Dear Boat,
I don't even know where to start with this posting. I would like to start at the beginning, but that's too difficult.
I turned 40 on Saturday... and cried all day Monday. Apparently I was having a you moment, because you still owe me 28 years, and now I am left all alone.
I will be honest here Boat. I'm no good at this. I know that you told me that sometimes, all a person needs is a smile, but I'm not seeing that right now. I see pain, and sadness and grief, everywhere I go. I've ever started to see visitors that have malicious intent, and I've never seen that before, Ever!!!
There are parts of me that think that God make a mistake creating me He should never have taken you, and i should never have been created. The world is such a frightening places right now. Would you really want a future son or daughter to be a part of this?
On Friday, one could say, I "unofficially" lost my kids... and won't be able to see then for quite some time. If my family has any say in that, I will never see them again at all, as you know, they think that I'm a terrible mom. I think that somewhere on here, I should post the emails and the letters, and in some cases take the persons name out... and in some cases leave them in, entirely.
I was desperate for gas money. The stupid parenting agreement stated that I am required to do all the driving back and forth from east to west side. This is sometimes done 3 o r 4 times a day. Well, getting sick and losing my job meant I went from making decent income to nothing. And nothing doesn't pay the rest of the utilities or gas money and frankly, I think that if I have to think about money and where it's going to come from one more time I am going to lose my mind.
SO I asked my last remaining speaking relative with money to see if she would loan me enough money to get gas for my children...to which her response (paraphrased of course) if you would like to see the whole text I have it, that I am a bad mom who doesn't fulfill the needs of her children and that she would like to sit down with me and find out a solution that would benefit the children. If she feels that my seeing them will benefit them, and she will consider lending me the money.
I told her to fuck off... and I haven't seen my kids since.
Monday
Dear Boat...
My best friend.. my heart.. I miss you with a fierceness that you can't imagine.. and I'm driven by that madness...
We are coming up on two years since you died. I still can't believe that you're gone. I know that I haven't written or visited in a long time.. but I also know that you're watching...
I met someone who reminds me of you in so many ways. He's loving and kind, and I can easily see a long future ahead of me with him. But, like you, he won't ever be really mine, and I so struggle with that.
I haven't spoken to your family in a long time. I know that I promised I would always look after them, and I've probably broken that promise, but know that there are members of my W family that are looking after your daughters.. even if they don't know the true dynamics of our relationship.
I have to ask.. did it hurt? I know you knew you were going to leave me. That last night.. I'm sometimes not sure if it was real or if I was dreaming you, or imagining you, or hallucinating.. that night when you flashed your phone at me, and I told you through the screen that I would always love you, and that I would always be there.. but E, I couldn't.. I just.. couldn't.
Life goes on. It almost seems like it's going on without me. I have stagnated since your death. I've been reckless in so many ways, almost as though*I* don't want to be here either. Life is so hard Boat, and so painful... how did you exist always smiling?
So, again, I ask you.. did it hurt? Because I know that it's hurting me.. and I'm still here.
There is a lot of anger still in me.. so many have left me, and I think that I'm being punished through my loved ones...
You once told me that you were going to go to hell when you died.. that our relationship was a sin, worse than what I did, was what you did. I remember that dream I had.. with you burning, cracked lips sending me a message as you agnonized over every word. I didn't forget, and I don't think I ever will.
What's it like? You haven't visited in so long.. and I miss my best friend.. so much that it's hurting me physically. I need you, and you left.
May 17... I sometimes look at your pictures.. and I still have the email account you asked me to set up. Occassionally I look through the emails.. they hurt. S told me me once that he can't compete with a dead man... He's right.
I love you.. loved, you.. past tense hurts... Where are you?
Boat, I'm alone.. I was born alone, and I'm going to die alone.. and I miss you so much, I just hurt with it.
You still owe me 28 years...
I have to learn how to let you go. But I can't. Your memory both kills me and motivates me.. and I just..I don't know who I am anymore, or where to go.. or what to do. You were a beacon to me.. my boat, I was your barn.. remember that? I hope you're ok... wherever you are. I know there is a piece of you that will always be with me.. but I am so lonely.. and I miss you so much.
