Nervous

In a few hours, I will meet my friend Nicole's mother, Cathy, for the first time. I am also going to meet Grant for the first time as well. I am not nervous about meeting Grant at all. But I am scared I will cry when I meet Cathy. In fact, I am quite certain I will.

After meeting up with Grant at his hotel, we will drive to Nicole's house in San Jose. I will be in the house that Nicole grew up in. I will sit on the same furniture that she one sat on...be in the same rooms that she once laughed in, cried in, and lived in. I might even drink from the same glasses that she once drank from. I will probably shake her mom's hand and/or even hug her at some point today. None of these things scare me and they shouldn't make me nervous but they do.

I don't want to cry or look like a sissy lala but how can I not cry when I talk about Nicole? Especially when I'm talking to the woman that brought her into this world? There is no doubt in my mind that she'll ask me how I met her daughter and maybe even what my favorite memory of her is. I don't want to sound foolish when I tell her that my favorite memory is one I have after she passed away. But I will tell her and I will most likely than not cry. Not because I'm sad but because it was her daughter's memory that gave me the strength and courage to leave Erik. That it was Nicole's voice I heard when I blacked out...that it was her daughter who, even in death, made everything seem like it'd be alright.

Nicole was a special person. I knew that the moment I laid eyes on her 11 years ago. Seeing her smile was like the sun on my heart. Some how I have the feeling that I will get the same sensation when I meet Cathy in a couple of hours. And that makes my heart smile. Maybe not as bright as when I first met Nicole, but I am sure I will smile just the same.

I am going to try to get a little bit of sleep now so I don't look like too much of a zombie when I meet Grant and Cathy tomorrow. Wish me luck...hopefully I won't cry too much.

Familiar places...

I was driving with Jessica and Auntie Mary a couple of months ago. We had to drop off some documents at West Valley Community Services. As I walked out of the building, I immediately felt a sense of deja vu. I got into the car and we drove out of the parking lot. I started to feel anxious and I could not for the life of me understand why.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks when we're sitting at the light waiting to turn why I'm suddenly feeling so anxious and overwhelmed...why I was felt as if I was about to vomit...why I suddenly had tears in my eyes and why I felt like my head was going to explode. I looked to the left and saw a fire station. Erik built it over 10 years ago. He used to bring me work with him. Then after work, we'd go across the street to Chili's for cocktails and dinner. This was where I first met Nicole Miller and it is also the last place I saw her before September 11, 2001.

For the past few months, I have been thinking about Nicole and what kind of person she was. And all I really know is that she was probably, hands down, the only person I have ever met in my life that had such a presence. This might sound lame but when she walked into a room, it lit up. She had an aura about her that was so positive and bubbly it naturally rubbed off on everyone she came in contact with. She was the kind of person that was always happy; therefore she wanted those around her to be too. She was, as I once told my therapist, "sparkly...like a holiday."

Nicole was beautiful and happy and always had a smile for everyone. She was kind and compassionate and somehow seeing her always made the darkest day seem bright. Erik and I could be fighting like crazy yet when we'd walk into Chili's and I'd see her, she made everything feel like it was all going to be okay. I miss that so much. And, to be honest, I could really use that right about now.

In a couple of months, it was be 10 years since I last saw Nicole in the parking lot of Chili's. This year, on September 11th, it will have been ten years since I've heard her laughter...3,555 days since she flashed her movie star smile at me...85, 320 hours since I felt the warmth of her embrace...5,119,200 minutes since that beautiful light was extinguished...307,152,000 seconds that I've missed her. 

There hasn't been a day since September 14, 2001, in which I haven't thought about her. Some days, though, I just miss her so much it hurts. Today is one of those days. I could really use that sparkly like a holiday cheer right about now.

I take comfort knowing I will see you again, my friend. I love you. Until then...Rest in Peace, sweet Nicole.  

What time does my freakin' shift end, beeeeeeeeeotch?!

