I was negative. Tested in a dollar general bathroom. Negative. No sadness. Went on to go see fireworks and have a great weekend. Then tuesday came, my Grandfather passed away. We got lucky, the brain tumor took him. So, no suffocation.
Then I realized I still have not had a period. No biggie there, and said "if by thursday or friday i do not have a period, i will retest"
Tuesday night i started to spot. Just wiped once and got light pink blood.
Then an hour later nothing. Nothing more until thursday. When i spotted brown blood for an hour. So, i decided no point buying a test. Then went to work and straight from work went to the funeral. Came home exhausted and worked saturday. Then spent today very relaxed with friends.
Now that I am 9, yes 9 f*ing days late, i think i might go buy another test. I may have ovulated late, and got pregnant so the first test could have been negative. Or i could just ahve ovulated late and be getting my period late. Only in these last 3 months have i had spotting. My periods used to start with a gush, an insane gush. Nope not anymore.
Or maybe im pregnant and will be happy.
And on the Grandfather note. I think i got all of the terrible screaming sobbing cant breath crying out of the way before he passed. I cried during the funeral, well really off and on all day, but not hysterical crying. I think the week i found out that he was dying let me get that nasty stuff out of the way.
And yes, this man was the man who made me who i am. So, i will forever be grateful and hope to have children soon so i can teach them all the thing he taught me before im old and forgetful.
Lilypie First Birthday tickers
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
What is going to happen, will happen. God's Choice. Just wait
On July 3rd 2005 I spoke with my father. I told him I had gotten my temps. And was starting to drive a little. Then he told me he was going to a BBQ with his fiance, Margarita. I told him i was going to see fireworks in a town close to us, with my boyfriend at the time.
On July 6 i was home alone. Reading. It was about 2 pm. My Maternal grandmother calls. She asks where my mom is, i informed her that my mother was at work. My grandmother informs me, point blank, that she is reading the paper, and my dad is dead.
I hang up, call my mother at work. And calmly inform her of this. She says she will be there in 20 minutes. I look around. I walk around. I dont know what to do. That 20 minutes became 30 because of traffic. I called 3 people. No one was available.
I was alone. And i sat there.
I did alot of that in the days after. Sitting. Nothing felt right.
My paternal grandmother found out we were planning to drive to her town 212 miles away, and attend the funeral. She forbid my mother from bringing me. My mother informed her that I was his daughter and needed to grieve.
We went. And i met my Uncle, lets call him Uncle Fuck. He is the black sheep, and rightfully so. He has had a drug problem since 17, a drinking problem and a lying problem for most of his life.
We went to the funeral, where i met my half sister and brother for the first time. My sister just watched me, kind of with a longing look.
Her mother told me to keep my distance, they would come to me, they had only just found out 2 days ago that i existed.
My father's friends who had known about me were all so happy to meet and see me. I felt accepted. By everyone except my step mother and grandmother. They leered at me. Stuck their noses up at my mother. But i stood tall. I was proud to be my father's daughter for the first time in my life. (someday i will explain that relationship)
This story is not about my dad, or the anniversary of his death, July 4 2005.
This story is about the man next to my Grandmother. Who had heard rumors of my existance, but he been forbidden by his wife from meeting me. My father had told them point blank that i was not his. But my Grandfather had always known. But his wife was his love. What she said was law. She forced my father to marry my step mom. Knowing that my mother was pregnant with a child she claimed to be his.
I look just like my father. Or atleast a child i did. Now im looking ore and more like my mother. (my mom is dark italian and my father is danish and such, and im blonde with fair skin and aquamarine eyes)
The next year was hell. Then i met my husband. We started dating at 12 30 am on July 4 2006. Exactly 1 year after my father died.
In February 2007, on what would have been my father's birthday, we went to that town 212 miles away to visit him. When we got lost in this hilly town trying to find his gravesite, we went to Uncle Fucks. We noticed alot of cars. Were these people all here to see my dad?
No.
My boyfriend (now husband), mother and i went to uncle fucks door. He looked surprised. He had neglected to call, made apologies, and informed me, my evil grandmother had died. Today was her funeral.