Someone else is liuving in my my house now... but your family is ok.
Forgive me.
We are coming up on two years since you died. I still can't believe that you're gone. I know that I haven't written or visited in a long time.. but I also know that you're watching...
I met someone who reminds me of you in so many ways. He's loving and kind, and I can easily see a long future ahead of me with him. But, like you, he won't ever be really mine, and I so struggle with that.
I haven't spoken to your family in a long time. I know that I promised I would always look after them, and I've probably broken that promise, but know that there are members of my W family that are looking after your daughters.. even if they don't know the true dynamics of our relationship.
I have to ask.. did it hurt? I know you knew you were going to leave me. That last night.. I'm sometimes not sure if it was real or if I was dreaming you, or imagining you, or hallucinating.. that night when you flashed your phone at me, and I told you through the screen that I would always love you, and that I would always be there.. but E, I couldn't.. I just.. couldn't.
Life goes on. It almost seems like it's going on without me. I have stagnated since your death. I've been reckless in so many ways, almost as though*I* don't want to be here either. Life is so hard Boat, and so painful... how did you exist always smiling?
So, again, I ask you.. did it hurt? Because I know that it's hurting me.. and I'm still here.
There is a lot of anger still in me.. so many have left me, and I think that I'm being punished through my loved ones...
You once told me that you were going to go to hell when you died.. that our relationship was a sin, worse than what I did, was what you did. I remember that dream I had.. with you burning, cracked lips sending me a message as you agnonized over every word. I didn't forget, and I don't think I ever will.
What's it like? You haven't visited in so long.. and I miss my best friend.. so much that it's hurting me physically. I need you, and you left.
May 17... I sometimes look at your pictures.. and I still have the email account you asked me to set up. Occassionally I look through the emails.. they hurt. S told me me once that he can't compete with a dead man... He's right.
I love you.. loved, you.. past tense hurts... Where are you?
Boat, I'm alone.. I was born alone, and I'm going to die alone.. and I miss you so much, I just hurt with it.
You still owe me 28 years...
I have to learn how to let you go. But I can't. Your memory both kills me and motivates me.. and I just..I don't know who I am anymore, or where to go.. or what to do. You were a beacon to me.. my boat, I was your barn.. remember that? I hope you're ok... wherever you are. I know there is a piece of you that will always be with me.. but I am so lonely.. and I miss you so much.
Someone else is liuving in my my house now... but your family is ok.
Forgive me.
Saturday
Dear...
I wanted to write this as a dear family post... but, I don't have a family anymore.
It's been a year since I've last posted. I've written posts a thousand times in my head, but I've never been able to put it down in writing. I'm still completely unsure as to whether or not this is going to sound the way I've wanted it to.
I want to know if I ever truly existed to the family. Did I ever mean anything to you? Was I ever really a child? A daughter?
It's a complex question. The reality is that my childhood had some very happy memories, and some very not happy ones, but it is still the only childhood I remember. And, whether or not you were abusive to me, you were still the only family I knew. And this, is where I'm having such a difficult time.
How does a family do something like this to one another? Boat never forgot, nor did he stop communicating with his children... and yet, my own family dropped me like I was trash. They took S in and treated him like gold. He just bought his house, with cash, because he doesn't pay his child support and did not pay the bills he had promised to pay.
How does a family allow something like that to occur?
Even more so, to their only daughter... and then, to maliciously and vindictively do whatever you could (without getting caught) to hurt me. It's inconceivable.
Well, you might be glad (who knows) to know that I have appeared to have lost my anger. It fueled and drove me for so many years, that I'm a little lost without it. I have NOT forgiven you for what you've done, but I'm not angry anymore. I feel pity for you, I'm sad because you will never know the person I have become, truly become, but the loss is yours.
Granted, there is loss there that is mine as well. However, I came into this world naked and alone, and that, is eventually how I will leave.
