Hey Bear.
I sure do miss you. I'm not used to the house without you in it. It feels funny...weird even.
I saw something the other day....
I had a guy come in the office who was my age and he has emphysema. He has a little boy about 5 or 6 - he won't ever see his boy graduate college, and will miss out on a ton of things to do with him.
I always thought that emphysema was for older people who had already lived most of their life....he's to young Bear.....I'm to young.
I don't want that to happen to me. It scared the shit out of me...the possibility that I might not be able to be there for you and your brother, especially while you're little......
so I'm quitting...and so is your dad, we're doing it together.
Hopefully, the house will be smoke free by the time you come home.
I'm not doing so good. I've smoke 1 cig, and 2 half cigs today....but considering I would have smoked well over half a pack by now, I guess I'm doing okay.....
but I will do better Sweetness. I want to see you play with my grand kids, I want to see you grow old.
I want to see Connor grow into a man, and you into a lovely young woman.
I'm workin on it kiddo. I'm working on it.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Dear Little Bear,
I have been thinking.
I've been thinking about how I always wanted to be a writer and how I always wanted to do something great and be remembered for it...not necessarily doing some heroic deed with my writing but to have great writing and do a heroic deed.
I am often a selfish thoughtless person Little Bear. I don't mean to be, but I am...and my forgetfulness isn't very conducive to mending my ways...though, I have often tried and failed and given up all together in disgust.
I have come to the conclusive realization, that I'll never be a hero, or an important person, or even really to be a great writer...and to be honest...I've not had an easy time admitting to it. I don't suspect that anyone would - not when they have great big dreams of some herculean or even small feats that would ascend them to the sky in the eyes of friends and strangers.
I find it hard to accept the fact - the hard reality - that when I die, no one will ever know I was here...except you my Sweet Bear, your hell raising Brother..and more than likely, I will go to join your Dad when I go...with his diabetes, he isn't likely to out last me.
I won't lie and say that it makes no difference to me..because it does.
I have a talent for writing my little stories and such...but talent is not genius (if I may quote LITTLE WOMEN) and I'm not good enough at it to amount to anything....but I do like it...so I'll just write for my own enjoyment....and maybe yours someday too...if you can ever find it in you to appreciate my drivel.
I live an ordinary life Sweetness. I am no great beauty (though, I must admit to vanity and say that I once was when I was young and thin) and I have no astounding accomplishment to distinguish me. I'm just another working class soul with a house, husband, children, and a job that I would rather not have.....
but I have found hope in these things Bear.
I have a great husband. You father has his faults Sweetness, but not more than any other man...he's damnably fine as far as men go. He rarely looses his temper, works hard...and he loves us. He loves you Sweetness, he just doesn't show it well. He's not quite sure what to do with you....he's a serious person with bouts of goofiness...you're a goofy person with bouts of seriousness. The contrasts don't seem to go well together...but never doubt that he loves you.
Our house is no castle, but we work hard for it and earn an honest living. One day, hopefully soon, we'll have the money to furnish and decorate it. I never wanted to live in a trailer. I'll admit that it's a bitter disappointment to me...but those walls hold a happy family...so I'll hush and be thankful for it.
I have two great - though very different children. You are all sweetness and light.....with a spice of smartassery (my doing)...and your brother is spawn of Satan. I swear that boy is a trial to me. He has argued with me since he learned to talk...and I'm not exaggerating...but I love you both...more completely than I ever thought I'd love anyone....and I don't know - and don't WANT to know what my life would be like without you and your hellion brother.
As far as the job goes...there aren't many people who enjoy what they do, so I should just be thankful to have one and shut up about it....I'll work on that.
Maybe when I get older and wiser, I will know more about life and be able to be more gratified and graceful in everything, but until then, I must suffer along with everyone else and hope I don't crush to many toes.
I hope I don't screw up.
I've been thinking about how I always wanted to be a writer and how I always wanted to do something great and be remembered for it...not necessarily doing some heroic deed with my writing but to have great writing and do a heroic deed.
I am often a selfish thoughtless person Little Bear. I don't mean to be, but I am...and my forgetfulness isn't very conducive to mending my ways...though, I have often tried and failed and given up all together in disgust.
I have come to the conclusive realization, that I'll never be a hero, or an important person, or even really to be a great writer...and to be honest...I've not had an easy time admitting to it. I don't suspect that anyone would - not when they have great big dreams of some herculean or even small feats that would ascend them to the sky in the eyes of friends and strangers.
I find it hard to accept the fact - the hard reality - that when I die, no one will ever know I was here...except you my Sweet Bear, your hell raising Brother..and more than likely, I will go to join your Dad when I go...with his diabetes, he isn't likely to out last me.
