Ranting on behalf of Mary elkhound aside, I am feeling much better.

Much, much better.

I read my previous post, “Same Old Bullshit” and cringed, as usual. I can’t remember being in that funk, although I do know that it was very, very real and that it was equally overwhelming at the time.

But it’s a new day. And with each new day, we’re given the opportunity for a new start, right?

I tried to post last night, but I couldn’t get the words to do what I wanted them to do. I had been driving ALONE last night, shopping on behalf of the Easter Bunny, listening to Ani Difranco and drinking Tim Horton’s coffee. I smelled like I did in January. The air was the same crisp cold as it was in January and as I passed the hotel on the right hand side and did my glance up to the pool, searching for the mystery patio door that never let in any light, my heart jumped up into my throat and I choked.

I shouldn’t be here.

There was a part of me, last night, that wanted to keep driving. Not out of desperation, but out of hope. Hope that if I just kept my foot on the gas pedal and hope that if I just kept steering, the car would lead me to where I want so badly to be. To where I need so badly to be.

Patience has never been one of my virtues, despite popular opinion.

I’m lonesome.

But I’ll wait.

Yesterday was one of the most productive days I’ve had in a long time. Well, at least outside of these walls. Rock took the day off, his Mom and sister came over to baby sit the girls and he and I took off on a day of errand running, the hours seeming to fly by as we missed an opportunity to eat lunch (I chose a Mochachino instead and good God damn, it was tasty! And it helped me to reach my target heart rate for the day). I renewed my Driver’s License, I picked up an application for a Canadian Passport, I had my passport photos taken (and I don’t think I’ve ever looked worse…), we had our taxes done at an American company which further proved to me how saturated Canadian culture is with American culture…I can’t even tell what is an American commercial versus a Canadian commercial anymore…we picked up a few necessities at WalMart, I had a few minutes in the Dollar Store where I quickly filled a basket full of twenty dollars worth of stickers, chocolates and stuffed, plush chickens, we picked up dinner and we took Michael to see Dr. Asshole.

Michael was back into the emergency room on Tuesday night. He was ventilated again but he didn’t need IV fluids that time. And this time we got a diagnosis of the Croup. His fever had been through the roof, his little body railing and twitching and scaring the shit out of me. They saw him right away, despite the promise of a three hour wait.

We were finally given a list of stuff to do for him…things to make it better…the top one being to not make him cry. So, he’s been a spoiled little prince, to say the least and his sisters have been watched like hawks.

He’s getting better. Slowly but surely, he’s getting better.


And we’re getting better prepared for the next scare. I’ve stopped hoping that there won’t be another scare. This is Michael. This is how he rolls. He’s my other “all or nothing” guy.

And now I can hear Ani in my head all over again, even though I left her in the car last night, after I pulled in, my heart heavy and my trunk full of bags from the Dollar Store and WalMart all filled with chocolates and gummy bunnies and packets of gum in the shape of egg cartons and colouring books and new markers because Easter baskets are a lot like Christmas stockings, aren’t they? Full of treats and little toys and junk.

I can hear Ani singing, “oh how I miss, walking up to the edge and jumping in like I could feel the future on your skin”.

I’m still lonesome. Each time I put on the softest blue hoodie ever…each time I smell that smell….each time I look at that photo of straight teeth, soft hair, a perfect nose and really nice glasses covering really nice eyes…I feel a little more lonesome. And every time I hear that voice…which is more and more often now (saying a lot for a girl who normally avoids the phone like a curse…)…after a heart full of excitement and happy anticipation, I’m left feeling just a smidge empty. Not because of the voice, not because of the words or thoughts or feelings…just because it all seems like a great big tease.

I love the voice but I want the rest.

I’m lonesome.

But I can wait.