Catharsis

You’ve been here for over a week. You’ve barely had anything to drink, and nothing to eat. I don’t know how you are still breathing. Today, Maureen Daily came in and sang hymns for you that you love. She has such a beautiful voice. I was laying in the pull-out bed and couldn’t sit up. But I was listening the whole time, while mom sang along with her and you seemed to sing along too.

Brad also came by to see you. He’s been such a good friend of yours. It’s hard for him to go to a hospice, because his wife died in one. He is still depressed about that. But you gave Brad the joy and comfort he needed after his wife passed. You were a blessing to him, and I know he appreciates that more than you can know.

Leigh brought your friend, Trudy today as well. I’m not sure how close you guys were, but she said some very kind things to you, and about you. You’ve had so many visitors and phone calls and people that don’t want to see you go.

Grandma, you’ve always been so strong. Relentless even. The doctors said you were going to die six months ago because of liver failure, even though you’re not a drinker. But you came back from that, a miraculous recovery. You were doing so well, walking around, with and without your walker. You even bought a new car! A Subaru of course. I know you’re strong, but grandma, it’s time to let go. Mom and I have been spending the night ever since you entered the hospice. I came home to sleep one night after work. And I had to come home tonight.

I feel bad for leaving mom alone. But I think tonight is the night. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay there. I had to do this for me. I said my goodbyes, and you heard them, I know. But if you go tomorrow, that’s okay too. Easter Sunday. The 31st. Just like G.G. who died on January 31st a year ago. If you’re still there tomorrow, I’ll come. But if you’re not, I know where you’ll be.

I’m so tired. Exhausted. Mom, your only child, has been there with you this whole time. I can only imagine how she’s feeling. I had to call work and let them know I couldn’t come in this morning. I thought you’d be gone by then. But you’re still breathing. We’re thinking the funeral’s going to be on Friday.

Let go Grandma, Please, let go. Go gently into that good night. Don’t rage against the dying of the light. You don’t need to suffer anymore. You don’t need to sustain these worldly problems on your shoulders anymore. Just think of the relief.

I love you, grandma. I’ll be singing for you tomorrow.

-March 31, 2013.

——

Something

What do you do when the anxiety you have for no known reason fills your stomach up to your neck up to your head with an unbearable weight which weighs you down with the sensation of sloth, an inability to move or act and all you can do is just sit there and stare? All you can think about is how anxious you are because that is all you can feel, a mad cycle attached with immense difficulty to escape. Surveillance is a substantial way to be brought out of this. But sometimes writing about it exacerbates the anxiety because of the focus focus focusing the mind on the anxiety, the problem at hand. Yet it does help the understanding of it a little more. “Know thyself.” How does one know thyself. Self. I am my. self. I am me. What am I. Feelings. What I know. How do I know. Why do you care.

 —

vul·ner·a·bil·i·ty:

noun

  1. The quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.
  • Vulnerability is writing
  • Even if the world doesn’t see your words
  • I used to post things to blogs and social media
  • Vulnerable. Sensitive. Personal.
  • Now I don’t post anything unless I am positive it is worthy to be posted.
  • What happened?
  • What makes it worthy… That I think people will like it?
  • If one writes only to make an audience happy, is one really a writer?

Vulnerability scares me. I’m afraid to show people my words. I’m afraid of what they think. Have I put myself on too high of a pedestal? What if I’m not up to par? My words are my vulnerability, a complete expression of me. Maybe I don’t want people to know me. Maybe I like to keep people at a safe distance- not necessarily to keep myself safe from them, but to keep them safe from me.

“Stream-of-consciousness writing a la Jack Kerouac is a meditation tool. Writing about regrets over the past or fears of the future, no.”

Feelings hypnotize unsatisfied ruler of my brain. Please don’t come down here there is really something wrong with my brain. Today, at least. Well, most days. Unconventional, unacceptable as “normal” let me apologize now before you decide to run away. Sometimes I wish I could run away, take a vacation and escape from the pounding confusion, lifting the fog that’s in my head. I used to be afraid to showcase these things, people wouldn’t understand. But still face to face I have to pretend that I belong in this world with these socially acceptable behaviors. I really have no idea what I’m doing.

Patricia Ann Dewey, 73, of Aurora, Colorado, passed away on April 3, 2013.