So, dressed in my travel garb (jeans and ugly tshirt advertising a local eatery) i attended my first surprise funeral. Later my husband would call his friends and inform them that surprise funerals are kind cool.
I smoked a cigarette (my grandfather and uncle where so i figured it was okay) and say "ding dong the wicked witch is dead" in my head. Heartless, yes, but she had taken so much away from me, i felt it was okay. Afterall, i was 17.
Then we came home.
That year, in either late april or early may, i was waiting to pick my mother up from work (my car was broken down) and i decided to call uncle fuck while i waited. We chatted. And he informed me that he was sitting nextto my Grandfather. Who wanted to speak to me. We talked for a few minutes. And he asked if he could meet me. I said i would check with my family and see when i could make it down.
That weekend, my mother and i left for the 212 mile away town. I drove. It was beautiful. When i got down there, i learned that my Grandfather was amazing. We talked for 12 hours, my Uncle fuck and my mom both kept looking at us. They were amazed that we hit it off so well. On my way home, i was elated. And the owner of one of my grandmother's priceless rings.
I called my Grandpa a week later and told him that in 3 weeks id be bringing my boyfriend down to spend the weekend. He said that was fine. (uncle fuck had informed him that modern day relationships were like that)
That weekend was amazing. My grandfather told me his neighbors pitbull had mated with a scrawny stray boxer and that they had taken the boxer in. And that the puppies were just a week old. I went down to look at them. And wouldnt you know it, he offered me one. I accepted.
Five weeks later i had plans to head down for a family reunion where i would make my official debute as his Granddaughter. I was honored. But, a week before i got a call, the scrawny boxer had never gained enough weight during pregnancy, and had internal bleeding for the last few weeks. She died and left the pitbull's owners with 11 pups. So, i told my mom i needed to go down immediately. And left the next morning. No one knew that i was getting this dog. Just my sister and boyfriend. We had already been buying it stuff and reading books.
I didnt even tell my Grandfather i was coming down, Uncle Fuck and i worked it out so that at 7 am (yes i left at 3 am to make a 212 mile trip at 17) when my grandfather as having his morning cigarette and coffee, Uncle Fuck would come over, and make sure he was decent. And at 705 i walked in. And my grandfather was so surprised and happy. I met my puppy, that he had picked. She was brindle, like her mom. I didnt like it at first. But i accepted my gift and vowed to love this pupy like no other and make her a pitbull advocate.
After spending the day, i left with 2 puppies. One for my friend, and one for me.
A week later i had my family reunion. And felt so honored to be accepted. And welcomed. During that reunion my Grandfather also re-met his daughter, lets call her Daisy. They talked. and the next day, they talked some more. Before i left with M (the puppy) i was so sure that he and his daughter were going to stay in touch this time. And they did. And she brought several of her siblings back into his life as well.
A month later M and i made the trip again. And the month after that, and the month after that. For nearly a year. (M loved playing with her dad and brothers)
Early spring or late winter that year, the neighbors pig was attacked. They called my Grandfather, and informed him that his and the neighbor's dogs had done it. So, he and the neighbors put their dogs down. It wasnt until a week later that he got a vet bill for the pig. T?he pig had been scratched by a claw (none of the dogs had blood, flesh or pig hair in their mouths or near them) and had needed 2 stitches.
My Grandfather had loved that dog, and the neighbors had loved theirs. We all grieved. The neighbors had exaggerated and everyone had acted too quick, before they knew the entire story.
My Grandfather felt terrible. But we moved on.
In late April 2008 my Grandfather went into the chiropractor and was told that they thought he was having a stroke, he was losing control of his left side.
Within the week we learned that it wa no stroke, it was a tumor.
Surgery was scheduled. We all drove down to be by his side, his daughters, uncle fuck, his brother, sister and i. We waited. Surgery was cancelled. His blood count was too low.
A week later his blood count was high enough and they did surgery.
We waited for 7 hours. Then we were told he was recovering in the ICU.
