How Did I Get Here?

This is what my grandmother asked my mom while sitting at my parents' house.

She spent the night at their house, and my mom suggested she go to bed because it was late and she was falling asleep on the couch. My grandmother turned to my mom and asked, "Where are your bedrooms?"

It might not seem like that odd of a question, but my parents have lived in that house for almost 38 years.

I'm sad.

Pablo Neruda

Around the age of 19, I was introduced to the writings of Pablo Neruda, and to this day, he remains one of my favorite poets of all time. There was something about that time in my life and his passionate writing style that had me hooked. I was longing for love and passion and as I read his poems I would think about all that was possible. Would I ever fall in love? Would anyone ever feel those things for me that Pablo Neruda wrote about? I think his writings shaped the way I viewed love and relationships - I'm not sure if that was good or bad. His words were so powerful, maybe I was setting myself up for disappointment since most men in their early 20's didn't express themselves like that.

I got up early this morning and browsed through our bookshelves. I pulled out my Neruda books and flipped through them - paying close attention to the pages that were still earmarked as my favorites:

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Another favorite (not in its entirety):

In short, without your presences: without your coming
suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,
gust of rosebush, wheat of wind:

since then I am because you are,
since then you are, I am, we are,
and through your love I will be, you will be, we'll be.

And finally, the one I read most often (again, not in its entirety):

My words rained over you, stroking you.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want

to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

An Update and a Meltdown

I did pretty well at work considering the news we received this morning. I figured I'd be a mess. It was stressful and the day felt long - as the hours dragged on I grew tired and restless. I wanted to be home, safe and alone.

I sit here now listening to music and trying to find the right words to express the fear, confusion, and sadness that has crept into my mind. A good friend recently made a musical recommendation - The Decemberists. I'm listening to it now and I can feel the tears develop in my eyes. Is it the music? Is it what happened this morning? If I wasn't alone right now would I still feel this way?

I hate everything that is happening (and now the tears are falling). I need to come back to this post later...

More Bad News

I just received a call from my mom - she never calls during the day while I'm at work, so I knew this was bad. My grandmother has been disoriented and "lost" the last day or so and this morning it got worse. My mom called the doctor who told her that she needs to be admitted to the hospital right away for 2-3 days. They will try to figure out what is happening, but she then will be placed in a nursing home.

Over the past few weeks, we have discussed the possibility of my grandma moving in to an assisted living facility. No one wanted to bring it up to her because she would just say "no", but we all knew that it was necessary - she is not capable of handling daily activities. However, none of us thought that things would happen so fast.

To make matters worse, we are approaching the one-year anniversary of losing my aunt. When my mom called me and I heard her voice crack, I was immediately transported back to those days when my aunt was slipping away. My heart started racing and my head felt funny - kind of tingly.

I know that this is just part of the process of life, but it doesn't mean that I have to like it. I've said mean things about my grandma lately and I feel horrible about it.

Thanks!

When I think about the past two years, I know that there is no way I ever would have gotten through this alone. Financially. Emotionally. Physically. Patrick and I made a good team throughout this whole situation. When I wanted to cry, he made me laugh. When he wanted to scream, I told him everything would be OK. When we both wanted to give up, we'd sit on the couch, watch a movie and pretend it was all over.

So, in this brief post I want to thank him for...well, for everything. For making me laugh. For bringing home as much extra money as he could. For lifting all the heavy stuff in the house. For letting me get pissed and listening to me swear.

Thanks Patrick.