There are still so many questions. I was told she died of cirrhosis of the liver. Causes of cirrhosis of the liver:

-Chronic alcohol abuse. She never drank.

-Chronic viral hepatitis (hepatitis B, C and D) I think someone told me once she had some form of hepatitis. How did she get this?

-Fat accumulating in the liver (nonalcoholic fatty liver disease) yeah, she was overweight.

-Cystic Fibrosis nope.

-Inherited disorders of sugar metabolism Is this inherited in my family?

-Genetic digestive disorder (Alagille syndrome) ?

-Liver disease caused by your body’s immune system (autoimmune hepatitis) well, duh, but maybe this was the type of hepatitis she had?

Ok, we get the point. Maybe one of these things caused it. Maybe a whole mixture of these things. Maybe something that wasn’t even on this list. I was told that it was also because she took a lot of naproxen, a non-opiate pain killer, like Aleve, after she had a couple falls. Which takes a big hit on the liver. I guess she took a shit ton of this. She didn’t want to get hooked on prescription pain pills. Which I commend her for, but would she still be here if she was a pill junky?

Elements of a lyric essay: Metaphor. Research. Bullet points. Pace. Poeticism. Odd concepts. Fragments. Surprising verb and/or noun-turned-verb (i.e, a noun verbed). (You can totally Chelsey a sentence). Surprising structure. Surprising imagery. Unconventional associations. Juxtoposition. A declarative and/or witty and/or telling title. Subtle humor via wordplay. Quirky way of looking at and addressing the theme(s). At least one paragraph so elusive that even the author isn’t quite sure of what she’s trying to say.

-Chelsey Clammer

Obituary

Patricia Ann Dewey, 73, of Aurora, Colorado, passed away on April 3, 2013. The funeral service will be held at Fairmount Mortuary at 430 South Quebec Street on Wednesday, April 10 at 11:00. Pastor Ray Cook of Colorado Community Church will be officiating. Viewing will be held at Fairmount Mortuary on Tuesday, April 9 from 12:00 to 4:00 pm. Burial will follow the funeral at Fairmount Mortuary.
Patricia was born in Tucson, Arizona on February 26, 1940 to Joseph and Edith Wilson. She graduated from Whittier High School, and continued on to receive an Accounting degree from Metro State in Colorado. Patricia had one brother, Richard, who proceeded her in death in 2006. Karen, Patricia’s daughter, was born in La Mirada, California on March 3, 1966.
In 1972, Patricia and her family moved to Colorado. She worked as a Controller for Fairmount Mortuary for 18 years. She enjoyed playing golf, camping, and painting. Patricia was also actively involved in Eastern Star.  Patricia is survived by her daughter and son in law, Karen and John Faust, as well as two grandchildren, Jordan and Ryan Faust. She is also survived by two nieces, Jamie and Jodi Wilson. Patricia was very active in her church no matter where she lived. Patricia’s kindness, generosity, joy, love, and humor touched everyone she knew, and will be greatly missed by her family and friends.

Is it weird that I wrote this official obituary for her in my time of grieving? Such a complex, deep, wise, strong, and mysterious woman summed up into three paragraphs of un-emotional, formal, dry prose.

About four months after my grandma died, I met Chelsey Clammer in the oddest of circumstances. Not that it was odd that I would meet her at this place, but it was the place that I somehow found myself. Those months after she died were all kind of a blur.

Rewind to the hospice: me sitting at the foot of her bed, while she was going in and out of coherency. All she could really say were slight grumblings and moans; I could tell she wanted to speak so badly, but her body prevented her from forming words. It was just me and her in this moment. And I made her a promise. I told her I would stop drinking. At the utterance of these words, a catharsis of deep sadness and regret spilled out of my eyes as if they would have burst if I kept the moisture in any longer, a sinking ship filling and filling with water until finally it can’t hold on any longer and gravity (is it gravity that makes it sink?) forces the boat down and down to the ocean floor, no longer touching breathable oxygen. I allowed this overhaul of emotions the space it needed, but probably not enough time. I gathered myself back into its normalcy of social acceptance- dry eyes and a quaint little smile. Though my face was still beet red an hour afterwards. Thank you, grandma, for passing down your rosacea.

