Letter to Dad

It still seems so surreal. Like if I just wait a moment the phone will ring and you’ll be there wishing me a happy birthday. It’s not the first one without you, nor will it be the last. And yet…

I don’t actually recall the first one. There’s a lot about the first year without you that I can’t seem to recall. Like I blinked and time had passed, but the feeling remained the same. That empty, hollow, but somehow excruciating pain that wouldn’t go away. It’s almost funny that I could have joined you that first year, but I’m still just as stubborn as I’ve ever been and besides I couldn’t do that to Mom, and Sis. And I feel as if you would have been so upset to see me quite so soon.

My life has changed so much since you left; so many things I think would please you. Rick is here, I know you always liked him. He is helping me heal in many ways, and I hope I am healing him too. But that pain still lingers. The hollow feeling is always there, like a missing tooth that I can’t seem to keep from probing with my tongue (such a weak metaphor but there it is). And of course touching it sends the pain shooting through my very soul. I can’t help but think if it hurts me so much what is it doing to Mom? There are times I get a sense of it but it’s outside of what I can even begin to understand (I’m also hoping it remains that way for a long time).

So. Now what? I try you know. As it’s gotten closer to today I’ve gotten more irritable. My patience levels are particularly low this week, and I know that isn’t going to get any better before next weekend. I need to get passed your birthday too before I stop wanting to bite at everyone that annoys me. And nearly everyone is annoying me. It’s not their fault though; I can’t exactly go and hide for the next week. I just wish I could control my emotions a little better. I suppose I’m just going to have to do what I’ve been doing since you left; bear the anguish, smile through the pain, and pretend that life goes on.

Loving you, and missing you always,

Squeek

Personal Awakening

Ok let’s get this out there. I have been a bad Duchess. For the last couple of weeks, ok more like the last month, I have found myself stumped. Unable to focus on one thing alone I have been jumping between several different projects or simply allowing myself to get totally overwhelmed and so writing not one word. There are those of you that write every day, and always I feel honoured to be given the opportunity to read what you put out there. I will admit though, that there are times I feel totally out classed (give me a sec Keeper please before you get upset with me). Now I have mentioned this before, hence the aside to our Keeper there. But I think you all understand what I am saying, and I am fairly certain we have all felt this way. I do have a point I promise.

Because I’ve been feeling this way, even though Keeper told me not to be an idiot (paraphrasing!), I began pulling back, slipping back into my cubby. I’m been talking to everyone but only when spoken to, or at least mainly. And when I’ve made an attempt and gotten no reply, I decided that it just proved my point. (No Keeper I am not referring purely to you I promise.) Then the other night I felt as if everyone that I love had let me down. Now before anyone gets defensive or upset, finish reading please. Normally when someone lets me down, in any manner, I simply step back, sigh quietly to myself, and move on. It hurts but I tuck it away inside. I pull back from the one(s) that hurt me, sometimes I will eventually walk away completely. But please keep in mind, I do not permit myself to blow up, rage, freak out, whatever you wish to call it. When it comes to someone I care about, I might say something but still not in the style in which I reacted the other night.

Now originally this was going to be an apology, I was going to explain where my head has been the last month, apologize for flipping out, and fade quietly away when no one was looking. I felt that I would be able to quietly close out Twitter, FB, anything under the Siara name and that not one person would even notice. I had plans to do so over the course of the next couple of weeks and by the end of February Siara would be no more. I will say I did make an attempt to talk to someone about it but *shrug* life interfered and I could not reach the person I was trying to call.

And then a couple of odd things happened within an hour of each other. The first was a private message I received on Twitter. It was from someone I believe I’ve spoken to maybe a half a dozen times. We follow each other but we don’t know each other, if that makes sense. I used to say goodnight every night before I would log. I stopped when it seemed to me that no one was reading it anyway so what was the point. A couple of times in the last week I have felt compelled to do so. Last night, I said “Goodnight my loves, dream well, dream strong, & no matter what remember there is always somewhere you belong, someone that loves you *hugs*” Now it’s nothing unusual. I’ve said similar things in the past. However I received a message from this man this morning telling me something that amazed me. He told me that he had left his Twitter up last night and his daughter saw my goodnight. I guess they’ve had a rough couple of months and she was feeling worse than even he knew. She was heading back to her room with a bottle of pills. I’m certain I don’t have to explain. She saw my post and for some reason it struck a chord. When he came back in the room she was crying, handed him the bottle, and they talked all night. I have never been so absolutely at a loss in how to respond. I felt very stupid when I replied “I really don’t know what to say. Please give her a hug for me and make certain you get one as well *hugs*” I had a feeling of overwhelming awe and it has taken me the bulk of the day to try to even put it into words. I’m still not able to explain fully the impact this not only had but is still having on me right now.

