Me, myself, and I

theshelbylife:

incestuous-lesbianponies:

laurarw:

I THOUGHT THIS WAS KIDDING SOGMLASG

HOLY SHIT

(Source: dont-blink-korra, via girl-of-iron)

I hate that I’ve reached the age where I have to worry about loved ones dying.  My dad died in December, and today the father of one of my very best friends died.  The emotional impact has caught me by surprise.  I can’t stop thinking about my friend and her two brothers, can’t stop worrying about how she’s feeling, is she getting help and compassion and love that she needs right now?  I’m half a country away and it’s killing me.

And selfishly…I woke up this morning feeling like my old self.  I actually felt happy, and I had just sat down to start sorting through the stored collectibles and other things that my Daddy had held on to over the years when the phone rang, and bam!, everything changed again. And it’s true what they say - life is now before and after.  For me and A, it won’t be the same ever again.

My friend, I love you.  If I could say just the right thing or do the right thing I would.  What I can do is grieve with you and let you know that you are cherished.  While it does not go away, the pain does ease, and the happier times become more prevalent. Hold fast to your memories and let them dull the blade.

herekittykittykitty:

Hey guys, i could really use all the virtual hugs you can spare right now. Just heard from my dad, tomorrow morning he’s going to have to put out kitty, Tigger, to sleep =[

He’s 15 years old, we’ve had him since i was 8 years old and he was like 10 or 11 weeks old… I’m getting ready to drive down to my dads house so that i can say goodbye to him one last time.

Later tonight I’d like to share a few of my favorite Tigger stories with you, if you guys don’t mind.

What with all the emotional craziness that has ensued since my dad’s passing in December, there’s been another man who has been simply the most amazing and wonderful partner.  I’ve spent 27 Valentine’s Days with my husband, and they only get sweeter with time.  His grace and compassion are immeasurable, his devotion to me unmatched.  I cannot imagine loving another human being as much as I love him.  Thank you, honey, thank you for simply existing.  My heart, though a little damaged, is full.

thefrogman:

Captain Pickles Bunnybottom… at your service. 

Lord Squiggy Fluffybutt.  Yep, sex change and titled.

(Source: zoeythecorgi)

My emotions have been all over the place this weekend.  We adopted a puppy on Monday (up to three cats and two dogs - are we officially a farm yet?) and I was up.  He’s adorable, round and cute, with that puppy smell.  So yes, up.  Tuesday and Wednesday were not so up - it was gloomy here, rainy and grey, and I fought with the down those days.  And finally the sun came out, and I lifted again, but I dreamed that grizzly bears were chasing me in the ocean on Thursday night.  Yes. Bears. Long claws and big teeth bears. In the ocean.  Fortunately, claws do not work as well as snorkeling flippers and I got away, time and time again.  Yesterday I bought the motorcycle of my dreams - a Harley Davidson Street Glide, a bike I’ve lusted for, and there was up once again.  And then that evening, there was the bittersweet realization that I could not call the man who instilled in my soul the desire to roam free, to hear the rumble of a fine-tuned engine, to laugh in the wind as it sails over my skin as I leave miles of asphalt behind, heading for the sunset.  I don’t know why I think that after less than two months I can just shrug off the loss of my father, why I think that these moments are going to just stop. There are going to be so many moments in the years to come when I’ll yearn for him.  So many times that Daddy-sized hole will seem huge and gaping.  And there will be the moments when I’ll feel a soft tap on my shoulder or hear his voice in my head, and I’ll realize - again, over and over - as long as I live, so will he.  So I’ll just keep riding this roller coaster, and try to teach myself to enjoy the up when I’m there, and to let the down roll over me and away when it’s here. 

Daffy would like that stupid monkey.

(Source: hobolunchbox, via wilwheaton)

catsbeaversandducks:

Illustration by ©Mia Nilsson

I’m pretty sure in another 25 years…this. Me.

There is beauty in pain.  But you have to let yourself find it, open your eyes and see it, let your heart feel it: the pain and the joy. The sun still comes up, the sky is still blue.  There are still singing birds and fat, ready for winter squirrels.  Music is still capable of moving you, there is still great television, good movies, and theatre.  Work still matters, and what you do there still matters.  And the people who love you - they still love you.  Even when you’re feeling or acting crazy, they still love you. Even when you’re in the middle of the mall and you start crying, they don’t care about the looky-loos and the nosy people.  They just care about you.  

I’m in the midst of the weirdest part of my grief process.  I’m not crying as much, though I still miss daddy a lot.  I think I’m beginning to accept that he’s really gone.  But I am so scattered.  I can’t remember why I’m in the room I just walked into.  I’ve forgotten some very important things at work, and I’ve been fortunate that I’ve either gotten a reminder from someone or something, or I’ve remembered them in the nick of time.  I forgot to clean the cat’s boxes for four days.  And that was a load of fun when I remembered.  Three cats. Four days.  The sheer amount of piss was astounding.  Thank god the dog can do that shit on her own.  (Pun sorta intended.)

Of course, some of that fogginess could be that I’m damn close to my forty-ninth birthday.  But I’m going with grief.  I still can’t listen to Shinedown’s ‘Crow and Butterfly’ without bawling uncontrollably.  And I can’t watch ‘The Walking Dead’ (one of my favorite shows) for obvious reasons. ‘Les Mis’ was a total disaster, way too soon after the funeral, way too soon emotionally. I went home and watched ‘Pineapple Express’ while everyone else stayed behind and finished out the film.  My daughter has me, of all things, crocheting.  It’s amazing the amount of time you can lose practicing a simple chain stitch.

My lover (uh…significant other AKA husband AKA Matt) has been wonderful.  I don’t have enough words to describe what he has done and is still doing for me.  He’s my touchstone, my amazing, generous and wonderful man.  His patience and kindness humble me.  And when I’m a wreck, he’s whatever I need.  How on earth I got so lucky, I’ll never know.  He has been the most beautiful part of this journey.

And my kids, the human ones and the furry ones, have given me such comfort and soothing.  It’s like the whole house rides on my emotional wavelength right now, I can feel them release when I’m okay, feel them wind tight when I am not.  I’m the momma, I’m not supposed to be chaotic and wigged out.  But there is joy in that chaos, and I am learning to see it.  Learning to feel the pain, to ride it out, and to find the loveliness in heartbreak.  

katiecakes1111:

Pokey doesn’t get enough love!

Pokey has the most beautiful pumpkin eyes.  Also…I would like to boop his lil’ pink nose.

(via cybergata)