Fast forward, back to Chelsey. She sat at the desk with her long, mousey brown dreadlocks all pulled to her left side, so they were drooping down the left side of her dark blue Hollister hoody. She always had a college-ruled spiral bound notebook in front of her. Today she was writing down Lil’ Wayne lyrics. She was so amused by the cleverness of the poeticism in his raps and lyrics. I found this ironic and hilarious. Chelsey helped me get my voice back. On paper, she was a night monitor at STAR, a sober living apartment building to help 18-25 year-olds in recovery, where I somehow found myself a resident.

I mean, it wasn’t that bad of a gig: I had my own 1-bedroom apartment rent-free. I didn’t have to work for the first 6-9 months I was there. All I had to do was cruise down to counseling sessions and group classes three times a week and take a bunch of UA’s (urinary analysis) to determine that I was still nice and sober in order to keep living there. So yeah, I guess I was just saying that it was odd because I was a white 23-year old from a suburban family with parents still together with 3 years’ worth of a college education- now a resident of a treatment program that was designed for homeless youth. With no hope. No family. No formal education. I mean, I don’t like to compare myself to others, but I did feel a little out of place at times, and I was constantly wondering if I was somehow taking advantage of this program. But then I would remind myself of the facts: I was under 25. I was homeless (living with my parents was a deadly option at this point). And I needed accountability to stay sober. And therapy was definitely a plus.

ca·thar·sis

noun

  1. The process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.

synonyms:

emotional release, relief, release, venting

Obituary (Revised)

Patricia Ann Dewey, 73, of Aurora, Colorado, passed away on April 3, 2013 of cirrhosis of the liver. She died way too early. Yet, she died almost exactly one year after her mother- her roommate, confidant, and best friend. The funeral service will be held at Fairmount Mortuary at 430 South Quebec Street on Wednesday, April 10 at 11:00. Pastor Ray Cook of Colorado Community Church will be officiating. Viewing will be held at Fairmount Mortuary on Tuesday, April 9 from 12:00 to 4:00 pm. Burial will follow the funeral at Fairmount Mortuary.

Patricia was born in Tucson, Arizona on February 26, 1940 to Joseph and Edith Wilson. Her parents loved her and her brother unconditionally with astounding grace and kindness. She graduated from Whittier High School. Years later, after she moved to Denver with her family, she worked her butt off to obtain an Accounting degree from Metro State. Patricia had one younger brother, Richard, who proceeded her in death in 2006. He decided to take his life by hanging himself at his residence in Las Vegas. Was it because he was addicted to gambling? Maybe. Was it because he saw horrific things as a police officer in Aurora, Colorado? Who knows. We will never know why, but we come up with these things to make sense of it. Karen, Patricia’s only daughter, was born in La Mirada, California on March 3, 1966. The father of Karen and Patricia’s husband left them when Karen was about one year old. She moved back in with her tight-knit family to help raise her daughter.

In 1972, Patricia and her family moved to Colorado. She worked as a Controller for Fairmount Mortuary for 18 years (and the first female controller at that!). She enjoyed playing golf (and taught women how to golf because our anatomy is different than men’s), camping (she bought a motorhome to take her daughter’s family camping), and painting (oil painting, china painting, watercolor painting, you name it). Patricia was also actively involved in Eastern Star, a Christian community for women. Patricia is survived by her daughter and son in law, Karen and John Faust, as well as two grandchildren, Jordan and Ryan Faust. She is also survived by her brother’s children, Jamie and Jodi Wilson. Patricia was very active in her church no matter where she lived. Patricia’s kindness, generosity, joy, love, and humor touched everyone she knew, and will be greatly missed by her family and friends.