While I was still reeling I got a phone call. I have recently updated everyone with my new number and a friend had passed it along to another old friend. He and I haven’t spoken in years. We had a disagreement about something that I can no longer even recall (ok well I think I can but if that was the reason it was dumb as hell). He told me that he found me a little while back on Twitter, to which I of course said, I’m sorry? He told me that he follows me on Twitter and that he didn’t know it was me until he clicked on a link to one of my stories. He said he read it, and then proceeded to scroll back to the beginning and start there. He once knew me nearly as well as I did so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he figured it out. He said my writing has grown up since he read anything last, and that he can see it progressing still. And then he asked me why there’s been nothing much for the last bit. So I explained my issues, that I don’t feel as if I’m any good, that I feel totally outclassed, that I have felt so out of touch with everything for the last little bit. He told me to stop. He said “When we were just little brats, driving our siblings nuts, I knew your imagination was immense.” The gist of the conversation was that I needed to stop trying so hard. I told him what our Keeper said and he told me that I need to use the tension I am feeling, turn it into one of the stories like when we were little. When we were kids his dad was a drunk and was abusive. I would go with him for walks and make up stories to make him laugh, to distract him, to amuse, and entertain him. So all that being said, I am shelving my other stories for the next week. I will go back to them, some need to be told after all. But for the next week I will be doing nothing but random imaginings, they might not make any sense to anyone but me, but I will still share if you wish.

After all of this today though I had some thinking to do. I’ve been giving everyone this advice; we all mess up, we all make mistakes. Everyone one of us has looked at something we’re meant to be doing and said meh, not today. The problem isn’t that you’ve put it off, the problem occurs when you continue to do so. And I realized that I need to take my own advice. I was going to apologize for getting upset with everyone the other night but I’ve realized if I don’t tell you all what I’m thinking, how are you to know? If I walk away, if I run back into my darkest corners, how will anyone know me well enough to know when I want to hide? I’ve been putting off opening myself up to this family. I’ve been outgoing, chatty, open about some things, and been showing my love. But I’ve kept a large part of myself away. There are some things I will admit upfront that I will never, can never share. But from now on I am here, fully, completely, and in for the long haul. I said before that I would not walk away, what I hadn’t said was that I could be pushed away. Now, you can try.

One last thought. Keeper, I need to feel of use to the River. If you or one of the Horsemen could please give me a task it would be greatly appreciated.

You are my family, you are my heart. My love to you all.

Crimson Duchess

Choose Your Destiny #8

http://trueangelofgrue.wordpress.com/2013/12/07/choose-your-destiny-chosen-destiny-1-by-true-grue-angel/ (the beginning)

What the hell is this? I bolt around the corner and stop dead. There’s glass all over the floor.

Kind of glad I found these shoes. Those damn slippers made the worst shuffling sound and the soles would have been too thin for this. I can’t go back, it leads back down to where that….thing was. I was lucky enough to get past it once, I won’t chance it again. But it was worth it to get the shoes, although I wonder why anyone would have left them behind. I supposed that creature might have been after them too.

There’s an open door part way down the hall, the sounds I’m hearing don’t exactly encourage me. I tried the other hall but there were those creepy doctors, and they’d already nearly caught me once. I also found a room with hooks hanging from the ceiling, that’s where they nearly caught me. But I bolted into the other room and into an open vent. There are times being little is good. I saw them look under the desk and in the closet. I almost gave myself away when I saw the dead woman.

Anyway now I’m here and procrastinating like mad. I can’t for long though. I can hear something and I can’t help but wonder which is deadlier, whatever is out here in the hall with me, or whatever is in that room making those squishy, tearing sounds. I’ll take the icky sounds. Either way I don’t think I’m getting out of here alive.

I walk carefully on the glass, trying to make as little noise as possible. I don’t want anything or anyone to hear me so…. Oh! It’s the man I saw earlier. The doctors dragged him out of the closet where that poor woman was. I look down, see the nurse things and look back up. He’s looking at me now, striding towards me. I back up quickly but he’s faster than I am and he has me against the wall, by the throat. He looks me over carefully; I’m trying not to squirm, or anything. If the situation were different this would be quite the turn on. Oh dear god how can I be thinking that at a time like this? Maybe I’m trying to ignore the dagger pressed against my breast. Ok, I give up, I’m going to die anyway. I slam my knee into his groin, and smash my elbow on his neck. I lift him partially off the glass, as much as I can, but I hear the thing in the hallway getting closer and I can’t just leave him here.