The doctors informed us that everything was successful. But that it usually took weeks for someone to become their old self. And that he would need therapy to remember how to use his left side, and that it may be weeks before he returned home. Up to 6 weeks.
Before i left, my grandfather was wide awake and testing himself. That night he walked to the bathroom. The next evening, he went home. His surgery was on thursday. I called him on saturday and he was home. We had a miracle on our hands.
About 2 weeks later, two weeks before my graduation, i went down to the town 212 miles away, and spent 5 days taking my grandfather to and from radiation treatments. We ate frosty's at the Wendy's downstairs afterwards. Those 5 days were some of the best in my life. We talked, as we always did, for hours on end. Only shutting up when he made me steaks and hamburgers for meals. I learned so much during those visits.
I was so grateful for my Grandfather, the best gift my dad had ever given me. Even better than the $40 and nintendo 64 he gave me for my 10th birthday.
Two years have passed. And i have grown even closer with my Grandfather. He walked me down the isle for my wedding. Gave me away. Taught me so many things. Watched me cry at 3 in the morning. While drinking my diet coke (i hate it, but when im with him, i crave it) and smoking a cigarette with him. He has guided me through career decisions, buying my house, marriage do's and donts. He has become the father i never had. And i am not ashamed of my life, because its a miracle. All because of him. He helped me go from angsty teen, to young woman.
I found out a little more than a week ago, that in the last month, my Grandpa has learned that he is dying. He has cancer in his trachea, growing very fast, and in his lung. He also has a tumor in his brain, the exact opposite spot as before, and a spot on his kidney. His trachea is going to suffocate him within a few weeks time. He told me 3 weeks is his bet. He can already barely breath and has a coughing fits that almost look like a seizure. Maybe it is.
He is weak. And sleeping alot. I spent last thursday evening, friday all day and saturday morning with him and my Aunt Daisy. Its hard to watch. I cannot believe my Aunt can handle it. But, his goal is to die at home. And we respect that. He said he cannot get a miracle like he did in 2008, and even if he did, it would have to someone dissolve an inoperable tumor in his trachea and fix the brain, lung and kidney. In 3 weeks. He accepts that he has had a long life, the last 2 years have given me more time with him and has brought his children back into his life.
He misses the 3 sons he has buried, and his wife. I was so upset in the last week that i could not bear to write this. I had trouble eating and sleeping and being near people. Today. I am alive. He is alive. And i am okay.
I have been suicidal. I could not see how i would get past this without dying. How could i live through what is essentially losing my father all over again? How can i wait for him to suffocate? How can i just sit here and pray for all i can pray for, that the brain tumor takes him first? All i can hope for is that some way, some how, he goes more peacefully than suffocation.
But today, it hit me, i will survive.
Tomorrow i take a test, if it is positive i will be heading to that town 212 miles away soon to tell my dad and Grandfather.
If it is negative i will survive. As my Grandfather told me, what is going to happen, will happen. God's choice. Just wait.
On July 6 i was home alone. Reading. It was about 2 pm. My Maternal grandmother calls. She asks where my mom is, i informed her that my mother was at work. My grandmother informs me, point blank, that she is reading the paper, and my dad is dead.
I hang up, call my mother at work. And calmly inform her of this. She says she will be there in 20 minutes. I look around. I walk around. I dont know what to do. That 20 minutes became 30 because of traffic. I called 3 people. No one was available.
I was alone. And i sat there.
I did alot of that in the days after. Sitting. Nothing felt right.
My paternal grandmother found out we were planning to drive to her town 212 miles away, and attend the funeral. She forbid my mother from bringing me. My mother informed her that I was his daughter and needed to grieve.
We went. And i met my Uncle, lets call him Uncle Fuck. He is the black sheep, and rightfully so. He has had a drug problem since 17, a drinking problem and a lying problem for most of his life.
We went to the funeral, where i met my half sister and brother for the first time. My sister just watched me, kind of with a longing look.
Her mother told me to keep my distance, they would come to me, they had only just found out 2 days ago that i existed.