I get up pretty early in the morning. Not because I want to wake up early but because that's when my job starts. I am an in-home caregiver/companion/roommate to a 92 year old Serbian gem named Anna*. I guess I am what you'd call her PRIMARY caregiver. There is someone who is, for want of a better word, my backup. That someone is named Kellie*. And then there's Bojana*, Anna's niece/my best friend/my boss.

Until recently, it was just me doing the care. When I started working for the family back in September 2010, there had been another lady taking care of Anna. Things didn't work out so Bojana took the job on. I was somehow tossed into the mix and here I am 10 months later. Bojana does the administrative stuff and I do the taking care of part. It's worked out pretty good until about a month and a half ago when Anna took a turn for the worse.

The past 6 -7 weeks have been crazy, to say the least. Bojana and I finally agreed that there's no way we could care for Anna without help from a third party. We took this to the head of the family, Chris. He is Bojana's older brother. After much thought, we brought in Kellie.

This is where it starts to get sorta fucked up for me.

Even though I have "backup" now, I still spend pretty much 24 hours a day with Anna. She is pretty much bedridden indefinitely so she relies on me for everything...to bathe her, to cook for her, make her bed, change her Depends (Numbers 1 & 2), tuck her in at night, cut her fingernails, rub her legs, administer her medication, etc. Since she has been in bed for the last month or so, she obviously has to have someone with her 24/7. She cannot be left alone. Therefore I get no time to myself. I can't go to the store or to the library or on a date or to the movies or anywhere else for that matter.

Which poses a HUGE problem especially when I see everyone else doing what they want. Going shopping or to visit friends or to run errands are things I do not get to do anymore. And it sucks.

Take the last few days for instance. I've been pretty much doing all the caregiving, housework, cooking, etc. Yes, Bojana and Kellie help - a little. But for the most part, I'm the one who gets up with Anna in the morning and middle of the night. Yet I am the one who doesn't have a bed. I am the one who does not get to leave the house for days on end. I am the one with no life.

Bojana and I had words just the other day. She told me that she no one helps her. She does EVERYTHING and I do nothing. I just looked at her and asked "You're not serious, are you? I don't help you?" She looked me dead in the eye and said "No, you don't." It was after that argument that we realized how stressed we were. So a couple of days ago, the 3 of us decided we needed a schedule of sorts.

Since Bojana and Kellie are late sleepers, guess who gets to wake up at the crack of dawn? Bingo! Me. Not that I mind but when my co-workers sleep until 3 or 4 pm, I tend to get a little hot under the collar.

Hello?! Do you think either of them stop to think that I might want to sleep in? Oh no. Norma loves getting up at the crack of dawn while she'd rather be sleeping...she'd like to not have to worry about pissy and/or shitted Depends, morning meds and straightening up someone's bedding...she'd like to be the one that gets to sleep on a REAL mattress or even that air mattress in the other room behind a closed door instead of on a lumpy ass couch in a freezing ass living room right outside of Anna's bedroom.

I could be wrong here but I do 92-95% of the care around here. I care for Anna, clean up the house, cook, and do other miscellaneous things. Things that my "backup" could do in lieu of the shitty Depends or any of the other things I don't exactly like to do.

Tonight when Bojana and Chris returned from Costco, Jonesy and I unloaded the truck. Bojana brought in a couple of things then disappeared into her room. Guess who got to put the majority of things away...Bingo! Me. Bojana reappeared as I was just about to put the meats away. She said she'd do it. I had mentioned I would fry chicken after she was done as she had stuff all over the counter and stove. I went outside to smoke a cigarette with Jonesy. When I went back inside, I was met with Bojana's acid tongue. "Did you forget she needs to eat dinner? When were you going to feed her? You've been gone for 45 minutes. It's 8:15! Oh and I think she's calling you." I bit my tongue. It had only been 30 minutes and did she forget I'd been on the clock since 7 am?! It was painfully obvious to me that she had.

