What could have been said.

I swear, when I can’t sleep at night, I should just hop on here and go to town. I was up last night thinking of things to write, you know, for my someday book (now entitled The Bravest One).

BB didn’t attend church regularly. Never really had. In fact, when we met to discuss funeral arrangements the guy (incidentally someone BB went to high school with), asked about BB’s religious beliefs, etc. My “other mom” piped in that that was something I would be more familiar with. Hmm.  We didn’t really have any personal people to perform the eulogy for us. I think how it actually ended up happening was that there was a minister of a local church that somehow was also connected to the police department. He was the one who did the eulogy. I can’t remember a darn word he said.

When he was done, someone asked me if I wanted to go up there and say something. Did they actually say something? Anything? Because when you think about it, something and anything are quite different.

I declined.

Brotherman, BB’s elder brother by six years, “took the stand”, talked about him, ripped on me a little and then BB’s boss, one of my best friend’s uncles, took the stage. I can’t remember much of that either.

As I am laying there last night I was thinking of who sat where and so forth. I remember being on the inside edge of the front row directly in front of the casket. To my left were BB’s parents followed by his siblings and their significant others. I think, my mom was right behind me sitting next to BB’s paternal grandparents. To my right and filling about the entire half of that side of the room were BB’s fellow officers. What a day to live in the city they represented. Sure local agencies were covering emergencies and so forth but HELLO speeders galore.

I chose to say nothing. Knowing if I got up there I would faint from the pressure, nerves of being in front of so many people and the sheer fact that I was standing in front of my BB who laid so still.

This all reminded me that at anytime I can remedy this and in fact realized that I have been trying for years. One day I hope to have the time, energy and the emotional reserves needed to jump up there center stage and have my say.

It will go a little something like this…

I adore you.

I have loved you, probably not from the moment we met, but shortly there after.

I have lived the greatest years of my life with you and really wish we could have grown old together.

Your presence in my life has made me a different person, teaching me about kindness, stability and a kind of love that not even death can shake…

To be continued.

When Hell Froze Over.

Picture it. Fall 2001.

BB died. Yeah, yeah.

The next day, my dad arrives at my house from out of state with his wife (who is not my mother).

Simply put, my mom and dad have a very strong relationship.

They are linked by my brother, myself and a thick cable of hatred.

I bet you know the type.

I don’t remember who else was at my house when they arrived. I just know I had on baby blue sheep pajamas, BB’s fisherman hat and that my mom was also at my house. Mark this as a super special occasion in my life. The only time they had been “together” that I could ever remember was at our wedding 6 weeks previous. That was an especially tense day and the wonderful state that is death made this time even better.

Who would have guessed that my parents would ever be in the same house together, (mine!), EVER.

I don’t remember much else about that day. But I do recall the following weekends how my dad and his other half would drive up and help me at the house. I know they assisted with other stuff but yard work was the thing that sticks out in my brain. Remember the GRASS post? One significant day, I think the week of the funeral, we (mom, brother, dad, stepper and myself) were “alone” together at my house. They were raking.

My mom later told me a few interesting things about this time in our lives.

1- my brother came out the day after BB died (good timing, idiot)

2- my dad said something to her like “so, I guess Hell finally froze over…” I am sure this dates back to a conversation they had in my childhood that I am not aware of but you get the point.

I think what really happened was that Hell got lukewarm but heated back up later that year. Things have been back to “normal” ever since.

The real reason for this particular post was two-fold.

One, I had a dream about BB. He was in jail… I am dreaming metaphorically these days I guess. The “charges” were dropped and just as I was about to call my lawyer to get him out of jail, he and his dad show up at our (BB and mine) house.  Interesting.

Two, sometime in the fall of 2001, after the hubbub died down (no pun intended). I remember being on my porch looking at the annoying plants and talking on the phone to my dad. He had started to call daily after BB died… That too ended. Anyhoot… he was telling me that his fav aunt had passed away. I never really knew/know his side of the family. He was saying something like he expected me to attend the viewing/funeral in his place or something like that. I was flabbergasted as back in the day and years following pretty much any mention of funeral homes, hospitals, etc. made me get all shaky/hyperventilaty feeling. I told him in no way would I do that and that it was just too soon.

He quickly remembered what trauma I was going through (how could you forget?) and backpedaled out of that conversation really quickly.

It is not like I wouldn’t typically do something like that for someone. I will do a lot for those I care for. Everybody has limits though and back then I was learning how to redefine all of mine.

I hate being forced to do crap like that.

Stupid death. Stupid selfish people. Stupid Stupid Stupid.