. I think there's a Tumblr dedicated to "little Hamm". So, one of these images was saved to some cloud and then downloaded onto his tablet. He hasn't explored all the components of his tablet, thank goodness. The problem is, I can't figure out how to delete it. I'm not tech savvy, but, by no means am I an idiot. However, I cannot find an option to delete pictures. It also downloaded a pic of me and an ex. That one needs to go away, too. We look very happy. While I look upon little Hamm with love, the same can't be said for the ex. As much as I enjoy a celebrity's exact outline of genitals in his pants, it's not something that needs to be on my child's tablet. Also, that thing is huge. He doesn't need to suffer penis envy this early in life. Quite honestly, I'm surprised that was the only salacious pic to show up. I've had many unsolicited junk pics sent to me. My girl friends can attest to this. Guys, just know that if you send one, at least 10 other girls are seeing it and giggling. While the child is away, I'm going to diligently research how to remove this pic. Let's hope I don't have to call tech support.

The force is not with me

  If you're wondering what online dating is like, just take a look at the attached picture. It pretty much sums it up. I would say 90% of the people who contact me are people I would never date or engage in any fashion. This is not to be snobbish. I'm not saying I'm better than anyone, but these fellas are not in my wheelhouse. Some write very nice messages. But, I know what I want, or more of what I don't want. A man dressed as Darth Vader is not what I want. That's not to say that I don't get responses by attractive men who have things in common with me. I do. But, they're usually one of two types. They're either looking for a hook-up or they flake out when you want to meet them. I've been talking to one guy for months and he flakes out every time I suggest meeting up. I officially gave up on him. What's the point? It's like having a strange form of pen pal.
  I did have one date recently, but I'm sure it was a fluke. He was handsome, funny, cool. We discussed Hemingway, Kerouac and writing in general. It was a great date. So, I hold out 0% hope that there will be another one. I just can't have nice things. He'll flake. They all do. To say I'm jaded, at this point, is an understatement. I'm not even desiring that much. I just want a man to hang out with once in a while. The Russian was always concerned with marriage, saying he never wanted to be married. First, I would tell him that my experience was a great one. Then, I would remind him that I don't think I ever want to get married again. It was a moot point. Regardless, it was one of his focal points in our mutual breakup. I'm perfectly happy to "live in sin" or just hang out out whenever. I just want to kiss, snuggle and watch Netflix.
  Maybe there are too many options. Choosing a potential mate becomes very dismissive. Some people get too specific. I had one guy message me, asking if I was dominant. He said it was essential in his relationships. It made me think about arranged marriages. Those people didn't have a choice. The man couldn't demand a woman be dominant. He was probably thankful if she was the least bit attractive. I have very few stipulations-no guns, Nascar hats or extreme obesity in the profile pictures. Sadly, that cuts out about half of my options. About 20 times a day, I wonder why I'm on any of these sites and consider deleting my profiles.

Sometimes you need to be called a babe

  Let me tell you how unattractive I feel lately. I've been in the same clothes for two days. These are the clothes I sleep in. I'm reaching a pathetic state. The other day, I shaved but only because I was going to the doctor. In case I had to disrobe at all, I didn't want anyone to be horrified at the sight of the hair protruding from under my arms or my sasquatch like legs. I didn't have to undress, but I did find out I most likely have kidney stones. Here, I was hoping I just had a backache and a urinary tract infection. When I questioned the doctor, he laughed and said "Oh, it's definitely your kidney", you know, because it's a laugh riot.
  It's also the worst winter I can recall. Of course, I live in a place on a huge hill with a ton of steps and I have to shovel. My downstairs neighbor and I take turns. She's young and full of energy. I shovel slower and less efficiently than my elderly neighbor. Maybe because I adopt a Groucho Marx stance as I shovel. That's why I was hoping I just had a backache. When it's not snowing, the temperature is reaching below negative degrees. At this rate, I may as well live in Iceland. There's probably better dating opportunities there anyway.
  Speaking of- there's nothing to speak of in the dating life. I have unsuccessfully tried for a third date with this one guy. We had two great ones and we get along famously. But, he's flaked out three times for the third date. The third time is not a charm. The other day, he told me he's trying to get himself together before he "brings someone else into his life". I completely respect that, however, I think it's a death note to this whole thing. It's a shame. We had chemistry and really got each other.
  I joined another dating site, more for something to do rather than truly expecting anything out of it. On the bright side, they sent an email saying that I was one of the most attractive people on the site due to clicks to my profile and reactions in their quickmatch. Great. There are a couple of good matches on there, but, I really don't hold out hope. I will say, though, that when I'm feeling down, it's nice to read a funny/complimentary message. One guy wrote that he's "never done anything like this before, but you're a babe, so I'm trying", suggesting a hook up. While I'm vehemently opposed to the idea, it was nice to be called a babe when I'm feeling gross. I'm not even sure if I'm ready to bring a man into my life. I devote my attention to my kid and I feel even that's not enough. So, if something happens, it happens. Honestly, I'm ok. It's nice to hear some compliments and be doted on. I'll take that. That never gets old.

