Two Forces To Be Reckoned With.

When he got worse and moved a state over, we would obviously talk a lot more on the phone.

We talked all the time to begin with, but as time went on, our chats became different.

Obviously the tumor was growing.

Our talks became more like a lifeline, for both of us.

We were our safe spaces; for each other, in so many different ways.

Even if it was just our voices, we needed each other.

Plain and simple.

He gave me a purpose, and I tried to be his prayer.

One which tried to answer questions and keep him calm.

I was trying to keep the shoe on the other foot, the calm to his storm.

I was trying to be the string to HIS kite for once.

He had always been my anchor and reason, it was my turn to repay the favor.

The weather advisory was continuing to get worse aka his health.

He was becoming increasingly confused.

But with me?

WIth us?

Never.

We both talked each other off many a ledge.

But what ended up happening was beyond insane and ludacris, a bomb cyclone.

I was not happy with his treatment, and they, his caretakers/family, weren't happy with me voicing this.

Better yet, how I was saying it.

I have a penchant for choice language, especially if I love you.

Anyways...the definition of crazy is either saying or doing the same thing over and waiting for different results.

Key words here are...

Over and over and over.

But then again, when there is hired hospice help, and I am getting called to solve the issue by him?

Yes, I am concerned.

Houston we have a problem.

So yep.

Enter ridiculousness.

And it wasn't me for once.

So they did something I never could have imagined.

They had me believe he died over a phone call.

Next level doesn't even describe it.

I was besides myself.

Hysterical tears, the first of many.

I wrote them a heartfelt letter about how he WAS a wonderful man and how much he meant to me and how great he was as a person.

I received a thank you email, no mention of the fact that they were being deceptive and he was still, well...

This was their chance to correct any misconceptions....to say that I had misunderstood...

But no.

They said thank you.

So I told my kids he had passed and I hadn't seen them cry that hard since my own mother had died.

We were all devastated.

Three days later my phone rang.

Up came his name.

I almost passed out.

Perhaps his family had some sort of information they wanted to share?

I nearly died myself when I saw his name again.

MY family was sending flowers and condolences.

And now my phone was ringing with his name.

Here is the kicker.

My guess is this, he was able to complain so much about our missed chats or figured out how to call me, but anyways here we were, take two.

He was very much alive.

I saw that he never forgot about me, and that is, and was, the proof that was, US.

I honestly didn't know what to do.

Everyone thought he was dead.

My kids, my family, ME for fucks sake.

It was horrfying.

So I had to change his name in my phone so my kids wouldn't figure it out because they were in mourning.

To say insane is an understatement.

I randomly changed his name to Michelle without thinking.

Thinking about it now, he loved the Beatles and when I listened to the lyrics of the song, it was so fitting that I changed his name to that, on a whim no less.

After a week, the kids caught on to my pacing the backyard trying to keep him calm, and wondered who I was truly speaking to.

It was then that I had to come clean about the lies that were delivered to my door, and to their ears.

I will never forgive them, for doing that.

To him or me.

Hate me?

Great.

To do that to him or my children?

To do this to a dying man?!?

He died twice.

TWICE.

So did we.

Because I was hated?

Got it.

But what I truly got was that yet once again they tried to silence him.

People who love people don't do something like this to one another.

There wasn't respect there, but what there was?

There was retaliation and manipulation.

Let a dying man LIVE.

I do however, believe karma will serve.

My kids and I took care of him.

To have my concern and care be repaid with calluse, chaos and crap and controversy?

Thanks for showing your true colors.

I rearranged my life for him.

So did my kids.

They rearranged his life so they could try and excavate me from it.

Because I loved him and saw through their bullshit, and wasn't afraid to call it as I saw it, they were on their on mission.

So thanks for 2025 and showing me that I am both a rock and an island, but one whom is missing my anchor.

I was stubborn for a reason, but it was because I cared severely and sincerely.

I was never shady so I could hide secrets, I wanted him to have safety.

So here is to 2026.

Perhaps in 2026 I will be invited to a pizza party at my own house; and or a funeral where I was mentioned in an obituary but not told when or where it would occur, or hell, even been lucky enough to have the obituary shared with me directly.

I am just glad I was able to prove to you my darling that I would always show up and be your voice.

No matter who hated me, or tried to stop me, or US.

I was always there for you, and only you.

I love you I love you I love you, my belle.

I hope there were fireworks in heaven on this NYE that they were a hell of a lot better than the ones we saw last year in a hospital and the months that followed in 2024/2025.

Here's to 2026.

I have my fingers crossed, please cross yours for me, I could use it.

Miss you.

Happy New Years My Darling.

I know you are ringing it in with me from above, but wish you were next to me.

Speaking of 'ringing', Ringo sucks.

Sorry my sarcasm always gets the best of me.

Kissy kissy kissy.

Wink wink .

I love you I love you I love you.

Xoxo,

C.