Happy Birthday Heather

Facebook reminded me that today is Heather's birthday. I am the self-proclaimed Queen of Birthdays. I love them. I love celebrating them, I love finding the perfect card, I love decorating people's offices, and I love baking. I rarely, if ever, forget a friend's birthday. Except Heather. I don't know why, but I've always had a mental block when it came to her. Last year I woke up in a panic that morning because I'd completely forgotten. This time it snuck up on me too. I kind of wish I'd not logged onto Facebook at all today... now I miss her all the more. Her husband is keeping her account active- which I think is good. But every once in awhile he'll change her profile picture, or add something else. It kind of breaks my heart everytime I see her name when I log in. It's like in that fleeting moment, I've forgotten that she's died.

I didn't realize her death would hit me this hard. I find myself still picking up the phone to send her a text message. I want to call her and tell her to pray about the whole job search thing. I miss going through it without her- Heather was overbearing sometimes, but she definitely was the one person you could count on to keep track of you. After I was laid off, she was one of the few people who made sure I wasn't forgotten. Which is kind of why I'm kicking myself that I forgot her birthday, yet again.

So when I pick Rachel up from school today, we are heading straight to Starbucks. Heather loved coffee as much as I do. We'd argue over whose turn it was to make the next pot of flavored coffee. When I smell it, I think of her. So I am going to get the biggest coffee they have, load it up with flavor shots, and toast my beloved friend. I only wish she was here to share it.

Happy Birthday Heather- I miss you.

Munchkin

Laurie and I spent the weekend at the beach. She had off yesterday, Rachel was spending the weekend with her dad, so Uncle John and Teri invited us to the beach house for the weekend. It started off great. Until Saturday morning when Laurie got a call from one of our neighbors- she'd hit our cat Munchkin. Munchkin's 19... and he has a bad habit of walking in front of our cars. Our neighbor was backing up, saw him, and stopped. I guess she thought he'd moved, but she ended up backing over his leg. So she called asking Laurie where to take him to the vet. We figured worst case scenario was that he'd have to be in a cast. But then the vet called and said he'd fractured his leg in three places, but that his bladder had ruptured and he was bleeding internally. At his age, he wouldn't have survived any kind of surgery, so we had to put him down. Laurie was so distraught. Rachel and her dad went to the vet and they were with him when they put him to sleep. Then they buried him in our backyard.

I felt so bad for Laurie. I think this is only the second time I've ever seen her really cry. And it's such a helpless feeling, because you know that there is absolutely nothing you can say to make it better. She finally told me on Monday morning that she feels so guilty for going to the beach. That maybe if we had stayed home, Munchkin wouldn't have been hit. I wanted to tell her not to feel guilty. That even if our neighbor hadn't hit him this weekend, it could have very well been one of us that did. I wanted to tell her that there was no way she could have known this would happen. But I couldn't... because I know what it's like to struggle with that kind of "what if" guilt. And I'm telling you- it's the worst kind. I know what it's like to drive yourself nuts with "if only I had done this" or "if only I'd said that". And I know what it feels like to hear people tell you that you can't blame yourself. Even though you know it's not your fault... you can't change that feeling. And people telling you not to feel that way doesn't make it easier. But at the same time, I hate seeing Laurie struggle with those feelings.

When we got home, Adam had buried Munchkin too close to the pond in our backyard. The pond floods when it rains, and Laurie was worrying about something happening to his grave. Not only that, but he was also in the middle of the yard. I swear, men don't think things through. She wanted him buried on higher ground and closer to the fence. Someplace where we could put a little marker or something. And someplace where he wouldn't be walked over, or mowed over in the summer. Then she started crying, saying she didn't think she'd be able to move him herself. I told her I'd do it. She didn't want me to, she was afraid it'd be too hard on me too. But I insisted. Laurie and I are alike in alot of ways- stubborness being one of them. But I think I have her beat. I don't often put my foot down, but I out-stubborned her last night.

I managed to do it this morning. It was hard- I've never had to bury a pet before. Once I got the new hole dug, I had to un-dig the first grave. As soon as I sunk my shovel into the ground, it was a muddy mess. I was so angry at Adam- why on earth did he bury him in the mud? I swear men don't think. I was afraid to keep using the shovel... I didn't want to hit the box. So I dug him out by hand. By that point, I didn't think I could do it. I was afraid of what I'd see when I got to the box. I didn't think I could pull him out of the ground. But even though the last thing I wanted to do was unbury this little cat, the memory of the look on Laurie's face was somehow harder to bear. It's funny how you can find the strength to do the impossible for the people you love most. And fury has a way of motivating you too. Let me just say it's a good thing Adam wasn't anywhere near my shovel at the moment.

I miss that little cat too. It's awfully quiet around here without him. Even though I've only been here for a few months, I've been coming to Lauren's for the last five years. I got attached to the little guy. I came home this afternoon, and really missed him trotting out to greet me at my car.

But mostly my heart hurts for Laurie. I'm probably driving her nuts with my hovering. I've never seen Lauren this sad, and it's a terribly helpless feeling to watch someone go through it. People who aren't animal people don't always understand how attached you can get. But they really are like family. Even though it's not the same, watching her reminds me a little of what I went through with Emily. Grief is grief- and it doesn't always have to be for a person.

*sigh*

Winter ~ Wordless Wednesday

The winter blues....

Well it's hit me once again... the post-holiday depression.

The lights in the neighborhood are coming down... radio stations have long since stopped playing Christmas music...Christmas trees are lying discarded on the curbside... ours is still up, but I think there may be more pine needles on the floor than on the tree. It's January, and somehow this is the time when winter seems longest. Rachel's back in school.. Lauren's back at work... and I'm back to only having the cats to talk to while I spend what feels like an eternity job hunting on the computer.

I am officially down in the dumps.

Maybe it's the typical holiday let down. Maybe it's all the worries and stresses I pushed away during the holidays crashing back in all at once. Maybe it's missing Emily. Maybe it's simple lonlieness. Maybe it's a combination of all of the above.

And it's hard to even try and explain it to someone. How can you expect words that will help when you can't even articulate what exactly it is you want help with? I'm even having trouble finding the right words to even try and pray about it.

I suppose my biggest worry is finding a job. It was easy to not dwell on it with all the holiday hoopla. But now that it's over, the worry is back. I honestly didn't expect it would take this long to find a job. I suppose I naively assumed that it would all turn out exactly as I imagined, that I'd find the perfect job, discover what exactly it is I want to be when I grow up, and life would just march happily along. Well it's been almost six months since I was laid off, almost three months since I moved, and here I still sit. Perhaps God's trying to teach me patience. I think I'm failing miserably at patience and I'm getting an ulcer from worrying instead.

And now I'm stuck trying to find a way to even end this post. Phrases like "something will turn up soon", or "the right job is out there" and things like that are running through my mind. But they don't really help. Not when you're in this kind of mind set.

So I think instead I am done with the computer for today. I shall toss my "lose 10 pounds" resolution right out of the window and break into the stash of Christmas cookies and curl up with one of my new books.

Perhaps things will look better tomorrow.