What a night

  We had a kind of harrowing experience tonight. We were at home, relaxing on the couch. Our kitty was by the window, laying on the radiator. Suddenly, she fell over backwards, wedging herself between the wall and the radiator. It's such a tiny space that I'm baffled as to how she even got stuck there in the first place. And, she was really stuck. I quickly ran and turned the heat down. Not only was she wedged into this tiny space, I was afraid she was going to get burned by the heat. This atrocious crying started coming from her, which made Viggo panic and start crying. In the past, Bob was always the calm one. Now, I have to be the calm one. Secretly, I was totally losing my shit, but I had to calm him and the cat down. "It's ok, it's ok" was a mantra I repeated in a sing-song voice to both of them. I didn't know if or how I was going to get her out of there. I had visions of having to call the fire department, but there wasn't time. Frantically, I pulled her little arms up while Viggo pushed up her bottom half with his hockey stick. It took a few tries, but I got her out. Poor V cried so hard out of relief. I felt for him so much. It made me think of the panic and fear he must've felt when he saw his dad die. You're helplessly watching something you love suffering. It breaks my heart that he ever saw that. He's bothered by the kitty's cries, so you can imagine what else is inside his head. 

  He has thanked me countless times for "saving her life" tonight. I told him we did it together. I constantly doubt whether I'm a good mother or not. But, tonight I realized I am capable of thinking calmly in an emergency and getting things under control. I took care of this crazy cat and this boy who means more than anything to me. That counts for something. It's a crazy, silly thing that happened but it scared the shit out of me. The bad things that occur are good for the aspect of making you appreciate the little things. 

The last boob panic of 2014

  The boy is staying with the family for his Christmas vacation. He can play with his cousins and enjoy his vacation. I decided it's a good time to watch R rated movies, eat Indian food, and drink wine. For the past two nights, I drink a glass of wine, get drunk from one glass, take a wine nap and then cry because I miss my child. So, having a real blast. V asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I told him a boyfriend. I think Santa heard me, but in his old age, got it wrong. Instead of a boyfriend, I got texts from an ex wanting to get back together. Because my life needs more complications.
  Last night, during my bath, I noticed my left boob seemed extra heavy. My boobs have been sore for the past week. I took it all in stride because my period just ended. If you're thinking this is TMI, you should know that's my jam by now. Also, for anyone thinking it's a pregnancy, shut it. I can't even remember what sex is like at this point. It's probably the only time I've been relieved I haven't had sex in so long because I could rule that out.
  Like most women, I have one bigger breast, my left one, also known as the bad one. It's the one that had the lump and the biopsy. Most recently, it had another lump, also benign. Last night, I noticed it's almost twice the size of the other one. Straight panic set in. Why is this boob so much bigger?! My first thought is, great, I have to go to a doctor and explain that I need my boob looked at because it's bigger. This is after my last doctor visit where I couldn't poop. This man is going to think I have issues. I really need to see a gyno. I haven't seen one since the golden child was born. I know, this is horrendous. It's the appointment all women hate to make. Someone is all up in your lady business and it's strictly clinical. My last doctor knew I worked at a bookstore and always asked book questions while she was down there. "So, what's the newest John Grisham?" I don't want to talk while you're pinching something inside my inner sanctum. I tend to giggle during the breast exam, too. It's a whole weird scene. Not something I'm anxious to experience again soon. 
  I'm not even sure I'm not imagining it all. Maybe it's always like this. I felt the immediate need to text every ex and ask if they remember the difference in my boobs, but felt that wasn't appropriate. They might remember, though! One ex did drunk text me recently and tell me they were the best he's ever seen. He might be some help. I feel he may think he needs a fresh examination, which isn't going to happen. This is definitely something I would've asked Bob. He would've been reassuring about it, too. Can't ask the Russian. It's the height of complication with him right now.

  I'm thinking and hoping it's just hormones. I want it to deflate like a Macy's balloon after Thanksgiving. 

The holidays

  I've heard a statistic that the holidays of Thanksgiving through Christmas are statistically high for depression. It makes sense. It's a time of family gatherings and if you've lost any family or don't have close ties, it makes you sad. So many great people were lost to us this year. I had a high school friend who lost his son, another who lost her father. My sister in law's best friend lost her dad. Just recently, my niece lost her stepmom. She was a wife, and mother to a young boy. And the Flemings lost Bob. These people were all around last year for these days and now they're gone. Thanksgiving was hard for me. I felt so guilty for being with Bob's family. He should have been there. I love them all so much and being with them is one of the few things that makes me happy. But, my being there meant he wasn't. It was hard to shake. I mean, I've felt that way since his death. It should have been me. He was the better parent. He had so many people who loved him so much. Why was such a loved man taken? His family is so wonderful to me. They treat me better than my own. I'm so happy to be reconnected with them. But, I feel the guilt.
  I haven't really dealt with his passing fully. I feel like it isn't right to grieve in a weird way. We were still separated when he died. He had a girlfriend and a new life. My mind doesn't know where to file any of these feelings that I have. It hits me at odd times, most likely because it's very unresolved. I left the grocery store in tears one day because they were playing Toto's "Africa". Bob and Viggo used to love that song and sing it together.How silly is that? The hardest was the night before Viggo's Christmas program. I remembered how, every year, Bob and I would sit together. We'd laugh and joke and catch up with each other. Even though we separated, we stayed cordial and friendly. This was my first year without that. I would sit alone, cheering on our boy. I felt anger and grief all in one almost undefinable emotion. Once again, I felt it wasn't right that he was missing and I was there. It's just such bullshit. It doesn't make sense.
  The next morning, I sat in the packed auditorium. Beside me was an empty seat that, miraculously, never filled. Instead of sadness, I felt like he was there. When Viggo saw me in the crowd, a huge smile spread across his face. Of course, he was a total ham onstage. Neither of us felt the absence of his father. Instead, we felt the presence of each other.
  I don't think you ever heal from someone's death as much as you scar over.