this morning i woke up at 4 am, unsure of what to do. There's been so much doing around here lately and I'm tired. We've worked tirelessly on the house for the last 7 days and last night was the first night I sat in my home, alone, in weeks. Maybe i was unsettled, like something was forgotten, but as i crawled back in bed i realized that also for the first time... everything was quiet. this isn't a quiet neighborhood and i've grown so used to listening to the laughter, the car alarms, the firecrackers that fill this area from morning to night all summer long. but at 4 a.m... there was nothing. and when i suddenly couldn't hear anything ... i strained to find something. Everything has been set into motion for a few weeks and we're down to the last of things to have done before the house is on the market. all that's on my list is to iron/hang some curtains in the dining room and mop the floors. this doesn't seem like much but if you had seen my list a few weeks ago you'd understand why even having just two more small things to do is starting to irritate me. i'm ready to close this chapter, move and move on. more than a few people have said that i should wait this market out, wait until it gets better, but i started this and it's slowly wearing me out. it's been one of the most stressful things that i've gone through and it would make any persons head spin out of control. so should i wait? no, i can't. because i'm tired and i need the noise in my head to also be silent and then, when there's silence, i will sleep comfortably with someone i love very much holding me tightly.
this is one of those long weeks - the 14 days living out of a suitcase when on day 10 I finally finish doing one load of laundry and do my happy dance because i have clean underwear. we had a whirlwind weekend starting last tuesday for my birthday. i woke up with the offer of mimosas and a gift certificate for an hour/half massage, mani/pedi and body wrap - i'm saving it for sometime when i really need such pampering. we dressed for dinner, had a lovely time on state street and just when thing were winding down in bed i reminded him there was still an hour left. next thing you know the champagne was pouring. fabulously luxurious birthday. for his birthday i booked a room at The Pfister in Milwaukee for Friday night because we'd be spending the afternoon/evening at Summerfest and ultimately at the Rush concert. This, I found out the next night at Rhythm and Booms, makes me a kick-ass girlfriend. Especially my little rendition of how Rush sounds. It involves a lot of tongue rolling I cannot demonstrate here. Visit me someday in my car and I'll be happy to give an encore.
i've mentioned here and there that change is hard. maybe i grew up with the idea that things should always be consistent and reliable and that holidays will always involve alcohol and that driving to see the one that i love will always mean that it's pouring rain, snowing, or every semi driver is intent on taking both lanes at exactly 62 m.p.h...
on the morning of 3/25, as my grandmother held his hand, my grandfather took his final breath. with a tear in his eye and the words caught in his throat, he finally rested after months of the kind of pain that comes only with being old. he wasn't sick. just 87. it was a long week and i'm grateful that my family is extraordinary in the way that we know how to comfort each other, say the right things, and hold each other up. I'm glad for the S.O. making it down after i made my way back up from Iowa city, just after leaving from easter weekend. having him there, holding my hand, made it a little more tolerable.
last night i dreamed my other grandfather was also dying when in reality he died when i was almost 6. i have faint memories of him, of being allowed to scamper along the counters and raid the cupboards for whatever breakfast we wanted. we have many pictures of him as well, which seems to have led to a very vivid dream where he was 'going fast', the nurses said, and we had to get to the funeral home. he was lying in his casket, waiting to die. i asked him why and he smiled up at me and said he wanted to get comfortable before moving on. he knew me. recognized me. we all waited in the pews, he'd twitch a leg, and we'd wait a little longer. then he'd get up and come sit by us. reassuring us that he was going to be ok. and that we would too.
it was a strange and beautiful dream all at once but all i could think when i woke up is 'no way work is gonna buy i've got another dead grandfather to bury the week after the last'... and with that sigh of relief i remembered the details more clearly and am somehow glad for them.
there's a point when i'm travelling between MN, and WI, and IA that i wonder what it's all for. and as this is my first 'day' home in almost 3 weeks i question the fact that i've accomplished close to nothing more than half a pack of cigarettes and a full pot of coffee. this afternoon i'm on the road again for the week for work and for what it's worth... i wonder if it's worth it at all. i miss the boy, the sleeping in, the fires in the fireplace and the blankets draped over our bodies in the dark during the movie. i wonder if i still have to pick up my mail or if it's still being held at the post office. i wish the cat didn't think she ran the house but hell, she's the one that's here the most. i wonder how it is that i left with 10 pairs of socks and returned with 2 mismatched by color and style. what bills haven't i paid. do i even know how to get where i'm going on this trip? sometimes i think i'm just going to end up in the wrong city. in the wrong state. and i almost wish it'd happen because right now? i could use a good laugh.