When he wakes he’s tied to a chair, and I have his pretty daggers.

Crimson Duchess

Picture

I have a picture in my head.

It very nearly makes me cry.

I see you happy,

without pain,

without suffering,

with a smile so bright it lights the night sky.

And your heart is full, and unbroken.

And your eyes cry no more tears.

You feel love, you are loved,

and you can feel it so strongly

that you forget that there was ever a time

you felt unloved, less than.

And I feel proud, happy,

full of love.

Knowing that you are truly happy,

tears run down my face,

tears of joy, tears of love.

Tears full of feelings for you.

I have this picture in my head.

And it very nearly makes me cry.

Crimson Duchess

The 26th of Decemeber

So, it’s the evening of the 26^th, Christmas is over. I realized yesterday when talking to my family, my parents, my sister & her husband (my brother, not in-law, just brother), my nieces, & nephew that I don’t have all the answers. I can’t have all the answers. I have not seen, or done, everything. So how can I possibly have all of the answers, be able to solve all of the problems? How am I meant to be here for everyone, all of the time? I have had it brought to my attention that sometimes, just sometimes, it’s ok for me to say, I don’t know. I. Don’t. Know. Or even, I don’t understand. Sometimes it’s ok to not be able to fix it. So long as I don’t just offer my hugs and expect it to be better. When someone is hurting and I can’t wrap my head around it, it’s better to say, I’m sorry, I wish I could help, or just about anything so long as the person in question knows that I am there for them. A shoulder, an ear, anything, even a hug so long as there are words included letting them know that I care, that I’m there, that I hear them. I don’t usually do that you see. I try to fix it. I offer my hugs when I don’t have words but sometimes words are needed anyway. Even if they are simply I don’t know how to help but I’m here.

Now you may wonder what prompted all of this, but to be honest it’s no one else’s business but mine and someone I let down. Someone I love heaps and because I didn’t know what to say, I caused pain. I’m going to be upfront with all of you about one thing though. It’s not going to ever happen again. Oh I don’t mean I won’t screw up, I’m sure I will. But it won’t be the same screw up. I may not be vocal about it but I learn my lessons well.

What brought on this piece tonight however is this one question burning in my head. Have any others learned anything this holiday season? With all the drama these last couple of weeks, has anyone learned anything? Now, please don’t answer me. I don’t want answers here, I don’t want them on Twitter, Facebook, private messages, whatever. I just want everything to think to themselves, quietly, peacefully, without this being a jump off point for more drama. If there was nothing for you to learn then great. If there was and you took it to heart, then I’m proud of you.

If however, there was and yet you choose to learn nothing, blame it on others, what have you, then you need to know one more thing. Once more, once more only, and I will unfollow, block, whoever causes the drama. There will be no changing my mind, I will give one warning and one only. I very nearly had my holiday season ruined because of all the drama and I ended up so wrapped up in it that I was missing important things.  I will not permit it again. I told everyone once, drama is a deal breaker for me. So, this is my last word on the subject. Do not make me have to discuss it again, please.

If any of you feel that I am being cruel, persecuting you, whatever, then I am afraid I have to say, tough. Unfollow me if you wish, just don’t whine to me about it.

Done,

Crimson Duchess

Merry Christmas

It’s Christmas Eve, the house is silent. There is no movement save my fingers on the keyboard. I sat in the living room for about an hour before coming upstairs. Sitting primarily in the dark, the Christmas tree the only light, a warm, soft, glow. A small pile of presents sit beneath the tree, only a few as I’ll be at my parent’s place for Christmas and some gifts are already there. I sat in peace, quiet, serenity. I know it won’t last, I’ll wake at 4 am and my day will begin. There are pine boughs on the mantle, a small string of lights weave through it, a small number of miniature ornaments draped throughout. More pine boughs weave through the stairwell, under the railing of course. (I am after all quite capable of stumbling on the stairs when a cat chooses to dart between my feet.) Another long string of lights would normally light my way up the stairs but I have chosen to turn off all but the tree tonight. I enjoyed the solitude, I am enjoying it still. But I came up to send off a couple of emails, check if my phone is charged, make absolutely certain that there is nothing left to wrap.

