I’m getting married! We have 59 days left to go. It’s been so hard without you here to bounce ideas off of. You’re going to be represented in small, but obvious ways. My dress, OMG my dress. It’s amazing! It’s light and airy, and GREY. Grey, the color that represents lung disease awareness. I didn’t even realize it until my dress was in my arms.
The flowers were another happy accident. Lilacs, roses, lilies, hydrangeas. All flowers I know you loved. It was almost like you’d been guiding my hand as I picked them out. I’m even using eucalyptus as filler, because the smell relaxes me because you always had a eucalyptus spray sitting on the fireplace when I was growing up. Small things my fiance’s family won’t think twice about, but our side will definitely see it.
My necklace is doubled-stranded, with two open filigree lockets. One locket has your birthstone, the other has my fiance’s. I attached another locket to dad’s boutoneer with both of your birthstones inside.
But mom, things are going sideways. My fiance’s family is driving me bat shit insane. His mom claims it’s our wedding, and tells us to do what we want, but then turns around and puts down all of our ideas. Sunday, she even questioned why I want to wear boots. Mom, the wedding is a rustic/country theme. of course I want to wear cowboy boots. It’s part of who I am.
His brother’s wife is trying to pretend they’re part of the bridal party. She’s trying to have her and her husband match us. It’s annoying, but far from the end of the world. I’ll just make sure the photographer keeps them on the outside of group photos. His mom did, however, ask if I had a preference as to what color she wears. I told her anything but grey or pale pink, as that’s what my MOH and I are wearing. I’m hoping that gets spread through the family. I told my fiancé and added that I hope she realizes white is included in that. He said he hopes so, too. Even he knows you don’t wear white to someone else’s wedding.
As our wedding day inches nearer, I’m missing you more and more. I’ve ugly cried more than once. You may not be there physically, but I’ll make damn sure you’ll be there spiritually.
What a fucking weekend…
Plans canceled last minute, a surprise visit from my uncle, a random friend request from my XH…
I’d had plans with my father to take Z top an annual event I hadn’t been too since 2001. We’ve had these plans since March. To the point of rearranging Z’s visitation with his father so we could make it to said event…
He canceled last minute. And since Finn had to work, Z and I had no other way to make it there. Only to find out when I called my dad to let him know my uncle was pulling into my neighborhood he went to said event without me or Z. I was heartbroken. I haven’t let Z know.
The reason for my uncle’s visit? He left his wife. Some shit has been going on behind the scenes. The biggest one is that a paternity test proved that his 13 year old daughter isn’t his. On top of that, his wife of 20 years caused him too lose his SSI, takes their car to haul their neighbours to and from the store and appointments, causing him to miss his own appointments. Doctors, therapists, psychologists. We have a trifecta of abuse: medical neglect, emotional abuse, AND psychological abuse. My uncle is diagnosed bipolar, and she’s preventing him from getting his necessary medications for it.
While my uncle was here, I get a phone call from FMIL (future mother-in-law, Finn’s mom) to cancel the cookout we’d been invited to yesterday.
Why? Because they suddenly had to tear up their carpet to install hardwood floors. There wouldn’t be enough room for everyone. Oh, but of course, they wanted Finn there to help.
I. Lost. It. It felt as though Z and I were unwanted and unwelcome. As I’ve told Finn, little things add up. They constantly cancel last minute, or refuse to come to any event we have at our place.
Finn didn’t go yesterday. He tried calling both his mom & dad, but neither answered. He didn’t leave a message for either.
I had an emotional breakdown yesterday. After Saturday’s events, I told Finn I was feeling unwanted and rejected by both sets of parents. I was already emotionally on edge, so it caused an argument. He said I was making a mountain out of a mole hill. I told him little things add up.
I was trying to calm myself, so I started playing with my hair. When I looked in the mirror, I saw my mom’s face. I look just like my mom. I’ve already been missing her and thinking of her daily, so add in the extra emotional stuff from Saturday, plus the anniversary of her passing coming up quick, and it was just a disaster waiting to happen.
Photo of your handwriting
I’m the only one of my Mom’s five children that went all the way through school and actually graduate with a high school diploma. Two of my siblings got their GED.
Meaning behind my blog name…
Starting Fresh. I’m in the process of completely rebuilding my life after failed marriage #2.
I collect angels. It’s something I got from my mom. I have most of the angels she collected.
I also used to collect frogs, but due to way too many moves, I’ve lost the majority of them.
Today would have been my Mom’s 64th birthday. It’s hard to believe she’s been gone five years now. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her.
I’m trying not to let what today means get me down. So far, so good. Today’s also a day of celebration. E ended a bad relationship, and today marks five months since Scott and I shared our first kiss.
In some ways, it doesn’t feel nearly that long, but in others, it feels so much longer. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, though. I think a lot of that has to do with how quickly things moved in that first week. It felt as though we had the first few months of our relationship in just one week. Meeting, our first kiss, the first ‘I love you’s, a mini crisis, him giving me a claddagh ring and necklace (OMG!! I looked up the meaning later), and moving in with him.
Yes, all of that happened in a week.
Scott’s not erasing the hurt that today brings, but cushioning it. I can snuggle up in his arms and feel his heartbeat and know I’m home. When he kisses my cheek, I wonder what my mom would think of he and I together. I wonder if she’d remember him, the way I do. I wonder if she’d be happy for me. I wish heaven had a phone so I could ask her all these things.