I went to Anna's room, changed her and got her ready for bed. When I went to take the garbage out, Bojana told me that tomorrow was Kellie's day. That she would be gettting up early and I wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

Uh yeah. What I want to know is...when does my freakin' shift end?!!!

*names have been changed for privacy

Once Upon A Time...

I'm not sure what made me click on Kevin's profile that morning. It could have been just be curiosity. Curiosity stemming from the fact that there was a woman standing with him in his profile picture? Yes, I have to be honest here - that's what made me look. But not because I still had feelings for him. I'll be perfectly truthful here, I didn't feel much of anything when I looked at his pictures. I felt nothing except...well, I'm not quite sure what to call it.

As I looked at the photos of him on his facebook profile, I barely saw the Kevin I met 22 years ago. In fact, I didn't see that Kevin at all. The All-American surfer boy was gone replaced by a tattooed man who looks hardened by life. Nothing remained of the boy I fell in love with. It made me sad - the realization that I don't even know him anymore - because at one point in my life I loved him very much. The weird thing about all of this was the fact that I hardly ever think about him anymore. Hell, I don't even think of him when I look at our son, Christian. And that's just sad.

It made me wonder if somewhere down the road maybe I will eventually end up doing the same thing when I think of Erik or Steve. I wondered if they would also fade from my memory the way Kevin had. I felt an emptiness when I realize that someone who once meant so much to me...well, that he never crosses my mind except if I hear someone mention his name. Or if, by chance, I hear a song that reminds me of our time together. But barring that, Kevin never crosses my mind.

When I looked at his photos that day, I noticed that one was taken on Father's Day. He was on a beach with a little girl who is probably about 9 years old. I assumed that she was his daughter, Alexis. As I looked at the picture, I felt slightly detatched. I wondered why I wasn't angry or hurt by this photo because when I stopped to think about it, I had only one photo of Christian and Kevin. But the photo was long gone as Erik destroyed it years ago. So the only anger I felt was directed at Erik for destroying the one thing Christian had of Kevin.

I thought about all the Father's Days that had come and gone...the ones where I always made sure Christian and I had Kevin cards and/or presents...we gave them even if we hadn't spoken to or seen him in months. I used to tell him that one day he wasn't going to get anything from Christian and I. That it'd be no one's fault but his own. He'd just give me that look, then say "Hmmmmph...yeah whatever...shut the fuck up."

After giving it much thought, I decided that I am going to shut the fuck up. Not because he told me to but because I want to...for our son Christian but most of all for myself. By shutting the fuck up, I want him to know that I harbor no ill will towards him nor do I hate him. I don't love him anymore. Do I still care for him? Maybe. But not in the sense that I think we could ever be together again because when I stop to think about it, I don't even know why I was with him in the first place. I still care for him because a long time ago, I did love him very very much. And despite everything, I cannot act like our time together did not exist. Because it did. And nothing either one of us says or does will ever change that. I guess I just want him to know that I don't want anything bad to ever happen to him. I won't bad mouth him even if I have a reason to. I just don't have it in me anymore.

Maybe I just forgive people too easy. Especially people that really don't deserve to be forgiven. I guess I'm writing this because I finally realized that I forgive not only Kevin but also myself. It's the only way I'll be able to let go so that I can finally move on.

It won't take away the times that we hurt each other nor does it make the pain go away. Those things happened and we cannot change them. But what's done is done. And life is too short for me to be pissed off at him anymore. Pissed off for the things that we could and should have done...for the things we said and didn't say...for so many things that really don't matter anymore. I just want for move forward with my life and I want the same for Kevin too.

A long time ago, on July 5, 1988, I met a boy named Kevin. Over the years, many things happened and we lost touch. I am not sure what he's doing now - I'm not sure it even matters anymore - but I hope that wherever life has taken him and whatever he is doing today, I pray that he is okay. I wish only the best for him...I really do.