I won't lie and say that it makes no difference to me..because it does.
I have a talent for writing my little stories and such...but talent is not genius (if I may quote LITTLE WOMEN) and I'm not good enough at it to amount to anything....but I do like it...so I'll just write for my own enjoyment....and maybe yours someday too...if you can ever find it in you to appreciate my drivel.
I live an ordinary life Sweetness. I am no great beauty (though, I must admit to vanity and say that I once was when I was young and thin) and I have no astounding accomplishment to distinguish me. I'm just another working class soul with a house, husband, children, and a job that I would rather not have.....
but I have found hope in these things Bear.
I have a great husband. You father has his faults Sweetness, but not more than any other man...he's damnably fine as far as men go. He rarely looses his temper, works hard...and he loves us. He loves you Sweetness, he just doesn't show it well. He's not quite sure what to do with you....he's a serious person with bouts of goofiness...you're a goofy person with bouts of seriousness. The contrasts don't seem to go well together...but never doubt that he loves you.
Our house is no castle, but we work hard for it and earn an honest living. One day, hopefully soon, we'll have the money to furnish and decorate it. I never wanted to live in a trailer. I'll admit that it's a bitter disappointment to me...but those walls hold a happy family...so I'll hush and be thankful for it.
I have two great - though very different children. You are all sweetness and light.....with a spice of smartassery (my doing)...and your brother is spawn of Satan. I swear that boy is a trial to me. He has argued with me since he learned to talk...and I'm not exaggerating...but I love you both...more completely than I ever thought I'd love anyone....and I don't know - and don't WANT to know what my life would be like without you and your hellion brother.
As far as the job goes...there aren't many people who enjoy what they do, so I should just be thankful to have one and shut up about it....I'll work on that.
Maybe when I get older and wiser, I will know more about life and be able to be more gratified and graceful in everything, but until then, I must suffer along with everyone else and hope I don't crush to many toes.
I hope I don't screw up.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Dear Shrimp
This morning was just like so many other mornings. I woke up late and everyone rushed to get ready on time. Your father stuffed Midget Man in his clothes, I threw my hair up in some sort of careless manner, and you worked hard to avoid brushing your teeth and using deodorant. We took the trash off on the way to school and Midget aggravated us both with "TWO TWO TWO TWO" the whole way there.
I was almost in the free and clear. Nothing had gone horribly wrong this morning - I hadn't killed anyone and the car didn't break down so overall I was feeling pretty good - and then it happened.
We were all in our customary places in the car - me driving, you behind me and Midget to your right. The frizz from your hair was lashing about the back of the car - like alien tentacles - from where I had my window cracked, and you were reading one of those Archie comics of yours (one of the many from your Archie comic stack that is immediately to your right stacked between you and Midgets car seat - and the stack is so high, Midget can reach them). You asked me what the work "Congeniality" meant and that was the high point of the morning. You gave the Midget your stuffed bunny you were taking to school with you and that started an argument over who's bunny it was and then you finally got your bunny back and you gave it a silly hug and said "I think I want to be a veterinarian when I grow up" and I felt pretty good about that - especially since that's not the first time you've said it...and I had hope and immediately a picture of you all grown up flashed in my mind - of you working in a Vet's office with that white lab coat on and I felt so proud......but you didn't stop there. You continued, and I could hear the frustration in your voice "There are three things I want to be when I grow up - but I can't decide which one I want to be. I want to be an Artist, or a Vet, or a Homemaker."
But it sounded so much more to me than the simple declarative sentience that issued forth from your lovely innocents. The word "homemaker" appeared to have been said in CAPITAL letters - with a great booming sound - and in my mind it had an echo... so I just didn't hear "...or a
Homemaker", I heard "HOMEMAKER, HOMEMAKER, HOMEMAKER, HOMEMAKER, MAKER MAKER MAKER." and I really thought I might pass out right there at the 4 way stop we were at.
I knew you and I were two different souls when you were just a baby. You have always been ...dare I say it....almost.........submissive and placid....in somethings, and I not almost submissive or placid in anything - I'm an angry fighter.
I remember very clearly putting you in dresses that summer you just turned 2 and you couldn't have been happier. You were so cute and precious and wonderful and people used to stop us where ever we went to tell me how beautiful you were - and they almost always wanted to buy you a little trinket or piece of candy...and then winter came. I brought out the baby jeans I had bought you when tights just wouldn't do to keep your little baby legs warm anymore...and you threw a fit....and I don't mean that you threw a little fit either.......you threw yourself on the floor and had a screaming tantrum - and I was trying to put those pants on you the whole time you kicked your feet and screamed bloody murder. Your face turned a deep, scary, bright scarlet and the thought crossed my mind that you little head was going to explode if you didn't quit and then, there I would be ...sitting in the middle of the living room floor with little pieces of mad baby all over the place.
