PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

a real tree..

Sunday, Dec. 08, 2002
does not a real christmas make....

For eleven years I have never seen him cry save for once or twice. Once when Bucky was born and the doctors told us about complications and one other time when I left the house one night after a fight and he didn�t want me to go. That�s been about it�since 1991 when we met. Twice that I can recall.

This weekend�.I have seen him in tears three times. Three times in one weekend!! He says it�s due to his illness and the fact that it�s becoming increasingly more painful and hard to accept and deal with. It�s been 6 months and I guess it�s getting to be trying.

In a fit of a huge conversation that was way too complicated for me to ever explain in words, I said, �well exactly what do you want from me?� The following day he said, �what I want is something I just can�t have from anyone, I want to be well!� It�s all far more than what I�m typing here�. its so much that it makes my head spin and I just can�t�. speak about it without losing my train of thought a thousand times.

In other news, apparently with all the moving that happened earlier this year, the fake Christmas tree that we lugged all over the United States got lost. Yup�lost. Left behind�. unloved. Gone. So tonight for the first time since I was 19, there is a real live tree in the living room. The tree is drinking in his water and the branches are dropping into a natural state or something or other. It�s not decorated yet we�re going to do that tomorrow after work with Bucky.

Today we went to Channelside and spent 2 � hours in Pop City playing all the arcade/video games with Buckster. He had a blast with this one surfing video game that has a real surfboard that you stand on and manipulate yourself. It was nice to get out of the house, spend some time outside of St Pete. I love to go over any bridge, that in it self puts me in a better mood. If I was rich, I�d live right on the water and never feel depressed I bet.

Then we decided to grab something to eat at Westshore Mall. I love that mall, but its one of those malls that the rich people dress up to go shopping at. They drive their Lexus�s and wear gold chains with high heels to walk throughout the overpriced mall. I swear the only thing that was priced the same was the food court and the Starbucks. Everything else was insanely priced. They have a candy store where you can buy M&M�s by the pound for $16.00 per lb. This is insane? Sure is. But someone must not care how they spend their money. If I was a millionaire I wouldn�t spend $16 on a pound of candy.

I did get some Chinese food and I did check out the CD�s and I finally came up with a kewl gift idea (not a CD either!) for the �hard to buy for� person on my list. And I bought a pink dice tongue bar for $6, it feels goofy against the roof of my mouth and this tongue bar makes me seriously think about taking it out again and for good this time. So considering all that I accomplished, it was a profitable trip.

Tonight husband tells Bucky that his disorder has no cure and that he�ll always be physically unable to do the things he did before and that he�s probably going to get one of those handicap stickers for his car. This caused Bucky to cry for about 15 minutes. The sobbing kind of crying. The stuff that as a Mom makes you feel like shit. The worst of it is, there�s nothing you can even begin to say.

I remember when I was my son�s age, my younger brother got diagnosed with Leukemia right around this time of the year. 2 weeks before Christmas. It was totally shitty. And that was my brother, not my Daddy. I can relate to how he feels and what really gets to me is that I am watching all the things that happened to me in my childhood find a way to repeat themselves in my own sons life, and that is all just to hideous for me to cope with at times.

Someone told me I still have feelings for husband. Yeah I probably do. I think if you walk down an isle and make promises to live ever after with that one person then you tend to have some dream in your head that you hope to live out. To lose that dream, is difficult. It�s not like changing your socks. It�s not like moving your TV to a different corner to get a new viewpoint. It�s the most difficult set of circumstances I have ever dealt with.

I can only say I won�t forget the weekend that he cried twice. And I won�t forget spending the entire night he left me without a trace being happy just to talk, just to talk to someone else. I have lots of those memories, of giggling over the phone, exchanging things that never get lost or pawned. Ideas, and thoughts�.he is full of them, and even on repeat they are amazing if you just catch on. I will never explain what I think of conversations that draw pictures into the 5 a.m. hands of the clock.

I am sleepy, stressed, and feeling quite sad. My Christmas�s are never what Norman Rockwell drew them like. Not even close. But I do have a real pine smelling tree right here�so I am still smiling. Just a crooked smile that�s all�.

The news just reported that two 16 yr old boys died in a jet ski incident 5 miles off of the coast of Hudson Beach. Their jet ski got caught on something like string and quit on them. They died from hypothermia. That puts things into perspective now doesn�t it.

-PoeticaL
11:16 p.m. ::
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