time to say goodbye ... again

Well gosh.  It's been a really rotten time around here. Two more losses. Two more passages on the road of life. First we lost our dearest family friend Betty in July. (pictured in the bottom photo, on the left) and then my Aunt Emily passed away in the first week of August. (in the top picture and also on the right, in the photo with Betty) And of course sandwiched in between them, was the loss of our doggy Missy. 

Three losses over three weeks. WAH! sob sob sniffle. They come quickly (and not singularly anymore) when one reaches a certain age, don't they?!  I feel them as body blows, as if I have had the air knocked out of me and I struggle to breathe.

Betty came into my families life in approximately 1974. She taught crafts classes to children and adults and my mom took a dollhouse furniture making class from her. Either the first or second class, they became friends for life. Kindred spirits. Betty was the epitome of what a friend is supposed to be; kind, caring, smart, funny, loyal and true blue, always there when you need her. She would quickly become all of our friends and later would help my father and I make it through the years that followed my mom's death in 1996.

My Aunt Emily was quite a character and leaves a gigantic imprint. She was always the brightest light in any room. She was smart and funny and she spoke her mind. She was always dear and kind to me, trying to draw this shy introvert out of her shell. After my mother passed away, my father would gather the family together for holidays and Aunt Emily would always entertain us with stories. After my father passed away in 2011, we all lost our way for awhile, his absence was so big and our grief so large. Eventually we would see Aunt Emily and her family again on some holidays. We were able to see her this April, she seemed excited to see us but I don't think she really knew who we were. Such a heartbreak that dementia would take her away from us.

Please remember to cherish all those dear to you and don't let the days slip away from you.

eighteen years

Still sick over here ... and worse, coughing and sneezing and bobbing one's head, do little to aid in the healing of a wonky eyeball. No sirree, they add to the problem.  WAH!

 So hard to believe it's been eighteen years today since 

my mom passed away. Missing you Mom!

farewell dear friend

Debbie and me

oh gosh.

My heart is burdened and broken with yet another profound loss. I found out yesterday that my very first childhood best friend passed away in 2010.

Debbie was an alcoholic and a drug addict.  I last spoke to her in 1994. The last straw in our relationship came for me when she chose drugs over her four year old son and abandoned him to her husband.

While out running errands, I would catch glimpses of her a few times later in 94 or 95, around the neighborhood with a shopping cart, like one of the many struggling or homeless in Los Angeles.  I would never see her again.

In the back of my mind, I always knew the chances of her still being with us were slim. Alcohol and substance abuse recovery rates are very very low and she had never been willing to admit she had a problem, let alone seek help.

But still the heart hopes.

November 8th would have been her 59th birthday.  She was continually on my mind. I felt her presence so strongly this month. 

And yesterday, I felt the need to see if I could find something out.  Thinking I was looking for a phone number or address online, I found instead, an obituary notice. In shock and disbelief, I logged onto my Ancestry.com account and it confirmed that she had passed away in April of 2010. 

The tears flow unabated, like Niagara Falls. Regret fills me.  I should have just been there.  No child grows up dreaming of being an alcoholic or an addict, or living a life hurting and disappointing those they love. I should have found a way to be there.

I don't know what happened to her, will most likely never know. I long to know she was loved and cared for.


I met Debbie in Kindergarten. She was blonde, full of life and fearless. I was brunette, scared of my own shadow and the description "painfully shy" was made for me.

Debbie's parents were fifty when she was born, her mom had been told that she would never have children and then SURPRISE!, here came Debbie.  Debbie was adored and doted on. Her father built her room sized Christmas scenes every holiday to enchant her.  Her mother made most of her clothes and all her Halloween costumes. For her sixth birthday, Dorothy made her a clown outfit for her birthday party that was at the TV show, Chucko the Clown - her outfit was identical to Chucko's. I remembered it to this day, she and Chucko together. 

I learned to swim with Debbie - I was petrified and she had nerves of steel. 

I wanted to take ballet because Debbie did - she'd been taking it since she was three. I longed to be a ballerina but after one day of a cranky instructor barking at my seriously-low-self-esteem-self, that was the end of my ballerina dreams.

Debbie was always the most popular. She was a friend to everyone and everyone wanted to be her pal.

Our friendship would wax and wane from 1959 to 1994, but she was always there. Her last gift of friendship to me was buoying my spirits and telling me I deserved so much better, when I (ironically) left my alcoholic ex-husband.


Love you always, dearest and best of friends! 

one year

Saturday was one year since my father passed away.

What a thing grief is! Ever since January, which was the one year anniversary of when this all began with my father's fall and his breaking his hip and then his decline - I have been replaying and reliving, the sad, the traumatic, the painful events. As if it's on a loop in my brain.

SOB!

Not being a newcomer to this world of grief, I have been counting down and longing for the arrival of March 10th, knowing that somehow miraculously, things do weigh less heavily, less frequently, after the first year mark.

I made plans to do something that would bring me joy on the day and also something in remembrance of my dad.


The hubs and I went down south to Santa Ana and took in GLITTER FEST for the first time. So much fun to get to see lovely creations and artists I've seen online. Can't wait until it's time for the next one in the Fall.

Cards from a few of the wonderful artists in attendance.

I got some darling - as if I need more, geeeeeeezzzz - Easter ornaments for my feather tree.

(by Sue Smith of The Fox & The Hare)

(by Robin Kelso)

I apologize to the wonderful artisans who made these for the miserable photos - it's always easier to grab the stupid phone, rather than hunt down the camera and here are the results. WAH!

And we ran into my crafty friend Susan too! Hi Susan!

And then we drove over to Costa Mesa to have lunch at the Taco Asylum. We're vegetarian and I had seen online that they had a wild mushroom taco and a curried paneer taco - nom nom nom YUMMERS! Tasty! Now they weren't in tortilla's - they were on naan bread, like pita. Actually I'm not sure that anything on the menu is what you typically think of as a taco, but they sure are good if you're in Costa Mesa.

Then on Saturday evening, we met my sister-in-law and my two nieces for dinner, to share the one year anniversary and think of the father, father-in-law, grandfather, we all miss so much.

My oldest niece was newly engaged the previous weekend and her fiance came along too. So very nice to have some good news this year, after so much sad news, so many passings last year.


We lost my brother 16 years ago, so my darling oldest niece will walk up the aisle with her momma. The moments my brother missed and the moments his dear girls have missed with him, break our hearts, over and over. But life goes on and somehow new moments of joy are made.

Then on Sunday, we went out to breakfast and then took a trip out to the cemetery and sat with dad (and my mother and my uncle too, nearby) for awhile.

So, one year passed. Our hearts look both backward and forward ... we long for Spring and new beginnings.


Happy Monday to you all!