That was your first temper tantrum.....because you couldn't wear a dress.
I hate dresses. They can all go the the devil and burn themselves....but you have always liked dresses and skirts and girlie, frilly, feminine things...and while I like some of those things...it has taken me most of my life to develop an appreciation and liking for them....you have ALWAYS liked and preferred them.
I DISTINCTLY remember when I was a little kid, having to stay in the house with my mother and wash the dishes while your Uncle Jason got to go outside and play. I hated that. I hated - FROM THE EARLIEST OF MY MEMORIES - of being treated differently because was A GIRL....and I tried my best to be like the boys - possibly the biggest tomboy ever - so I could do whatever I wanted too.... and I wanted nothing to do with the entrapment's and costumes of my gender.
I have never been able to stay at home with you and Midget. I have tried....GOD KNOWS I HAVE TRIED...but I just can't do it. When you were a newborn, I had 6 weeks convalescent leave. I SOOOOO looked forward to having you and spending time with you and kissing you and snuggling and......I just couldn't take being confined to the house. When you were 2 weeks old...I packed you up and you and I went to work together. The First Sergeant came in and picked you up and fed you (he was a guy) and you were happy and I was getting some much needed time away from the house and I was GLORIOUS...even if all they were doing that day was cleaning weapons...a chore that I usually dreaded.
When Connor was just a baby and was really sick...remember that? I stayed home with him for 2 months!!!! 2 MONTHS. I almost lost my mind. I was so relived to go back to work just to get out of the house......
......and then this morning you told me you wanted to be a "HOMEMAKER MAKER MAKER MAKER".
It was a traumatic moment for me.
I have always wanted you to be - and you have shown signs of - being a strong independent person.....but now you want to be a HOMEMAKER MAKER MAKER...and I'm scared that you're going to end up depending on a man for your happiness - so that you can stay at home.....and end up being miserable...because only you can make yourself happy.
I've been turning it over in my mind since I've been writing this here at work......while I should be working....and I can only hope that you have experienced none of the prejudices (from my "protection"?) of being born a girl in this world and can maybe find the joys in the things I never could.
If that's the reason......then I can be happy. I'll be happy no matter what, as long as you're happy...but this is just such a big thing for me to get my head around.
I have always tried to give you choices. When you were a baby, I bought you toy trucks and dolls and play tools and pretty things....and you spurned all the "boy toys" and devoted yourself to your dolls and pretty things and stuffed animals.
Last week you asked me "What if I want to be a person who stays at home all the time"...and while this really took me by surprise....I was okay with it...because it seemed like you were just asking a "Worst case senerio" kind of thing...and I told you it was fine to stay at home...and I explained the economics of it as best as I could and that was that. I wanted you to know that you have the CHOICE.....and this morning when you elaborated on why you wanted to be a HOMEMAKER MAKER MAKER - you said you wanted to do a bunch of cooking (which I hate and am not really good at) and baking and get fluffy ,always have a clean house....I felt like I was going to have a seizure.
Just do me a couple of favors Shrimp. Get an education. Do your best. Work hard. Don't measure your wealth by your money. Do harm to none. Help those you can. Love the Lord.
With those...no matter what you do, you should be alright...you'll be happy.
I was almost in the free and clear. Nothing had gone horribly wrong this morning - I hadn't killed anyone and the car didn't break down so overall I was feeling pretty good - and then it happened.
We were all in our customary places in the car - me driving, you behind me and Midget to your right. The frizz from your hair was lashing about the back of the car - like alien tentacles - from where I had my window cracked, and you were reading one of those Archie comics of yours (one of the many from your Archie comic stack that is immediately to your right stacked between you and Midgets car seat - and the stack is so high, Midget can reach them). You asked me what the work "Congeniality" meant and that was the high point of the morning. You gave the Midget your stuffed bunny you were taking to school with you and that started an argument over who's bunny it was and then you finally got your bunny back and you gave it a silly hug and said "I think I want to be a veterinarian when I grow up" and I felt pretty good about that - especially since that's not the first time you've said it...and I had hope and immediately a picture of you all grown up flashed in my mind - of you working in a Vet's office with that white lab coat on and I felt so proud......but you didn't stop there. You continued, and I could hear the frustration in your voice "There are three things I want to be when I grow up - but I can't decide which one I want to be. I want to be an Artist, or a Vet, or a Homemaker."
