1, 2, 3, OVERWHELMED
This week has already hit me like a ton of bricks. SO MUCH on my mind.
One of our long time Hillsdale Pub regulars, Charlie, has passed away. I don't even know exactly how long ago, something like three weeks, and i don't know what from or how it happened.
My co-worker Anya found out he had died when she drove by his apartment, all the windows were wide open and the apartment was bare. She asked some of the other residents who were smoking outside where he was and they told her he had died.
Charlie was sick for a long time. He had some kind of terminal cancer and had been actively living longer than was predicted for him actually. His health had been seesawing for a while, so it wasn't unexpected, yet there had been several times where he seemed a lot worse and then got better again, so no one really knew when he was going to go. He was only 50-something but thin, frail, and his body was weak from prolonged alcoholism. He was a bit of a weird guy, but one of the sweetest most well-meaning people, even though he didn't always do or say the "right" things. He would drink too much sometimes and say suggestive things to me and the other girls, but he was so kind and sweet, harmless, a real "wouldn't hurt a fly" sort of guy, so it didn't upset me. He loved music, he had more of an eclectic musical sensibility than just about anyone i knew, and i mean that in a completely different way than from myself and friends of mine who go out of their WAY to cultivate eclectic tastes in music, rather i mean that he loved rock and roll but also truly, genuinely loved songs from just about any genre of music you could think up, though for the most part his knowledge was fairly pop in each genre. He could name more of the tunes on our Muzak than anyone. He loved karaoke, was always going to the Cider Mill to sing, wanted me to go but i never took him up on it. I wasn't super close to him, but i liked him, everyone who works there really liked him. He was affable, silly, kind, goofy, fun, and kind. He would always sit at the same table so we named it Charlie after him. The only other "named" tables in the place are Ringo, George, John, and Paul...now that he's gone i really like that we named a table after him, because it feels like he is one of the Beatles, at least in our tiny Hillsdale corner of the world. There are still a few streamers and balloons, crudely drawn in chalk, left on the blackboard that i drew for his birthday last year. It is a strange, haunted feeling, knowing he won't ever walk through the door again. He isn't the first regular to die since i've been working there, but certainly the most dear.
And then there is stuff going on with my family and Ben me...
My tooth has been hurting...it is on again, off again, but sometimes aches pretty badly. I can't afford dental care...how could i, i have medical bills going to collections from how poor i am! So, called my dad, asking for help again, really not the best feeling but tooth pain, if allowed to persist can be one of those things that really put you out of commission if not dealt with properly. He offered to pay for my care...just send him the bills. Tooth care in lieu of birthday presents. Not the most jaw droppingly exciting (har har) as far as birthday presents go, but very practical. Cool. Then our conversation turned to other random things.
My brother Hans is dating someone. Maybe not that exciting sounding in of itself, but this is THE FIRST TIME he has told my parents that he is dating someone! He's 25! And even though has dated a couple of people in the past though i guess it never got too serious, so though i haven't been able to get a hold of him i kind of assume he must feel somewhat stable in this. HOLY CRAP. My brother has a girlfriend. Um, and apparently she is 19...uh way to go Hans.
My dad talked about how they are moving this July. Moving, whether or not the old house sells, to a manufactured double wide home in an age 50+ retirement mobile home community. And selling the old house, my childhood home, is the goal. I have weird feelings about this. I worry for their financial security, manufactured homes and trailers aren't worth anything, so even if they escape their mortgage and possibly gain some extra cash too from the sale of the house I can't help but worry they will be putting themselves into a worse situation in the long run. Thats the other thing that really hits home though too...maybe they aren't planning for the long run anymore. They are moving to a RETIREMENT COMMUNITY. They are planning for their twilight years, which in some way really hits me and deeply saddens me. I know what is to come and i am scared of living through it. Their aging, and eventually, deaths, should i live longer than them, will inevitably and obviously be something that i have to face and come to terms with in some way, but i don't want reminders of that right now. Can't i pretend for a while that things will always be the same?