My father's friends who had known about me were all so happy to meet and see me. I felt accepted. By everyone except my step mother and grandmother. They leered at me. Stuck their noses up at my mother. But i stood tall. I was proud to be my father's daughter for the first time in my life. (someday i will explain that relationship)
This story is not about my dad, or the anniversary of his death, July 4 2005.
This story is about the man next to my Grandmother. Who had heard rumors of my existance, but he been forbidden by his wife from meeting me. My father had told them point blank that i was not his. But my Grandfather had always known. But his wife was his love. What she said was law. She forced my father to marry my step mom. Knowing that my mother was pregnant with a child she claimed to be his.
I look just like my father. Or atleast a child i did. Now im looking ore and more like my mother. (my mom is dark italian and my father is danish and such, and im blonde with fair skin and aquamarine eyes)
The next year was hell. Then i met my husband. We started dating at 12 30 am on July 4 2006. Exactly 1 year after my father died.
In February 2007, on what would have been my father's birthday, we went to that town 212 miles away to visit him. When we got lost in this hilly town trying to find his gravesite, we went to Uncle Fucks. We noticed alot of cars. Were these people all here to see my dad?
No.
My boyfriend (now husband), mother and i went to uncle fucks door. He looked surprised. He had neglected to call, made apologies, and informed me, my evil grandmother had died. Today was her funeral.
So, dressed in my travel garb (jeans and ugly tshirt advertising a local eatery) i attended my first surprise funeral. Later my husband would call his friends and inform them that surprise funerals are kind cool.
I smoked a cigarette (my grandfather and uncle where so i figured it was okay) and say "ding dong the wicked witch is dead" in my head. Heartless, yes, but she had taken so much away from me, i felt it was okay. Afterall, i was 17.
Then we came home.
That year, in either late april or early may, i was waiting to pick my mother up from work (my car was broken down) and i decided to call uncle fuck while i waited. We chatted. And he informed me that he was sitting nextto my Grandfather. Who wanted to speak to me. We talked for a few minutes. And he asked if he could meet me. I said i would check with my family and see when i could make it down.
That weekend, my mother and i left for the 212 mile away town. I drove. It was beautiful. When i got down there, i learned that my Grandfather was amazing. We talked for 12 hours, my Uncle fuck and my mom both kept looking at us. They were amazed that we hit it off so well. On my way home, i was elated. And the owner of one of my grandmother's priceless rings.
I called my Grandpa a week later and told him that in 3 weeks id be bringing my boyfriend down to spend the weekend. He said that was fine. (uncle fuck had informed him that modern day relationships were like that)
That weekend was amazing. My grandfather told me his neighbors pitbull had mated with a scrawny stray boxer and that they had taken the boxer in. And that the puppies were just a week old. I went down to look at them. And wouldnt you know it, he offered me one. I accepted.
Five weeks later i had plans to head down for a family reunion where i would make my official debute as his Granddaughter. I was honored. But, a week before i got a call, the scrawny boxer had never gained enough weight during pregnancy, and had internal bleeding for the last few weeks. She died and left the pitbull's owners with 11 pups. So, i told my mom i needed to go down immediately. And left the next morning. No one knew that i was getting this dog. Just my sister and boyfriend. We had already been buying it stuff and reading books.
I didnt even tell my Grandfather i was coming down, Uncle Fuck and i worked it out so that at 7 am (yes i left at 3 am to make a 212 mile trip at 17) when my grandfather as having his morning cigarette and coffee, Uncle Fuck would come over, and make sure he was decent. And at 705 i walked in. And my grandfather was so surprised and happy. I met my puppy, that he had picked. She was brindle, like her mom. I didnt like it at first. But i accepted my gift and vowed to love this pupy like no other and make her a pitbull advocate.
After spending the day, i left with 2 puppies. One for my friend, and one for me.
A week later i had my family reunion. And felt so honored to be accepted. And welcomed. During that reunion my Grandfather also re-met his daughter, lets call her Daisy. They talked. and the next day, they talked some more. Before i left with M (the puppy) i was so sure that he and his daughter were going to stay in touch this time. And they did. And she brought several of her siblings back into his life as well.