Her kindness, generosity, joy, love, and humor especially affected her granddaughter, Jordan. Patricia decided to retire early so she could spend more time with her grandchildren. She took them to the Aquarium downtown. She took them to Dairy Queen as often as they wanted to go. And then they started to grow older. After Jordan graduated high school, Patricia took her on a cruise to Hawaii as a celebration. When Jordan went off to college, Patricia helped her find appropriate student loans and bought her very first laptop to take to school. Patricia would talk about Aliens, God, and all kinds of mysteries with Jordan. Jordan got swooped up by the worldly, unfulfilling yet addictive pleasures and stopped visiting her grandma and great grandma. All of a sudden, Patricia’s mother passed away and Patricia started becoming weaker, taking heavy falls which caused her body to stop fighting. But nobody knew she was going to die from this so suddenly. Yet it wasn’t sudden- all of a sudden she was supposed to die- and they sent her to the hospice- and she laid in there for over two weeks- waiting for death. No, waiting for God to come swoop her up and take her to heaven. And finally, he did. Now she is standing in heaven, with her mother, father, and brother, standing over us and beaming with joy. Even after her death, she showered Jordan with limitless gratitude- paying off portions of her student loans, even though she dropped out after three years. She had faith in Jordan, that she was strong and there was something special about her, even if Jordan didn’t believe so herself. But now, Jordan has faith that her grandma is looking down at her, pleased as ever, patient in love, and perfect in kindness.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 New International Version (NIV)

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

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The Rehab Means Something to Me.

The rehab means something to me. It’s a place. It’s a metaphor. It’s a turning point. It represents the point between two lines in my life that are vastly different. But I’m the same me, the same Jordan. The first line includes childhood. School. Happiness. But then destruction. The destruction led to Events and Addictions that couldn’t be turned around without drastic measures. There were many attempts. Many hopes. But many failures. The failures soon led to Hopelessness and Misery. Until rehab became the only salvageable option. The image of my grandmother keeps coming to mind. She was one of my hopes and inspirations of turning my life around. All she wanted for me was happiness, which meant sobriety and a relationship with God. So, rehab. The point that changed my life around. Made me able to stop the Destruction, especially the Self Destruction. Gave me back my hope and courage. Led me to where I am in my life now. On a Spiritual Journey, going through Personal Growth every day that I never knew could be imagineable. Now I couldn’t imagine it any other way. Hope, Faith, Courage. My Grandma must be looking down on me with tears of joy rolling down her rosy cheek, which makes me smile and tear up as well. I have so much potential. The world is at my hands and feet. I can do anything and everything as long as I can dream and imagine it then work my ass of for it. I am so blessed not only to be alive but to be well and happy and on my way to whatever I can dream of.

Dear Grandma (poem)

Dear Grandma,

Why is the world
so cold
sometimes?

Why is it
so hard
to breathe sometimes?

Yesterday seems like
a minute ago
and tomorrow
a million miles away.

All of these
Emotions
fill up my eyes
until
I can’t see.
Fill up my chest
until
the weight becomes
unbearable.

Why can’t I find
somewhere else
to put these things?

Why do my emotions
turn to
Anger sometimes?
I used to be able
to release it
to vent it.

But that became
too unhealthy
it was killing
me.
Poisoning my body.

Now what am
I supposed to do?

Is God listening?

Does he hear my cries?

Does he feel my pain?

Can he hear when I laugh?

I know what you’d say.
He always hears.
He always listens.
Now I just
need to listen for him.

 

Love you grandma ❤

Dear Grandma, [7/30/13]

I am so sorry. I’ve made you so many promises. That I’d stop drinking. That I’d finish school. You even told me that you’d wait to die until after I finished my first book. You haven’t been able to see these things when you were alive, but I will make sure they still happen. It’s because of you that I’m able to afford school without being in debt. It’s because of you that I’m able to afford this treatment. And you don’t know how grateful I am for that. You are the inspiration for my first book. You’ve given me so many ideas, wisdom, and help regarding anything that i’d ask for. I’m sorry I didn’t see you as much these past few years. All of my priorities went out the window, including the people I love. I love you so much and miss you so much. I don’t think I was able to grieve before, and now I can. But it’s all happy things that I remember about you. Like when you retired to spend more time with me and Ryan. And you took me to the Aquarium. And you taking me to art classes. I wish I did more art with you. But you loved my writing. And I could always go to your house when I wanted to get away from home. We would watch movies and talk about life, and you even started teaching me how to cook.

I feel bad that I didn’t go to your house after you passed to go through the stuff that I wanted. I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. Now if I could go back I’d get your recipes and more of your artwork.

You were always so happy and filled with joy. Maybe a little frustrated at times when you couldn’t get around as easily. But I will always remember your big smile and how accepting you were of people no matter what. And when you took me on the cruise to Hawaii for my high school graduation present. That day on Honolei Bay was the best day of my life. Being in the ocean, seeing the mountains, and eating snow cones.