There are no signs of Christmas where I sit. My computer takes the desk space nearly completely. However, should I turn my head to the right and look out the window Christmas is everywhere. There is snow on the ground though the temperature today has been above freezing; the only clearing has been driveways and roads.

On the lawn across the street there is a small pine. Every year there is a small group of neighbourhood kids that decorate the tree. They come with garland, balls, empty boxes wrapped in paper, and a star for the top. The neighbour that owns the tree puts lights on at the beginning of December and leaves the rest for the kids. They came early this year with all but the “gifts”. The older kids have been sneaking up to the tree since just after dinner and putting their boxes underneath. My guess is that they’ve decided to preserve the Santa thing for the younger kids that are now a part of the decorating. The tree glows softly in the semi darkness. Most houses have left on their Christmas lights, the street lamps offer their glow, but the glow that shines the brightest is the little pine tree.

I know we all have our own Christmas traditions. We all have our own thoughts on this night. For some it is stockings, candy, and gifts. For some it is mistletoe, evergreens, a time of change. Others believe it to be a most of holy of nights, a birth of a child, the beginning of our renewal, our savior come at last. There are so many things that are thought of, believed. I won’t even try to list them all. I know my thoughts but they are mine. I think we can all agree that this is a time for family, whether by birth, blood, or heart.

So on this Christmas Eve as I gaze out my window know you are being thought of, held close, loved. May you wake to all that you need.

Merry Christmas my loves,

Crimson Duchess

Our True Angel

I know that I have mentioned my sisters & brothers of the Crimson River. Our Dark Royals, our Keeper…but here is the thing, there is one sister that needs to be called out. You all know that I love you, and that Mel & I have been friends for the bulk of our lives. But there is one sister, who’s known me next to no time at all, that has been drawing me out nearly as much as our Keeper. She makes me laugh so hard that my sides feel as if they will split, turns on the music to give us all something to dance along to, and makes me cry as I read her offerings to the River. She is always trying to help us find our light, uncover our souls, to bleed into the River where she knows we will not be drained but filled again, with light, with hope, with love. If you can’t guess to whom I am referring from that description then you have not met our True Grue Angel. She is unforgettable. That is what we all know about our Angel.

Now, let me tell you about my sister. I do not claim to have known her as long as some of the rest of you, I am certain there are others that know her better than I. And yet… she is my sister. My day does not feel complete until I have spoken with her; a bright, sunny day feels drab when I know she is down.  Today is her birthday and instead of being there with her as I feel I should be I am several provinces away trying desperately to figure out how to tell her just how much she means to me.

Have you ever tried to describe a colour to someone that has never seen that colour? Or tried to describe your favorite scent to someone? Have you ever tried to describe a feeling? I will admit that I am, on occasion, capable of vivid, colourful descriptions. But for the life of me, for all I have tried these last few days, I have been unable to describe what my sister, our Angel, means to me.

So I’ve tried to do as our Keeper suggested. I put down the pen, picked up the quill, and made the largest slice to date. Upon putting quill to paper I realized that the best description, the best explanation was pure, unedited truth. So that is what you will get. Our Angel, our truest of sisters, is exactly as our Keeper proclaimed. I will tell you who she is to me, as I am the only one I can speak truly for. She is my Angel, my sunshine. She is my big sister, my Jilly Bean. She is an island in an ocean of pain, distrust, and fear. She brings the smile back to my face purely by virtue of being herself. I am her mushroom, and she mine. She is in pain nearly all of the time but her body was not meant to contain a heart so large, so full of love.

If you ask me how we met, or through which people, I cannot tell you. I am fairly certain that she has always been with me. You will not convince me otherwise. When I have felt a lightening of my heart on a bad day (week, month…), when I have been calmed by a sound, a scent, an animal crossing my path…those are the times my Jilly Angel has been there. I could not see her; only feel the effect of her presence. She has always been with me, only now, now I am lucky enough to speak with her, hear her voice, see her angelic face. Now I have my Angel almost where she needs to be. (hint hint Jilly Bean…come visit!)

I have always had people I love, always had others in my life that I could not imagine living without. But there are few that I knew before we ever met. I am lucky to say that our Angel of Grue is one of them. We were not born sisters, after all, how many can call an Angel their sister? But sisters by choice can be the strongest bond there is. Happy birthday my sister, my Angel, my choice. *hugs*

Crimson Duchess