I don’t think you can appreciate how obvious Sam’s feelings were because he not only would grumble, not knowing who was around or in ear shot, but he would type out his grumbles when he was at the computer and just not hit enter. It didn’t matter, however, because his screen was so huge everyone in the room could read it. I had to force myself to not read or to try to pretend as if I hadn’t seen. Sam and his thoughts were literally public almost always. He was always really interested in truth and honesty, but he knew that it was important to not take everything people said at face value. Sam was a scary guy sometimes. He had that wandering eye that wasn’t quite able to focus on you when he looked at you, besides him being blind. Being deaf just made it harder because he would grumble so much louder than he realized. Everyone knew what he thought. It was hard then at first to accept him at his word when he said things that did not agree with his grumbles. It became easier because his actions were so clear that they started to speak louder than his grumbles. In the end, it was clear that what goes on inside our heads, those negative thoughts, all came out with Sam. That was only clear because Sam’s actions: the little gifts of donuts for the kids, candies, flowers for me, going to church with us, going to scouts and young women-sitting in the foyer just to be with us, just for us to be family (as normal as we could be), being cheerful even when he was so tired of his disabilities… All those actions and many more made Sam’s Grumbles something we just ignored as an external version of what normally happens inside. We still love him for all the little things he used to do for us. Now we try to do things we think he would have volunteered for: Feeding families in need, working at the church, helping friends that helped us.
I cry almost every day. I want to stop crying and at the same time, I’m afraid that I will stop crying. Does that make sense?
There is more to say, but it all sounds selfish and childish upon examination, so I’ll let it go.
I miss you.
Maybe if I was a better woman, maybe if I were more Christlike, I would be close enough to the veil to feel you. But even great prophets mourned with sackcloth and ashes. I am not better than they.
I do wish the veil were thinner…
Funny story, kinda… I had to go home early from work just to be able to deal with the ton of paper work that your death has brought me and I missed the bus by a few seconds. I could see it pulling away from the stop a block away. I had to wait 30 minutes for the next bus. I called the funeral home and found out they already filed your death certificate and no linger even had a copy to send me. I thought, wtf? I’ve been calling for weeks to get it! And as the bus pulled up I thought “wait till I tell Sam about this,”. I’d forgotten in s matter of moments that you had passed and it was the whole reason I was set up to complain in the first place. Funny right? In a sad, I’ve no one to complain to at home sort of way…
via WordPress for Phone http://goo.gl/j6Fzhf
I just told everyone on Facebook your secret love language to me was lolcat. I don’t think you’ll mind.
Your fluffy kitteh.
Today was not a good day. I can’t say the weekend was all that good either, but you’ve already heard about that. The day started with printers not working and my mind constantly wondering back to you. I find I’m just not that interested in life right now, but I can’t even get myself to be interested in fantasy or science fiction, or much of anything. Maybe this is all perfectly natural. It makes complete sense to me now why men die so soon after their wives. It gets to feeling like “What’s the point?” I know everyone will say the kids need me and blah blah blah, but they don’t really. Only the house needs me right now. It’s the only thing that needs my income to get back to health, to be repaired. But I’m just not that into the house without you. I can’t bring myself to clean the closet, do my laundry, fill a scrapbook page, write a card.
I got a bill for your surgery and your first stay in the hospital today. I also got the name of a lawyer to talk to about your case. I keep trying to psych myself up to do this or that, but I still end up here, at this place, with a big black hole in my chest and wet cheeks. I want to be interested in something. I want to be diverted, but nothing helps. Even food does not taste good. Nothing makes me feel like it’s worth eating–but don’t worry, I won’t lose weight, that would just help me live longer.
I’m having a hard time wanting to go on, but I don’t want to alarm anyone. I’m not suicidal. I’m just not that interested in life. I’m trying really hard to find a way to pull myself out of it. It’s not easy. It’s much harder than the last time I was seriously depressed. That was just over finances and our situation (which turned out to be a blessing). This is something significantly more substantial, and I really can’t give much of a crap about finances at the moment, which would worry me normally. Who else will take care of finances now if I don’t? As for the kids–I just honestly don’t think they care all that much about me. Sure they would if I were GONE, but I’m not, and they are all pretty AWOL, except my daughter. I think I will rewrite my will to leave her everything. I will have to rewrite my will now anyway, since I had written it to leave everything to you. One more reason to talk to lawyers.
Speaking of which, I am going to be talking to one about medical malpractice.
I can’t write anything creative right now. All I seem to be able to do is write these letters. I’m not sure if they are actually helping, then again, I’m not sure anything can help right now.
I am wondering if your sister Bethany met you when you arrived, or maybe Billy Joe, or Steve. Maybe your mom met you.
I’m having a really hard time, Sam. Please come home, or take me home or help me think of what makes it worth it to be left behind.
Feel incredibly depressed today, but I also feel like I don’t have a right to be depressed.
A good friend passed away this week. I knew there was trouble because I hadn’t heard from his wife in a while (with a personal contact). His wife was essentially my mentor in ASL. She is a professional interpreter who corrected me, taught me and helped me through my trials in the Deaf Community and with the problems of having a deaf spouse brings into a family. I generally know enough now that I have been on my own in most cases regarding ASL, but when it came to family problems, she and her husband, who just passed, were always there to help us through them.