Wednesday
Dear Boat,
This is the first year that I have celebrated my birthday without you. I have to admit, I haven't stopped crying, and the pain, the sheer unadulterated pain, it hurts. I'm not sure why I cry. Do I cry because I miss you, or because I miss the silly things that you used to do that would always make me smile? Even if it it was just a temporary fix.
I feel like there is this big grieving hole in my soul. sto, we would justiff it with aima; poo and it woule be diced, mach and that I can't ever et it to go away. No matter how dark things were, you wouler always be there to make sure that there was a light there, somewhere. The light at the end of the tunnel seems to have gone out now.
May 17 will be one entire year since you've been gone. ONE WHOLE YEAR without you. I think back to those times, and it almost seems as though it was a dream. Where there should be feelings and pain and anger and grief, now, there is just numbness.
I want to share my joys and sorrows with you. I want to tell you what has been going on in my life and with the court. But I can't, because you're not here.
I'm not angry at you... I just wish I would have had the opportunity to tell you how I felt before you were taken...
This is the first year that I have celebrated my birthday without you. I have to admit, I haven't stopped crying, and the pain, the sheer unadulterated pain, it hurts. I'm not sure why I cry. Do I cry because I miss you, or because I miss the silly things that you used to do that would always make me smile? Even if it it was just a temporary fix.
I feel like there is this big grieving hole in my soul. sto, we would justiff it with aima; poo and it woule be diced, mach and that I can't ever et it to go away. No matter how dark things were, you wouler always be there to make sure that there was a light there, somewhere. The light at the end of the tunnel seems to have gone out now.
May 17 will be one entire year since you've been gone. ONE WHOLE YEAR without you. I think back to those times, and it almost seems as though it was a dream. Where there should be feelings and pain and anger and grief, now, there is just numbness.
I want to share my joys and sorrows with you. I want to tell you what has been going on in my life and with the court. But I can't, because you're not here.
I'm not angry at you... I just wish I would have had the opportunity to tell you how I felt before you were taken...
Dear Family
Dear Family,
Another Pesach is coming. Most in my current circles are hesitant, perhaps unable to undertstand just how difficult this holiday is for me.
I have all these memories of my family, of my siblings and me, growing up together, singing while we worked in the kitchen. The memories of me growing up aren't all good, but a lot of them were.
I went to pick up some items from The Mrs.' L and M and it's uncanny how much their homes smell like home. Chicken soup, potato kugel, cakes, regardless of when I enter these homes, I am always and consistently welcomed with open arms, without judgement, and without my fear of being kicked out. One of the Mrs.' grabbed me and hugged me. It has been too long since I've seen her. Most people cannot understand what it is that I am going through. I suspect that it takes adversity to build humblness, and thse women have humility in spades.
I realize that I have erred in how long it's been since I've written. A lot has occurred in the family while I've gone. Life has moved on, with or without me. If my children were not such a part of your lives, chances are you would have long ago moved on without a single memory of me. As it is, I'm aware that all my pictures are gone from the walls, that my childhood bedroom has been redecorated, and that there is a slow progression of the removal of "me" from the lives of everyone in the community and family who has ever known me. I have become an afterthought.
Another Pesach is coming. Most in my current circles are hesitant, perhaps unable to undertstand just how difficult this holiday is for me.
I have all these memories of my family, of my siblings and me, growing up together, singing while we worked in the kitchen. The memories of me growing up aren't all good, but a lot of them were.
I went to pick up some items from The Mrs.' L and M and it's uncanny how much their homes smell like home. Chicken soup, potato kugel, cakes, regardless of when I enter these homes, I am always and consistently welcomed with open arms, without judgement, and without my fear of being kicked out. One of the Mrs.' grabbed me and hugged me. It has been too long since I've seen her. Most people cannot understand what it is that I am going through. I suspect that it takes adversity to build humblness, and thse women have humility in spades.
I realize that I have erred in how long it's been since I've written. A lot has occurred in the family while I've gone. Life has moved on, with or without me. If my children were not such a part of your lives, chances are you would have long ago moved on without a single memory of me. As it is, I'm aware that all my pictures are gone from the walls, that my childhood bedroom has been redecorated, and that there is a slow progression of the removal of "me" from the lives of everyone in the community and family who has ever known me. I have become an afterthought.