A month later M and i made the trip again. And the month after that, and the month after that. For nearly a year. (M loved playing with her dad and brothers)
Early spring or late winter that year, the neighbors pig was attacked. They called my Grandfather, and informed him that his and the neighbor's dogs had done it. So, he and the neighbors put their dogs down. It wasnt until a week later that he got a vet bill for the pig. T?he pig had been scratched by a claw (none of the dogs had blood, flesh or pig hair in their mouths or near them) and had needed 2 stitches.
My Grandfather had loved that dog, and the neighbors had loved theirs. We all grieved. The neighbors had exaggerated and everyone had acted too quick, before they knew the entire story.
My Grandfather felt terrible. But we moved on.
In late April 2008 my Grandfather went into the chiropractor and was told that they thought he was having a stroke, he was losing control of his left side.
Within the week we learned that it wa no stroke, it was a tumor.
Surgery was scheduled. We all drove down to be by his side, his daughters, uncle fuck, his brother, sister and i. We waited. Surgery was cancelled. His blood count was too low.
A week later his blood count was high enough and they did surgery.
We waited for 7 hours. Then we were told he was recovering in the ICU.
The doctors informed us that everything was successful. But that it usually took weeks for someone to become their old self. And that he would need therapy to remember how to use his left side, and that it may be weeks before he returned home. Up to 6 weeks.
Before i left, my grandfather was wide awake and testing himself. That night he walked to the bathroom. The next evening, he went home. His surgery was on thursday. I called him on saturday and he was home. We had a miracle on our hands.
About 2 weeks later, two weeks before my graduation, i went down to the town 212 miles away, and spent 5 days taking my grandfather to and from radiation treatments. We ate frosty's at the Wendy's downstairs afterwards. Those 5 days were some of the best in my life. We talked, as we always did, for hours on end. Only shutting up when he made me steaks and hamburgers for meals. I learned so much during those visits.
I was so grateful for my Grandfather, the best gift my dad had ever given me. Even better than the $40 and nintendo 64 he gave me for my 10th birthday.
Two years have passed. And i have grown even closer with my Grandfather. He walked me down the isle for my wedding. Gave me away. Taught me so many things. Watched me cry at 3 in the morning. While drinking my diet coke (i hate it, but when im with him, i crave it) and smoking a cigarette with him. He has guided me through career decisions, buying my house, marriage do's and donts. He has become the father i never had. And i am not ashamed of my life, because its a miracle. All because of him. He helped me go from angsty teen, to young woman.
I found out a little more than a week ago, that in the last month, my Grandpa has learned that he is dying. He has cancer in his trachea, growing very fast, and in his lung. He also has a tumor in his brain, the exact opposite spot as before, and a spot on his kidney. His trachea is going to suffocate him within a few weeks time. He told me 3 weeks is his bet. He can already barely breath and has a coughing fits that almost look like a seizure. Maybe it is.
He is weak. And sleeping alot. I spent last thursday evening, friday all day and saturday morning with him and my Aunt Daisy. Its hard to watch. I cannot believe my Aunt can handle it. But, his goal is to die at home. And we respect that. He said he cannot get a miracle like he did in 2008, and even if he did, it would have to someone dissolve an inoperable tumor in his trachea and fix the brain, lung and kidney. In 3 weeks. He accepts that he has had a long life, the last 2 years have given me more time with him and has brought his children back into his life.
He misses the 3 sons he has buried, and his wife. I was so upset in the last week that i could not bear to write this. I had trouble eating and sleeping and being near people. Today. I am alive. He is alive. And i am okay.
I have been suicidal. I could not see how i would get past this without dying. How could i live through what is essentially losing my father all over again? How can i wait for him to suffocate? How can i just sit here and pray for all i can pray for, that the brain tumor takes him first? All i can hope for is that some way, some how, he goes more peacefully than suffocation.
But today, it hit me, i will survive.
Tomorrow i take a test, if it is positive i will be heading to that town 212 miles away soon to tell my dad and Grandfather.
If it is negative i will survive. As my Grandfather told me, what is going to happen, will happen. God's choice. Just wait.
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