But it sounded so much more to me than the simple declarative sentience that issued forth from your lovely innocents. The word "homemaker" appeared to have been said in CAPITAL letters - with a great booming sound - and in my mind it had an echo... so I just didn't hear "...or a
Homemaker", I heard "HOMEMAKER, HOMEMAKER, HOMEMAKER, HOMEMAKER, MAKER MAKER MAKER." and I really thought I might pass out right there at the 4 way stop we were at.
I knew you and I were two different souls when you were just a baby. You have always been ...dare I say it....almost.........submissive and placid....in somethings, and I not almost submissive or placid in anything - I'm an angry fighter.
I remember very clearly putting you in dresses that summer you just turned 2 and you couldn't have been happier. You were so cute and precious and wonderful and people used to stop us where ever we went to tell me how beautiful you were - and they almost always wanted to buy you a little trinket or piece of candy...and then winter came. I brought out the baby jeans I had bought you when tights just wouldn't do to keep your little baby legs warm anymore...and you threw a fit....and I don't mean that you threw a little fit either.......you threw yourself on the floor and had a screaming tantrum - and I was trying to put those pants on you the whole time you kicked your feet and screamed bloody murder. Your face turned a deep, scary, bright scarlet and the thought crossed my mind that you little head was going to explode if you didn't quit and then, there I would be ...sitting in the middle of the living room floor with little pieces of mad baby all over the place.
That was your first temper tantrum.....because you couldn't wear a dress.
I hate dresses. They can all go the the devil and burn themselves....but you have always liked dresses and skirts and girlie, frilly, feminine things...and while I like some of those things...it has taken me most of my life to develop an appreciation and liking for them....you have ALWAYS liked and preferred them.
I DISTINCTLY remember when I was a little kid, having to stay in the house with my mother and wash the dishes while your Uncle Jason got to go outside and play. I hated that. I hated - FROM THE EARLIEST OF MY MEMORIES - of being treated differently because was A GIRL....and I tried my best to be like the boys - possibly the biggest tomboy ever - so I could do whatever I wanted too.... and I wanted nothing to do with the entrapment's and costumes of my gender.
I have never been able to stay at home with you and Midget. I have tried....GOD KNOWS I HAVE TRIED...but I just can't do it. When you were a newborn, I had 6 weeks convalescent leave. I SOOOOO looked forward to having you and spending time with you and kissing you and snuggling and......I just couldn't take being confined to the house. When you were 2 weeks old...I packed you up and you and I went to work together. The First Sergeant came in and picked you up and fed you (he was a guy) and you were happy and I was getting some much needed time away from the house and I was GLORIOUS...even if all they were doing that day was cleaning weapons...a chore that I usually dreaded.
When Connor was just a baby and was really sick...remember that? I stayed home with him for 2 months!!!! 2 MONTHS. I almost lost my mind. I was so relived to go back to work just to get out of the house......
......and then this morning you told me you wanted to be a "HOMEMAKER MAKER MAKER MAKER".
It was a traumatic moment for me.
I have always wanted you to be - and you have shown signs of - being a strong independent person.....but now you want to be a HOMEMAKER MAKER MAKER...and I'm scared that you're going to end up depending on a man for your happiness - so that you can stay at home.....and end up being miserable...because only you can make yourself happy.
I've been turning it over in my mind since I've been writing this here at work......while I should be working....and I can only hope that you have experienced none of the prejudices (from my "protection"?) of being born a girl in this world and can maybe find the joys in the things I never could.
If that's the reason......then I can be happy. I'll be happy no matter what, as long as you're happy...but this is just such a big thing for me to get my head around.
I have always tried to give you choices. When you were a baby, I bought you toy trucks and dolls and play tools and pretty things....and you spurned all the "boy toys" and devoted yourself to your dolls and pretty things and stuffed animals.
Last week you asked me "What if I want to be a person who stays at home all the time"...and while this really took me by surprise....I was okay with it...because it seemed like you were just asking a "Worst case senerio" kind of thing...and I told you it was fine to stay at home...and I explained the economics of it as best as I could and that was that. I wanted you to know that you have the CHOICE.....and this morning when you elaborated on why you wanted to be a HOMEMAKER MAKER MAKER - you said you wanted to do a bunch of cooking (which I hate and am not really good at) and baking and get fluffy ,always have a clean house....I felt like I was going to have a seizure.
Just do me a couple of favors Shrimp. Get an education. Do your best. Work hard. Don't measure your wealth by your money. Do harm to none. Help those you can. Love the Lord.
With those...no matter what you do, you should be alright...you'll be happy.
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