New Vehicle

The picture Joe took of me in 2017 when he helped me buy a car

In 2017, just a couple months before Joe died, he cosigned a beautiful vehicle for me. Neither of us had great credit, but he could always help me get a car. Even though he had no income except for social security. Even if he had no job and I had 2 or more. Anyway, he always wanted everything for us. He was rapidly declining and legally his signature wouldn't have held up in court. I'm not completely sure he knew what he was doing, other than trying to take care of his family. His dementia had taken him mostly away, but he knew that he loved me and our son, and maybe he knew that this would be the last thing he could do for us. Since Christmas things had been unraveling quickly. I think he knew that he had to leave, but he wasn't ready, and he knew that we weren't going to be alright. Joe wanted to belong somewhere and now he did and he wasn't allowed to stay. We were approved for a newish car in February and he was gone in March. Today I purchased my second new vehicle this year. Unfortunately the first one I bought in February was not for me and my life. So I bought a truck. The second truck I've had in my life and I bought them 28 years apart and they are the same make and model. As I drove home he crossed my mind, as he usually does. I can hear him next to me. Chatting about whatever. Excited about the new ride and all the bells and whistles. Playing with the controls. He was like a giant child. He got so ecstatic about stuff. I was too emo for that. I was used to holding myself together. Unfortunately I wasn't able to experience joy like that for a long time. I would watch him with our son and I was never quite sure who the kid was. I was jealous of Joe's ability to be young inside. I love my new truck and it's much better for the presert life, but I think of him as I drive around and wish he was here to be my copilot. Sincerely, Ceeeej 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Very Long Time Ago

Image
My mom recently sent me this picture of me from about 45 years ago. She found it in my grandma's prayer book. (She was a Catholic) It made me think back to this little girl. She was small and thin. She didn't smile often, because of silver caps on her teeth, thus the tightly pursed lips. Thankfully they were on her baby teeth. She was serious and contemplative, but could be silly and playful. She had a dry sense of humor. She loved who she loved, and protected those people fiercely. She was the youngest at this time. She adored her dad, her mom, her maternal grandparents and her brother. Her parents were separated by the time she was 3. She left her home when she was about 4. She was angry and scared, but she was excellent at hiding her feelings. She felt ugly and self conscious. She hated what she saw in the mirror, especially her hair. She was awkward and clumsy. She was already a badass, though, she didn't know that yet. She was intelligent and sharp witted.
Read more

Charcot Marie Tooth CMT

Image
pictured is my leg brace, known as an AFO, to support my ankles and legs In 2012, I broke 3 bones in my foot, 3 toes, and ruptured my Achilles. I had twisted my foot walking and all of me came down on my foot. I got to ride in an ambulance for the first time ever. My foot was numb and I turned down the offers of pain medication. Shortly after, I had my foot repaired. The toes they couldn't fix. And we were unaware of the ruptured Achilles. I didn't walk for 5 months, even after months of physical therapy. I was unable to put my right foot down. Due to my lack of judgment I rushed to return to work. I had begun to experience burning in my foot early after breaking it. The doctor had no idea what was going on. He tested me for diabetes. I healed up the best I could, working full time and being a mom and wife/caretaker. In 2013, I had my Achilles repaired. Shortly after, I was diagnosed with Charcot Marie Tooth, CMT. This was the cause of the burning in my foot. I was
Read more

Gratitude

Image
Good day to you all. I hope this finds you well. Kids are returning to school, and summer is apparently coming to a close. The days are not as hot in the presert, and the nights are becoming cooler. We've had a little rain, but not nearly enough. The rain has mostly just made it humid. And, yes, the usual dry heat here is very different than when it's humid. I've cleared the 10 days of hell for the 7th time. The fog is beginning to lift on my widow brain. At this, and other tough times, I find that the best thing I can do is to be grateful for the things that aren't shit. I have food, and shelter, and clothes, and animals, and people who love me. I have flowers and trees and food growing in the sand. I am in decent health, all things considered. Gratitude helps to remind us how blessed we are. Not focusing on how much life can be a fucking dumpster fire. It feels like when I am struggling, life becomes more challenging. It must be Murphy's Law. This set
Read more