Atomictumor

BJ was always into frames.  She had a collection of frames on her wall, without pictures in them, when I met her.  There was one massive, ornate one, that she had for the longest time.

We moved, and it migrated from the wall, to the top of a dresser.

We moved again, and it ended up under a bed.

We moved again, and it ended up in a box.

We moved again, and it ended up in the attic.

I got it today, to frame a picture from our renewal in.  Its a black and white pic, because thats how BJ wanted the pictures, with her awesome sense of style.  Its framed with BJ and I standing to the right of the shot, looking toward the left, like we’re surveying the horizon.

In reality, I think we were just watching the kids.  But the picture looks great.

Its in the frame now, the first picture good enough to ever reside in it.  We wouldn’t have thought to use that frame before, but now, its perfect.

Nodbob used the same shot, in fact, to paint a gift for us, a minimalist oil painting of us, black and white, with blood red for BJ’s lips, just a trace of it.

Its beautiful.  It was going to be a late gift for us, but it was too late.  Now its a reminder of good times.

—

I’m still not grieving in the traditional sense of the word, but that weight is bearing down on me again.  Its the stress now, I think I’ll be better after tomorrow morning and evening go down (planning a funeral and wake are like planning a wedding and reception, I guess, just, y’know, with dead people), and I’m left again in an empty house, and I can clean it up, and move stuff, and make room, and find stuff.

I’ll come across things that bring back memories.

Today, Nodbob and I created 3 large collages of pictures and art for tomorrow night.  I had to have the numbness up to maximum to make it through, but I did, because I’m determined to.  After this, I can rest.

I have to do this for BJ.  More accurately, I have to do it for the person that we were between the two of us.  I lost BJ, and I lost us.

I don’t know which is the harder blow.

—

Anyway.

—

I hope to see you tomorrow.  If not in body, then pop in and say hi here.  Take from this, what many others have, which is the knowledge that the people you love, the people that matter, are right there.

They’re right there.

Well, its the last day of my life before BJ’s funeral, and I’ve been keeping busy.  Heres the literary for those keeping score:

• 6 AM - Woke up.  Tumor still down.  Laid in bed, pondered.
• 6:45 AM - Read comic books on computer
• 7:30 AM - Got up, ‘tumor still down.  Sighed.  Popped in movie for Pigpen.  Cuddled Pigpen.  Nodbob asleep on couch, KatyK and MastaG asleep in playroom.
• 8:30 AM - Left with Pigpen to Social Security building.  Waited, he played with Spiderman very patiently.
• 9:00 AM - Spoke with worker, said that it would be a several hour wait to talk to somebody about survivor benefits.  Made appointment for 12/6.
• 9:30 AM - Left SSI place, went to funeral home.  Picked out urn for BJ’s ashes.
  Incidentally, we’ve decided to hold off on the diamond thing, which is the decision I would have made anyway.  Seriously, don’t give me advice not to do that kinda stuff, folks, it just reinforces my urge to do it for spite.
  Anyway, I picked out a nice urn for BJ.  Its one that BJ’s mom should like, instead of one that BJ would like, which seems appropriate to me.  It has a handpainted clock on it.  Not my taste, but neither is keeping her ashes.  It’d be, to me, like keeping a bottle of urine, or something.
• 10:30 AM - Treated Pigpen to Chik-fil-a for being such a great boy.  He enjoyed his food, and played on the playground for a good hour.
• 11:30 AM - Nodbob, MastaG, and KatyK drove BJ’s van to Chik-fil-a, and ate.
• 12:00 PM - Traveled to Staples, arranged for pictures to be blown up.  Purchased supplies for celebratory wake at Barleys.  Left my car at Chik-Fil-A, shhh.
• 1:00 PM - Got home.  Popped Pigpen in bed, he played himself pretty tired, and was yelling.  He went down like a good boy.
• 1:30 - 4:00 PM - Worked with Pigpen to create stuff for celebratory wake.  Seriously, we made some cool stuff.  BJ would be proud.  I look forward to seeing it.  It’ll be INTERACTIVE, like an old 90’s PC.
• 4:00 PM - Took kids and Nodbob to skate park.
• 5:00 PM - Came home, started writing post.  Well, more like 5:30.  Anyway.