Grief Ritual. Dear Family...
Grief Ritual
'Everyone who loses somebody wants revenge on someone, on God if they can't find anyone else. But in Africa, in Matobo, the Ku believe that the only way to end grief is to save a life. If someone is murdered, a year of mourning ends with a ritual that we call the Drowning Man Trial. There's an all-night party beside a river. At dawn, the killer is put in a boat. He's taken out on the water and he's dropped. He's bound so that he can't swim. The family of the dead then has to make a choice. They can let him drown or they can swim out and save him. The Ku believe that if the family lets the killer drown, they'll have justice but spend the rest of their lives in mourning. But if they save him, if they admit that life isn't always just... that very act can take away their sorrow.'
'Everyone who loses somebody wants revenge on someone, on God if they can't find anyone else. But in Africa, in Matobo, the Ku believe that the only way to end grief is to save a life. If someone is murdered, a year of mourning ends with a ritual that we call the Drowning Man Trial. There's an all-night party beside a river. At dawn, the killer is put in a boat. He's taken out on the water and he's dropped. He's bound so that he can't swim. The family of the dead then has to make a choice. They can let him drown or they can swim out and save him. The Ku believe that if the family lets the killer drown, they'll have justice but spend the rest of their lives in mourning. But if they save him, if they admit that life isn't always just... that very act can take away their sorrow.'
Monday
Dear God
Dear God,
People ask me why I am angry at you. They assume that I have left frumkeit because I must be angry with you.
I'm not.
I am so filled with anger and hate towards people though. I hate your creations. I hate people. I hate everyone.
I am not angry with you, except for one thing. You took my Boat from me. The one person who understood a little of what I was going through.
Scott said that he didn't want to leave, but that it was just his time to go. I asked him, was that really Boat under that mound of dirt. He said no, that Boat had already left... but seeing his name by the grave, was so odd. And, it's even stranger not seeing him outside. You took from me everything else. I have nothing left. My friends, family, house, job, and even my health. All gone. For that, I'm not angry. But for my Boat? A barnacle will die without its boat. So where do I go from here?
I feel so alone, as though drifting. I have no idea what to do next? Betrayal does not seem to come close to the emotions I feel. The little girl is angry because her beloved cats will not come with us when we move. I am sad because I had to hurt the little ones again. I don't know what, or where, or when the next sad move will take place. What else will these children have to lose?
Will it be me? The mini stroke was a sign. I know. But I don't know when my own death will come, though I am sure it will be sooner rather than later. I should be preparing, though I don't even know where to begin. So, I continue to move on.
The goal was to live to see forty. Will I make that goal? Boat had promised me another 28 years. He could never have known that was not going to happen. I guess none of us do.
People ask me why I am angry at you. They assume that I have left frumkeit because I must be angry with you.
I'm not.
I am so filled with anger and hate towards people though. I hate your creations. I hate people. I hate everyone.
I am not angry with you, except for one thing. You took my Boat from me. The one person who understood a little of what I was going through.
Scott said that he didn't want to leave, but that it was just his time to go. I asked him, was that really Boat under that mound of dirt. He said no, that Boat had already left... but seeing his name by the grave, was so odd. And, it's even stranger not seeing him outside. You took from me everything else. I have nothing left. My friends, family, house, job, and even my health. All gone. For that, I'm not angry. But for my Boat? A barnacle will die without its boat. So where do I go from here?
I feel so alone, as though drifting. I have no idea what to do next? Betrayal does not seem to come close to the emotions I feel. The little girl is angry because her beloved cats will not come with us when we move. I am sad because I had to hurt the little ones again. I don't know what, or where, or when the next sad move will take place. What else will these children have to lose?
Will it be me? The mini stroke was a sign. I know. But I don't know when my own death will come, though I am sure it will be sooner rather than later. I should be preparing, though I don't even know where to begin. So, I continue to move on.
The goal was to live to see forty. Will I make that goal? Boat had promised me another 28 years. He could never have known that was not going to happen. I guess none of us do.
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