The hints of their aging and worries for their future aren't the only matters that distress me about the sale of the house though. It is my childhood home. The house that, for the majority of my childhood, i grew up in. Played in. Made so many memories with my family in. Pets are buried in the yard. As i grew up, in my teens even sneaked out it's windows and doors at night into the cold air beyond, and later on in my adolescence snuck my first lovers in back through those same windows and doors, our sighs stifled under pillows and sheets, separated from my family by only a few feet of air, insulation, dry wall and paint. It feels...strange. Knowing where my parents move to will NOT be my HOME. That will be, certainly but almost intangibly in some way, GONE. It will still be there physically, but it will not be my home either anymore. Such mixed feelings. I knew that this would happen someday, and that i should be okay with it. But it makes me feel...old.
My dad got a motorcycle. Crazy. Not a very big or fast one, but an actual motorcycle nonetheless, and while that might not seem that weird it is still funny to me. Growing up i always thought my mom was so vocally, almost comically against motorcycles. Seemed comical, yet later i learned she lost an uncle in a motorcycle accident, so her opposition made more sense from a personal perspective. Apparently mom is ok with dad riding the bike, she has come to terms with it, very slowly. Dad has always loved all sorts of vehicles, cars, planes, motorcycles, and especially boats, so while i don't know for certain if this is true i can almost imagine my mom allowing dad to get a motorcycle instead of buying yet another boat. I guess he needed a hobby, it is cool, but scares me a bit too.
I am feeling old lately. Sleeping is on and off but comes more difficultly at times lately than ever before. There are lines around my eyes and bags under them. In photos of myself i look a lot older than ones from even a couple of years back.
Ben has been super busy doing his freelance game programming. As it gets closer to his deadline for the game they are ramping up their efforts and he is just more and more busy, tired and stressed. I'm super proud of what he is achieving. On the other hand though he is getting more and more busy i worry what it is going to be like in a weeks time, if i will be able to cope with his mental distance as well as i want to be able to... knowing eventually it will calm down again...trying to keep that in mind.
I am getting close to thirty. That is not huge deal in of itself, though it might feel so closer to when it happens. But i do need to get back into school before then, before i regret being out for way too long. I need to find direction. Who knows how long i will be alive, i want to feel like i am making something of it that is worth it. I have enough stress anyway lately, with commuting and work. It would be better to be stressing over something that was making headway with my life. Now i just need to choose and dive in. Two of things for me, ever.
I guess a lot of this stuff may feel sort of obvious, but i feel like it has been hitting me all at once. It certainly isn't helping my insomnia, having a mind full of such stuff.
One of our long time Hillsdale Pub regulars, Charlie, has passed away. I don't even know exactly how long ago, something like three weeks, and i don't know what from or how it happened.
My co-worker Anya found out he had died when she drove by his apartment, all the windows were wide open and the apartment was bare. She asked some of the other residents who were smoking outside where he was and they told her he had died.
Charlie was sick for a long time. He had some kind of terminal cancer and had been actively living longer than was predicted for him actually. His health had been seesawing for a while, so it wasn't unexpected, yet there had been several times where he seemed a lot worse and then got better again, so no one really knew when he was going to go. He was only 50-something but thin, frail, and his body was weak from prolonged alcoholism. He was a bit of a weird guy, but one of the sweetest most well-meaning people, even though he didn't always do or say the "right" things. He would drink too much sometimes and say suggestive things to me and the other girls, but he was so kind and sweet, harmless, a real "wouldn't hurt a fly" sort of guy, so it didn't upset me. He loved music, he had more of an eclectic musical sensibility than just about anyone i knew, and i mean that in a completely different way than from myself and friends of mine who go out of their WAY to cultivate eclectic tastes in music, rather i mean that he loved rock and roll but also truly, genuinely loved songs from just about any genre of music you could think up, though for the most part his knowledge was fairly pop in each genre. He could name more of the tunes on our Muzak than anyone. He loved karaoke, was always going to the Cider Mill to sing, wanted me to go but i never took him up on it. I wasn't super close to him, but i liked him, everyone who works there really liked him. He was affable, silly, kind, goofy, fun, and kind. He would always sit at the same table so we named it Charlie after him. The only other "named" tables in the place are Ringo, George, John, and Paul...now that he's gone i really like that we named a table after him, because it feels like he is one of the Beatles, at least in our tiny Hillsdale corner of the world. There are still a few streamers and balloons, crudely drawn in chalk, left on the blackboard that i drew for his birthday last year. It is a strange, haunted feeling, knowing he won't ever walk through the door again. He isn't the first regular to die since i've been working there, but certainly the most dear.
And then there is stuff going on with my family and Ben me...