It’s hard to think about this life without you. But I can do this. I have to remember that it’s ok to be in tune with my inner child like you taught me, and to not be so serious all the time. It’s hard. Life is hard. But it’s during these times that we learn the most. I love you so much. Thank you, Grandma.

Good Night with Good People

Some girlfriends from work and I have been trying to get together and get dinner or drinks to talk and hang out. Yesterday we were supposed to meet at Elephant Bar, but I ended up not being able to because of arrangements I forgot about. They didn’t meet up either, but tonight Amanda and I decided to go to Chili’s after work to eat and catch up with her husband, Jordan.

After I got home from this dinner, I felt so blessed. They are both amazing, beautiful people inside and out. I felt like it was a “God” thing. Jordan has been working for Chili’s and is moving up to be a manager in Colorado Springs, so they are moving this Tuesday. That’s why I wanted to get together with Amanda before she left town. We were talking about work, life, money, everything. I told them my story with school, and how much I want and need to live on my own and be independent. I mentioned  that I have been working for Old Navy for 6 years now, and it seemed to flabbergast them. They told me that working at Chili’s and being a server would definitely take me out of my comfort zone, but it could be just the change I need in my life right now that could bring in the money I need to do what I want.

Jordan went and talked to one of the managers who said they are in need of servers, and he put in a good word for me. He told me to go in on Monday to meet with another manager, I think the GM or something. I’m going to go in and introduce myself and talk about the position before I apply online, pretty much putting a face to the name. I feel so lucky that I have these people, who I didn’t really know, to help and support me in times of need.

I also feel like this is such a good sign from God. Amanda told me that her grandma would always tell her, “Everything’s going to be okay.” That’s what my grandma would say to me, every time I talked to her. I  need this change. Maybe it was a good thing I couldn’t meet with the girls yesterday. We’re all supposed to get together on Monday, but this more intimate get-together with Amanda and her husband was definitely a meant-to-be sign. I will definitely miss her when she moves to the Springs, but we will find times to hang out.

So here’s to a new Adventure in my life 🙂

adventure

Tough Day

So, my phone completely broke the other night. I hate Iphones. Ughh. It just simply wouldn’t turn on, even on the charger.

So today I realized I could use my dad’s old, pretty crappy phone (no t9!?) and put my sim card in there. My contacts of course weren’t converted with my luck.

I was looking through my mom’s numbers of the family to put in my phone, and I passed my her number. “Mom cell” and Mom home” were what they were titled. My grandma. Usually when I put my grandmas in my phone, there’s Gma home and cell, and Gma Faust. 2 grandmas. This realization really hit me hard. Emotions totally come and go, and this was definitely very emotional for me.

But, I need to be especially grateful for the Grandma that I still have. She’s 93, but healthy as can be. Still lives at home on her own, drives, and even golfs sometimes. I got a message from her during the time my phone was off, asking me to come by and help her with a puzzle. That put a tear in my eye, and made me so grateful that I have a wonderful, wise, lovely lady grandma in my life that I can spend time with. Meanwhile, Gma Dewey is looking down at me from above, and is with me at all times.

clouds

Funeral

Pats Picture

I didn’t think I’d have the strength to write this post, but today I’ve had many mixed emotions. I feel like it would be good for me to write out what happened.

Yesterday was my grandma, Patricia Dewey’s, funeral. It was an absolutely beautiful service. It was at Fairmount Mortuary, which she worked at for 18 years before she retired to spend more time with me and my younger brother, Ryan.

On the handout, the picture above is on the front cover, and it says “Celebrating the Life of Patricia Ann Dewey” February 26, 1940-April 3, 2013.

The service started at 11 am with bagpipes performing “Amazing Grace.” This alone brought tears to my eyes. I always loved the sound of bagpipes, and I know my grandma did too.

Pastor Ray Cook did most of the service, with the welcome, prayer, message of hope, and benediction. Our family is immensely blessed to have him be there with us and to do this service. He knew my great grandma, and my grandma extremely well. He was their favorite. He would visit their home just to make sure they were doing alright, and he prayed over both of them on their deathbed. I can’t describe how important he is to our family and how thankful I am for him helping out so much.