Before this friend passed away, he had been through a coma/stroke that affected his brain. He almost died. It was remarkable that he pulled through it. The Deaf Branch prayed and fasted for him, and he recovered. He was remarkably recovered, but there were still obvious new quirks that reminded us that he had not got back everything he had lost. His wife spent a lot of time with him, helping in his recovery, the therapy, and just enduring the times when he wasn’t quite himself. This is where we became more similar as a couple than we had before. She had frustrations when her husband wasn’t quite himself like I did, and frustrations when her husband thought he could do things that he used to do before when she would have to remind him that it just wasn’t possible now, like I do sometimes too. In this way we commiserated and supported each other.
Then her husband got cancer. It must have been quite a blow to have recovered from one near death experience only to face another.
Her husband was one of My Hobbit’s dearest friends. They traded hats like some kids trade CCG’s.
I asked My Hobbit how he was doing, because I could tell he was feeling low after the Memorial for this dear friend, and he said: “I am doing ok. I didn’t cry.” And I said: “I cried for you.” And I think I did.
I am very sober this evening. I am glad that the challenges we have at our house have given us an opportunity to be so close and spend so much time together, even if it presents other challenges (like financial challenges) that are difficult to navigate. I am glad to have My Hobbit, for as long as I have him, and now I am even glad for the challenges that have brought us so low financially. I get to be with him, my eternal companion, much more often than I would be if I worked. I think, after the Memorial today, that I appreciate that much more than I ever have before.
Sam got his new CI all put together, programmed and processed!
I wanted to make sure he didn’t think this was going to solve all communication problems, so I told him very seriously: “We’re always gonna have communication problems because… you’re a man.”
It never hurts to be honest about important things like this 😉
Hobbit: We got a lot of stuff on the Tax Return list
Hobbit: not sure we can do it all
Hobbit: Tax Return
* Pay Credit Cards
* Pay Ticket
* Fix Plumbing
* Cut Pool Tree
* Ninja Blender
* Kitty Purse
Hobbit: you were suggesting something else today
Hobbit: and I forgot what it was
Swampfaye: we’ll have to consolodate… let’s get a ninja kitty purse that can cut trees
Hobbit: That would be pretty awesome
Hobbit: chainsaw boots
Swampfaye: get magic plumbing boots
Swampfaye: the ninja purse can take care of the tree
I always thought the phrase “words can never hurt me,” was one of the stupidest ever uttered. You WILL be hurt by words (fat, lazy, blonde, skinny). You WILL be offended. The actions of others WILL adversely affect you. How you chose to act, however, is your own choice. There is a universal truth that says: You can’t move forward if you are blaming someone else. This doesn’t mean that they aren’t at fault – it just means that your personal progression is on your own shoulders, not theirs. Their success does not diminish your chances of success (generally). Taking offense may be natural, but letting it roll off your back can become just as natural.
If you are hard of hearing, it’s like being a half breed. You aren’t ‘deaf’ enough to be Deaf and you aren’t hearing enough to be Hearing. There are lots of miscommunications on both sides: One the Deaf side because you are “hearing in your head,” and on the hearing side because you don’t hear them clearly. It’s easy to take offense, but it should also be easy to understand that there are cultural perceptions on each side that easily lead to ‘offense.’ Being in between should also help you understand that it’s not helpful to be offended.
Some people are trying to offend you, it’s true. Nowhere is this more evident than on the internet where anonymity cloaks them. But to stay offended doesn’t really hurt them and only harms you. I think we have a century of clear examples that blame and taking offense does not move you forward in the macro – it can only be magnified in the micro.
So let it roll off your back and move further up and further in.
When my Hobbit asked what I wanted for my birthday (which was Monday) — #itsmybirthdayandillblogifIwantto, I asked him for a guest blog post. So here it is:
Hobbits and Wizards and Elves, Oh My!
Our home is into hobbits and wizards and elves (and almost everything fantastical) so naturally there was much excitement and anticipation over Peter Jackson’s latest Hobbit installment: The Desolation of Smaug.
Noelle said that she rather liked the dwarf/elf romance in Desolation of Smaug, and I admit that even though it is totally outside of Tolkien canon, it makes for some interesting Peter Jackson fanfiction.
The “interracial romance” suits me because at some point in our marriage I decided that Noelle was a Fae Queen and she decided that I was her Hobbit. Don’t ask… But, in case you were wondering, a hobbit/fae romance can work out quite well, thank you very much.
The Queen of the Fae has magical powers that I don’t have. For example, when I spill a bag of ice, she can see into the murky nether regions called “the floor” and find those stray ice cubes that I can’t see. She can also hear speech and music which are quite beyond the range of my hobbit senses, and she can interpret them in the High Tongue of Calinor: American Sign Language.
The Queen particularly enjoys interpeting Christmas music in the High Tongue.
So, in a way, she does have semi-magical powers that I don’t have. But I fancy that I bring the sturdiness, steadfastness, and plain hobbit-sense to our household which would otherwise be lacking. That’s what she tells me, anyway. The Fae Queen often calls me “her rock” just because I am so reliably me.
So let’s hear it for noncanonical dwarf/elf romances, and even crossover hobbit/fae romances. As you might have noticed, we take our fantasy roleplaying seriously here in the Realm of Calinor!