My tooth has been hurting...it is on again, off again, but sometimes aches pretty badly. I can't afford dental care...how could i, i have medical bills going to collections from how poor i am! So, called my dad, asking for help again, really not the best feeling but tooth pain, if allowed to persist can be one of those things that really put you out of commission if not dealt with properly. He offered to pay for my care...just send him the bills. Tooth care in lieu of birthday presents. Not the most jaw droppingly exciting (har har) as far as birthday presents go, but very practical. Cool. Then our conversation turned to other random things.
My brother Hans is dating someone. Maybe not that exciting sounding in of itself, but this is THE FIRST TIME he has told my parents that he is dating someone! He's 25! And even though has dated a couple of people in the past though i guess it never got too serious, so though i haven't been able to get a hold of him i kind of assume he must feel somewhat stable in this. HOLY CRAP. My brother has a girlfriend. Um, and apparently she is 19...uh way to go Hans.
My dad talked about how they are moving this July. Moving, whether or not the old house sells, to a manufactured double wide home in an age 50+ retirement mobile home community. And selling the old house, my childhood home, is the goal. I have weird feelings about this. I worry for their financial security, manufactured homes and trailers aren't worth anything, so even if they escape their mortgage and possibly gain some extra cash too from the sale of the house I can't help but worry they will be putting themselves into a worse situation in the long run. Thats the other thing that really hits home though too...maybe they aren't planning for the long run anymore. They are moving to a RETIREMENT COMMUNITY. They are planning for their twilight years, which in some way really hits me and deeply saddens me. I know what is to come and i am scared of living through it. Their aging, and eventually, deaths, should i live longer than them, will inevitably and obviously be something that i have to face and come to terms with in some way, but i don't want reminders of that right now. Can't i pretend for a while that things will always be the same?
The hints of their aging and worries for their future aren't the only matters that distress me about the sale of the house though. It is my childhood home. The house that, for the majority of my childhood, i grew up in. Played in. Made so many memories with my family in. Pets are buried in the yard. As i grew up, in my teens even sneaked out it's windows and doors at night into the cold air beyond, and later on in my adolescence snuck my first lovers in back through those same windows and doors, our sighs stifled under pillows and sheets, separated from my family by only a few feet of air, insulation, dry wall and paint. It feels...strange. Knowing where my parents move to will NOT be my HOME. That will be, certainly but almost intangibly in some way, GONE. It will still be there physically, but it will not be my home either anymore. Such mixed feelings. I knew that this would happen someday, and that i should be okay with it. But it makes me feel...old.
My dad got a motorcycle. Crazy. Not a very big or fast one, but an actual motorcycle nonetheless, and while that might not seem that weird it is still funny to me. Growing up i always thought my mom was so vocally, almost comically against motorcycles. Seemed comical, yet later i learned she lost an uncle in a motorcycle accident, so her opposition made more sense from a personal perspective. Apparently mom is ok with dad riding the bike, she has come to terms with it, very slowly. Dad has always loved all sorts of vehicles, cars, planes, motorcycles, and especially boats, so while i don't know for certain if this is true i can almost imagine my mom allowing dad to get a motorcycle instead of buying yet another boat. I guess he needed a hobby, it is cool, but scares me a bit too.
I am feeling old lately. Sleeping is on and off but comes more difficultly at times lately than ever before. There are lines around my eyes and bags under them. In photos of myself i look a lot older than ones from even a couple of years back.
Ben has been super busy doing his freelance game programming. As it gets closer to his deadline for the game they are ramping up their efforts and he is just more and more busy, tired and stressed. I'm super proud of what he is achieving. On the other hand though he is getting more and more busy i worry what it is going to be like in a weeks time, if i will be able to cope with his mental distance as well as i want to be able to... knowing eventually it will calm down again...trying to keep that in mind.
I am getting close to thirty. That is not huge deal in of itself, though it might feel so closer to when it happens. But i do need to get back into school before then, before i regret being out for way too long. I need to find direction. Who knows how long i will be alive, i want to feel like i am making something of it that is worth it. I have enough stress anyway lately, with commuting and work. It would be better to be stressing over something that was making headway with my life. Now i just need to choose and dive in. Two of things for me, ever.
I guess a lot of this stuff may feel sort of obvious, but i feel like it has been hitting me all at once. It certainly isn't helping my insomnia, having a mind full of such stuff.