After Ray’s introduction, my mom and I went up to the microphone to read a scripture. Mom went first and read out of Proverbs. I read out of Proverbs as well. I told everyone that I had been studying Proverbs, and that in this book of the bible “Wisdom” is referred to a lot as a “She” or woman figure. I thought that my grandma was this womanly, wisdomly figure This is the verse I read:

“I love those who love me, and those who seek me find me.
With me are riches and honor, enduring wealth and prosperity.
My fruit is better than fine gold; what I yield surpasses choice silver.
I walk in the way of righteousness, along the paths of justice,
bestowing a rich inheritance on those who love me and making their treasuries full.
The Lord brought me forth as the first of his works, before his deeds of old;
I was formed long ages ago, at the very beginning, when the world came to be.
When there were no watery depths, I was given birth, when there were no springs overflowing with water;
before the mountains were settled in place, before the hills, I was given birth,
before he made the world or its fields or any of the dust of the earth.
I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep,
when he established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep,
when he gave the sea its boundary so the waters would not overstep his command,
and when he marked out the foundations of the earth.
Then I was constantly at his side.
I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence,
rejoicing in his whole world and delighting in mankind.

Now then, my children, listen to me; blessed are those who keep my ways.
Listen to my instruction and be wise; do not disregard it.
Blessed are those who listen to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway.
For those who find me find life and receive favor from the Lord”

Proverbs 8:17-35

I don’t know exactly why this verse spoke to me, or why I was driven to speak it at the funeral, but I always remember my grandma being so wise and full of Jesus’ love. Whenever I had a problem, she said that I could crawl up in His lap. If I ever did something bad, she said that she may not like what I’m doing, but she would always love me, and to never do anything to make God cry. I know I’ve made God cry with some of my past actions. And I have a legacy to fill. With both my grandma and G.G. being wise women of the lord, I don’t want anything less than to make them proud. I want it for myself too.

Anyways, as the service at the funeral moved on, Dave Lemieux sang “How Great Thou Art” and “I Can Only Imagine” while playing the piano. Wow, his voice really shook up the place. I was hit once again by the words of these wise men singing about the Lord, and about how great he is, and about heaven.

During the open microphone, some people went up just to talk about how much of an inspiration Grandma was to them, and how she always had humor to make them feel comfortable. They also played the song, “Spirit in the Sky” that was in the “Remember the Titans” soundtrack, which was pretty awesome. I could just imagine grandma dancing to that song..

After the service, we drove our cars the the burial site. Ryan, my brother was with me as I drove behind Pastor Ray who was behind my dad and mom. We exited our cars, and we heard more Bagpipes playing, bringing more tears to my eyes. My brother and father were Pallbearers, so they carried her casket to the grave-site. It was cold and windy, but Ray continued with his prayers and all the family and friends were behind, in prayer, and in peace as he asked us to remember our most happy memory with her.

My happy memory was when she officially retired, and I was about 8. She took me to the “Aquarium,” which had a different name back then. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was for me because she left her workplace to spend more time with me and Ryan. And she did. And I miss her so much. I have 2 holes missing from my heart. We used to have 5 generations. I was most used to 4. But now it’s down to 2, within a year pretty much. I love my mom, and I know she needs support too. She was raised by these women.

What’s next? I don’t know. Time will tell. But here’s a picture of us 4 generations. Strong, loving women.

4 generations picture

When It Rains, It Pours

The first time I heard this saying, I was at work when I was the only cashier, and all of a sudden a million people got in line at once. I probably looked extremely overwhelmed, and the customer I was currently with looked sympathetically at me and said, “when it rains it pours.” I had to think about it for a second, but I got it.

Ever since then, I’ve been realizing how true this is to my life. When something bad happens, all of a sudden everything else that could go bad seems to do so.

A couple years back, I was going through a horrible break-up. I was also in the middle of moving to a different location, and my grandma and great grandma were going through nursing homes and health issues. My life became so stressful and overwhelming that I had to withdraw from that semester at school. I’m still dealing with the consequences of missing that semester at school, since it set me back. And I’m still emotionally hardened at times with the break up. Things looked up a little after that, and it was definitely a good learning experience for me.

