And I thought I was fat

Well, I'm depressed. I was just going through my drawer here at work, trying to clean up my space when I stumbled upon this picture of me when I was on a long holiday in Mykonos.

I was 21 and convinced that I was around the biggest thing in the world and not that pretty to boot!

If I knew what gravity and working 60 hours a week could do to a body I would have smacked myself hard in the face and told me to live more.

I guess, this should be a real wake up call for me to get off my ass and back to the gym.

Another Friday

Well this week has been interesting... unfortunately. My brother-in-law last week broke his left femur and elbow in a bicycle accident where most details are still not known. Yesterday he went home, after spending a week at the hospital. This means that the 7 minutes I see of my husband a day are not enough, as he tries to juggle work, friends and helping take care of his brother. I'm definately on the back burner right now.
I understand and agree that he needs to spend time with his brother and help out his family in any way that he can. It's quieting the emotional side of me, who is getting irritated that I really don't get any time with the happy-full-of-energy-Dan, but I get the tired-and-just-needs-a-break-from-life-for-awhile-Dan.
Today he took the day off to help out his father and brother so his mom could get a break for a day, since they haven't done anything but sit at a hospital since the accident.
I'm also fanitsizing about what chores I'm going to do tomorrow, since Dan will have to go to work at 5:00 tomorrow morning. There's the gym, which I desperately need to get back into my routine, laundry, dog beds, take dogs to the park then walk them, vacuum, dust, finish earrings for co-workers, etc. I just don't know what order to put everything in order to maximize the amount of time I have to do everything.
A month ago, I had signed up for a class and it's coming up this next week, however, my desire to learn this, is completely gone and I'm trying to think of ways to get out of it. I'm really tempted to use my grandmother's death as an excuse and let them know that we're holding a family memorial for her at the same time. Death seems to be the one thing that most people can use to get out of things. My grandma would just shake her head in mock horror if she was alive, so I doubt that she would care.
Weird things were afoot at our house last night. At 2:17 the tv turned on in our spare bedroom and the volume went up. I kind of noticed it, but Dan really did and it jarred him. He came in and woke me up to make sure that I hadn't gone into the room, turned on the tv and then went back to bed. I promised him that I hadn't. Then 40 minutes later my dream from the day before reappeared and there was a stranger in our house, wondering around. Dan also sensed it and went from room to room trying to find someone. If we took any kind of drug, we could blame the night on that, but we don't even take aspirin unless we have a headache. So for the remainder of the night we went from room to room, independently sleeping on sofas, trying to relax enough to get back to bed and back to sleep. If there is an inheritance, an alarm system may be a wise investment.

Yesterday was the memorial for my grandma. At home, memorial flowers from my company are in my kitchen counter.
The memorial was nice, it seemed more an advertisement for Royal Oaks, PEO and the Daz`e shop where she volunteered. The minister said that she endured her time till she could get into Royal Oaks - that hurt and made me think that I was a hindrance to her during the four years we lived together. My father disagrees and thinks I'm too sensitive, but that's how I interpreted the message. I also told him what grandma had said about Chris and my dad said that grandma really wasn't there near the end. The kind, always happy woman wasn't there, I know that. But I've always thought that death was sort of like a truth serum, where there's nothing to loose, not that there's no more life left.
I'm going to try to forget about the last couple times I saw grandma, even though they were my last images, they weren't the ones of what I want to remember.
Well, my cousin Peggy is looking for her inheritance. I guess, to an extent we all are, she's just being much more vocal than I would ever be. I did tell the little bit that I know. Mom and aunt Marlyn are getting 40% each and the rest is going to my uncles four daughters. I doubt I'll get anything at all, even though I can easily think about spending 10k on home improvements.
Speaking of home improvements. Last week the air went out and it was driving me crazy so I called and I know have air. Also, my wonderful father-in-law was perfect and helped my husband figure out what was wrong with the kitchen sink and now I have a sink that doesn't drip every 5 seconds or less (the guilt of a drippy faucet brought me to tears more than I'd care to admit).
Yesterday after the funeral, I sat in the pool for two hours read and played with the dogs. After the two hours I got no additional color. None. I think I'm about as tan as I can get without really hurting my skin.
So, there's little else to report. I'm back in the office - everyone is so nice and is so concerned. However there are only a few people with my sense of humor so when people ask what they can do and I mention if they have a shovel, they sort of look at me odd. It's a look I'm familiar with but still.
Off to work on the piles at my desk.

life continues

Today is my last day of bereavement leave with work. It has been weird taking this much time off, since the last real vacation I had was my honeymoon in 05. I've spent most of my time doing little things. I bought some vinyl decals and pictures from etsy for our entry way closet and hallway and I think they came out alright.

On Tuesday we had a private burial (on the 15th will be the memorial) for my grandma. I think we were hoping for a cathartic tear jerker. That didn't happen. Instead the minister that my aunt liked kept calling my grandma Mary instead of Marion and only said one personal thing about my grandma that she liked bridge.

After the service my aunt was pleased - I was as nice as I could have been (it was hard) but I suggested that instead of using a rent-a-minster maybe she should have gone with the minister that grandma knew for 20 FRIGGIN years. Someone who actually knew her and grandpa, could identify her in a line up. Turns out I wasn't the only one who felt like that.

My dad wasn't there - he has pneumonia and is close to being hospitalized himself. It sucks and I wonder how much time he has. We've been told several times that he's not going to be around for much longer.

My friends Mason and Isabelle came over yesterday. Isabelle wants to get involved with jewelry making. I think she's hooked. Mason made the mistake of putting his hair in pigtails before leaving. Sorry, but I have to share with the world.

My grandmother passes

I'm sitting here at home, in a home that for 50+ years was my grandmother's, typing while crying as the realization of her death is here.
This woman was amazing. She was kind, loving and supportive. She was a worrier but still stepped out of her comfort to travel to Russia, travel the Orient Express and island hope in Greece in her 80's.
She took me in when I was suddenly hit with a divorce and for four years we lived together, never fighting. I made her cuss, more for my own amusement more than anything and got her to say 'fuck' and 'shit', I shouldn't be proud, but I am.
She was in such pain when I saw her on Saturday. Dan and I had gone over to see her. We went into her room, which was empty. Walked up to the duck pond, then down to her apartment where we met up grandma and aunt marlyn at the restaurant. Her leg looked horrible and it hurt her, so her pant leg was pulled up. She was in a wheelchair and talking with friends.
We wheeled her to her apartment and she was different. Pain makes a person different, react differently. This woman who loved all my friends, called them derelicts and said that I needed better friends.
She wept when she had to pee in her bathroom, then chanted 'oh golly' for what seemed like forever. We could hear everything, it was like Rosemary's baby - the unknown more scary than the reality, but you never know.
I don't believe in much in this life. I don't believe in god, the bible makes me laugh but when my mom called me to say that grandma wasn't doing well and that we should go up to see her. I hung up the phone and instantly was in 6th grade again, pacing my room when we found out that uncle Chuck had passed suddenly. I kept thinking back then to make sure that grandma was alright. I knew if there was a broken heart, it would be grandma's and not grandpa's. I started pacing and getting dressed and I felt... good. Calm. I don't know where it came from. But a few minutes later when my mom called again, this time to say that grandma had died... it was too soon. I know she was in pain, I know that she wanted to go. On Saturday she had said 'Not even God wants me.' But for me, I'm being selfish - there still wasn't enough time and I'm going to miss her so much.
There are stories to tell about her, and I may be up for telling them here someday, but today is the day that my grandma died.