So, we’re going to eat with Mom, Aunt Nun, and my aunt Jenny, who I don’t think filled out the proper paperwork for a special internet name.  She’s GBScientist’s mom, for those keeping track.

I’m staring off into space a lot today.  I’m tired.  I’m sore.

Time to eat.  Adios.

So, last night, evidently the ‘tumor didn’t care for my being in a bad mood.  Due to a variety of reasons, all of which ending and starting with “… because I’m a dumbass,” I broke Wordpress.

Thanks to the potent comptuer skillz of my man, Johnny Dobbins, we’re back online and alive.

I back posted something I wrote last night, and it’ll appear underneath this one in a minute.

We’re back!

Man…

The damn website is busted.

I was trying to be all fancy and work some PHP magic, and it totally blew up in my face.  I don’t have the back end access to the server that Johnny Dobbins turned me onto to accomodate all of the traffic we’ve had this month, so I can’t just nip in there and fix it.

And Johnnys doing a well deserved thanksgiving thing, so we’re just all going to have to get along without the ‘tumor for now.

Well, bully.

—

That turkey soma got me all irritated, so I vented at some people, and feel better now.  Tomorrow I have to get everything ready for BJ’s funeral, and this evening has been a time that it just doesn’t seem real.

BJ’s funeral.  Say it with me now!

She was fine a month ago, and Saturday we get to go to her funeral, and never see her again.  Its almost fun to say, because the words just bounce around meaninglessly.  Its like, I almost like to break that taboo about it, just by, when telling a story about BJ, I say “Before BJ died, …”.  People seem to take it well, so it works out.

Its weird.  If this were a friend of mine, I’d be torn up.  I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I’d be stressing about what I can do. but since I’m in the eye of this hurricane, its like I want to stick a post out and see how fast the wind is going.

Or something like that.

However, I’m of a thinking that Saturday morning will be an ordeal.  People all gathered together for the purpose of being somber and sad.

Seems to me that the rest of my life is going to entail that stuff, and that what we need to do is get together and try to have a good time, just so we can remember what a good time was.

But, I’m different than lotsa folks, which might explain why BJ and I got along so well.  She was pretty different too.

Now, she’s just like all the other dead people.  Except when she’s being a little ghost.

—

I touched her keys, that have been sitting on the computer desk (unused by me since I got the laptop), and got the biggest feeling of BJ around me.  Like she was there, but just a feeling.  Fog.  Something like that.  Anyway, it sure makes me feel better.

Not that I really need it, evidently.  Other than the odd moments of staring out the window, MastaG style, I’m not feeling much pain.  I’m OK with that, still. Sometimes, like a cold sore, I want to poke that numb spot, but mostly not.

—

I’m writing this, BTW, at 12:30 AM, well after I should be asleep, with the laptop on my lap in our bed.  My bed.  Thats something else thats odd about this, is that I’ve suddenly taken full custody of all of our crap.  Its neat, in a materialistic way, but it sucks, in an I’d trade it all for her way.  Whatcha gonna do?

Also, I found out that we’re evidently able to get a little green from Uncle Sam, on account of I’m a widower with kids.

Man, I hate that word ‘widower’.  I’ve always thought that it looks an awfully like an adverb or something of widow.  Am I a widow in action, or just somebody who utilizes widows?  For what purpose?  Are they minty fresh?

—

Hell man, I need to go to sleep.  Sure wish the damn website was working.  Course, by now, it is, which is the goofy thing about time delaying real time stuff.  Or something.  Like listening to a game on the radio 30 seconds before the TV shows the same action.

One thing about writing these text posts, in notepad like this, is that theres plenty of room for the pic of BJ to look at me.  She sure is a sweet little critter.  I told her stuff like that every day.  Every single day.  I’d panic at work if I realized I left without giving her a kiss.  We lived a damn good life.

And it could have been worse.  She could be awake, missing fingers and toes, and God knows what in her head.  She could be angry, and bitter, and not want that life that I prayed so hard for her to have.

She’s free from pain, and fear.  There truly is nothing to fear and nothing to doubt for her.  I never really subscribed to the mantra, because I do think that there is fear and doubt.  Theres everything to fear and doubt.

But theres everything to love, and cherish.  So, its a toss up.

Anyway, I’m out.  Happy turkey day (that was 30 minutes ago), and I’ll see some of you tomorrow.  Course, you’ll hear from me before then.

Night.

(I love you, little critter)