Current times are reminding me of those times. The passing of my grandmother is very tough for me and my family, especially my mom since she was her only daughter. During this last month full of hospitals, nursing homes, and a death, I’ve also been going through another break-up. He didn’t seem to be that sympathetic to me, and he didn’t seem to get it through his head that my family takes first priority for me. Today it was finalized because I told him I couldn’t go to a movie last minute. I told him I needed to work on myself during this time, and if he couldn’t support me in that, then I couldn’t continue working on the relationship. So he pretty much wrote me off, with words of “nice knowing ya” and “bye.” It broke my heart, but maybe it’s for the best. He will probably never speak to me again, since he told me once that he never stays friends with exes. He blocked me from facebook too, which is probably another good thing because otherwise I’d be tempted to see what he’s doing. It’s just so hard to think that I’ll never have any kind of a relationship with this person who had part of my heart ever again.

I guess I just need to look at the positives out of this pouring rain.

My grandma is in her eternal, heavenly home no longer suffering.

There’s a better person out there for me that will be sensitive to my needs and priorities.

Now I just need to get my $h!t together; get back on track with school, save my money to move out and be independent, probably by finding another job, and continue working on myself- my happiness, faith, health, sobriety, etc. You have to love yourself first before you can love someone else.

On another positive, random note, my wonderful friend, and friend of my grandma’s, cut my hair today for free! And I did the “wild ombre” dye job to my hair. I feel refreshed with this new look. And I start work again tomorrow. 🙂

calm

Obituary

Patricia Ann Dewey, 73, of Aurora, Colorado, passed away on April 3, 2013. The funeral service will be held at Fairmount Mortuary at 430 South Quebec Street on Wednesday, April 10 at 11:00. Pastor Ray Cook of Colorado Community Church will be officiating. Viewing will be held at Fairmount Mortuary on Tuesday, April 9 from 12:00 to 4:00 pm. Burial will follow the funeral at Fairmount Mortuary.

 
Patricia was born in Tucson, Arizona on February 26, 1940 to Joseph and Edith Wilson. She graduated from Whittier High School, and continued on to receive an Accounting degree from Metro State in Colorado. Patricia had one brother, Richard, who proceeded her in death in 2006. Karen, Patricia’s daughter, was born in La Mirada, California on March 3, 1966.

 
In 1972, Patricia and her family moved to Colorado. She worked as a Controller for Fairmount Mortuary for 18 years. She enjoyed playing golf, camping, and painting. Patricia was also actively involved in Eastern Star.  Patricia is survived by her daughter and son in law, Karen and John Faust, as well as two grandchildren, Jordan and Ryan Faust. She is also survived by two nieces, Jamie and Jodi Wilson. Patricia was very active in her church no matter where she lived. Patricia’s kindness, generosity, joy, love, and humor touched everyone she knew, and will be greatly missed by her family and friends.

 

The Reception will be held at Colorado Community Church following  the funeral services. Address can be found below.

 
In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions in Patricia’s honor may be made to:
Colorado Community Church
Deacons Fund
2220 S Chambers Road
Aurora Colorado 80014
(Please write “Patricia Dewey Memorial”
in the memo line of your check)
Or
The Denver Hospice
501 S Cherry Street – Suite 700
Denver Colorado 80246

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Insensivity

I don’t understand how some people can be so insensitive during these rough times.

I understand we all mourn differently.

And I know that most of my family and friends have been super supportive and sensitive.

But there are others that say things that just flabbergast me, and make me want to cry and bury myself in a hole. Some are family, and some are family “friends.”

An example being, a friend of my grandmothers came into the hospice early one morning while mom and I were waking up. My mom left to go get coffee, and this “friend” started going off about how disappointed she was of me, and how much of a disappointment I was to my grandmother, and that she doesn’t want me to end up like my mother. It was simply because she found out that I smoked cigarettes.

Who are you to judge me, and my family, while I am grieving over my dying grandmother? Later, she told my mother that she had to “put me in my place.”

I know I should let it roll it off my shoulder, but words like these are extremely hurtful, and undeserved. She claims she is a christian, but God’s teaching tells us that only He can judge us, and that we should be supportive of our brothers and sisters, especially in times like these.

I can’t help but cry, not only because my grandmother is gone, but people have to judge me and say that I’m a huge disappointment  I know my grandma loved me endlessly, and no matter what I did she would forgive me and support me.

Like she always said to me, “I love you once, I love you twice, I love you more than beans and rice” 🙂