Random thoughts

The main reason I started this blog was to use it as therapy for myself after the death of Dennis. Many times when I sit down to write, I have something in mind and it generally flows out of me onto the "paper"—it still seems strange to me that this is being read by people all over the world. But there's also times when I have no idea what to write. I feel like I have to write but I'm not sure what to say. I'm in one of those situations now, hence the title of this article.

As noted in my last entry, I've been feeling lonely lately and I suppose it's just another phase that I'm passing through in the healing process. I had another "first" today—I qualified for the finals of the 31st annual SFPA 9-ball Tournament. I won all four of my matches, only losing one game during the day (12/1 overall) to breeze through my bracket. When I got back home, I had no one to tell. Previously, as soon as I told him about it, Dennis would say, "Way to go, babe." And he wasn't here to say that to when I got home today, and that makes me tear up (like right now as I write this...god damn, I miss him). So once again, I'm happy and sad at the same time.

Oldest to youngest, L to R: Bud, Rick, Mary & John

My sister called the other day to let me know that what she's shipping to me will cost about $175 but not to worry, I can pay it whenever we know what the real cost was/will be. She had a space heater that Mom used, she didn't need it, and I can always use another one around here, as I don't have any heating to speak of but small heaters. It could come in handy. And she had to have an oil painting crated up so it wouldn't get damaged. It's a seascape (wave breaking over rocks at Land's End in San Francisco, based on a photo my Dad took back in 1967) that I painted when I was a senior in high school. It was good enough to be on display at the high school library for a semester along with other paintings that other students did—I was proud of it. Kind of nice to get it back; not sure where I'm going to hang it. My sister in law, Nancy (John's wife) took some photos of my siblings and me when we were at Mary's house after Mom's funeral. It was a fun evening, with each of us contributing stories about Mom, laughing, playing euchre, drinking wine, munching—all the things we've always done when we gather. The photos came out great; I've posted them on my Facebook page. Here's the best of the bunch. She also said she would be sending me some money from Mom's estate. It won't be much; my family never has had much money, so whatever she sends will be fine by me. I have no problem with Mom having spent it to maintain her life and lifestyle.

I'm still evolving, trying to figure out what the "new Rick" is going to be like. The half of me that is missing is going to take a long time to rebuild, and it will never get to the other 50% of what I'm missing. I'll have to settle for a smaller percentage. I still find myself talking to him all the time. I'm still in a state of disbelief that he's gone, though I know he is and I am learning to live with it, but it's so fucking difficult.