Remember those who lost it all
So you could love the ones still standing tall
The ones who came back a little less whole
Never complaining as freedom was the toll
They fought for you, for us, for life
And gave theirs up to win the fight
Battles lost and wars won
They all lay one by one
Fields of crosses row on row
Never let their legacy go
Sons, daughters, mothers and fathers
Love them all now and forever
Lest we forget
Never forget why we are here and live the way we do!
Welcome to the shit show of life. It’s nearly two months of a massive incline that dropped my ass so low I just couldn’t bring myself back up.
Until now….. I cannot believe how much I lost who I was what my goals were and how I was going to make them a reality. Life hit me and hit me fucking hard. I just couldn’t fathom even writing a single word. So this shit may be long or may be short I haven’t quite decided what the fuck to do with it on this Wednesday yet.
In the last couple months I spent time quitting smoking which unfortunately only lasted until last week but I havent given up on that shit yet. Right now just isn’t the right time in my life to fully quit and I realized that’s ok. We all need something just one thing to hold onto and cigarettes have been my vice for so long that it is what I need right. I know that sounds like bullshit but it is how I feel right now and nobody is about to tell me that my feelings aren’t valid. I’ve done that road before no fucking thank you.
As some know I reinjured my knee for a third time and have now twice been told there is no surgery or treatment otherwise that can fix it. At least not until full replacement is required which can you believe I’m too young for that shit? That was a really tough pill to swallow for me. I don’t know what working will look like or if I’ll even be able to find work now. Another very hard very fucking big pill to swallow. I have worked since I was fourteen. I mean full time on my own, renting my own place (I had friends with a suite below them but still paid rent), worked my ass off since then. Have been back to educate myself five times since 2011 and now all of it is for nothing. I’m fucking lost. I have no idea where to go or how to get there and have seven kids to care for at the same time with no fucking income. I would love to be able to say my books make me money but like anything else it doesn’t. Which is ok, I’m not going to stop trying I just have to go a new direction for a bit and side hustle that shit.
While my health has been good, some those around me have not been so lucky in this way. People have passed away and people are passing away. I’ve had kids grieving while I’ve had to grieve as well. I’ve lost relationships with some and gained relationships with others. While all this is a part of life I wonder why the fuck it all has to come at once? People always you’re never given more than you can handle but let me tell you I broke my holy shit handle and it’s holding on by one tiny fucking thread that fingers, toes and everything else fucking crossed will hold until things settle down.
My life isn’t easy, it’s never been easy and I don’t expect it to be fucking easy I am just asking the universe for a little less what the fuck. That’s it, that’s all. Just a tiny bit less and maybe a little income so I can move forward haha!!
If you made to the bottom than you. Each and everyone one of you who have supported me, been there for me and continue to be there. I hope this one post here is what I need to get back to where I want to be. Do to the writing I want to do and hopefully let others know they don’t struggle alone.
Happy fucking hump day!!
What the fuck? I didn’t even realize it’s Wednesday. It truly doesn’t feel like it. It’s been a slow ass hump day without the usual chaos.
Hhhmmm calm before the storm? That’s what I’m going with.
For the first time this week I actually got some fucking sleep last night. My knee has not been doing well at all. It’s been swollen really bad for four days now. Had to get groceries yesterday and it felt like my knee cap was going to pop off. It locked while driving (yup probably won’t be doing that much longer) so I sat in the car waiting for the pain and nausea from the pain to subside. It took a while.
I’m still waiting for the surgeon to call me with results and the plan of what to do with the fucking thing. I did cheat a bit to find out from my family doctor the just of it, which is damage to the cartilage again! Like how much fucking damage can that shit get before there’s none left? Ugh!
My kids were pretty decent this morning. Even the youngest was slightly better, he only yelled at me when I said his name as apparently it scares him every fucking time it’s said. I have been so happy to have my baby boy home from Manitoba. Missed that boy so much when he was gone.
My mental health has been in a better place most days. Struggling through it has been both fucking exhausting and rewarding at the same time. I have had to take time to become healthier. Physically and mentally. I am 10 days cigarette free and plugging through daily.
Yay for a decent what the fuck Wednesday! It’s been a while since the universe allowed one to be kind.
I want everyone to know I appreciate you all, your support, your love and being here through all my bullshit rants. You make my world a better place.
Happy what the fuck Wednesday, may your hump day roller-coaster ride be smooth.
I made it up the hump last week and zoomed so far down, so fast I couldn’t catch up. I was thrown in to the bottom of the depths of self sabotage.
Mental health fucking matters! Let me just say this shit again, MENTAL HEALTH FUCKING MATTERS!
If you or someone you know struggles reach out. Get help and remember you are not alone.
This what the fuck Wednesday is very different from my usual.
Last Wednesday I got a call from my doctor, my pap test had come back and it was not the best news. I am headed to embark again on fighting both cancerous cell change and cancer causing hpv. I have fought this once already a few years back and after about two years of scraping and biopsies I was cleared. Everything was good. So when I got this call again I just sunk.
I not only sunk due to this but the last year has been nothing but bad news after bad news and I just couldn’t mentally pull myself around it.
I completely shut down, I stopped everything I do and just sat within my self, with a million questions that have no answers. Even now there’s no answers for them but as days pass they will show.
With that and the ten year anniversary of my father’s death which is always hard on me. I am still trying to raise enough funds for a headstone and when that idea flopped as hard as it has it added to the fall. It took me a while to realize that I can still make it and I will keep trying.
So this what the fuck Wednesday I am thanking the universe for a break and telling it no matter what it decides to throw at me, I’m a survivor, I have always been and I will continue to be.
What else you got? What the fuck Wednesday cuz I am ready!
It’s been a hot minute since I shared any previews of my writing, so here’s a preview of one of my short stories. To finish reading you can find it on amazon kindle or kindle unlimited.
Description:
Ally decides she has had enough! Her mother always needs something, a ride, food, doctors or chatting! Does she not realize I have my own fucking life to live, my own responsibilities, my own job to be done, why does she always need something Ally said inside head. As the end one long week passed and another began she just knew there was no end in site to the needs that her mother required her to fill. And she has another twenty years of the shit, that is longer than any of Allys’ kids take to grow up!
Preview:
As I rolled over to shut my alarm off at 6:30 am Monday morning, eyes only partially opened, I saw it! The dreaded little text message bubble. I knew exactly who it was and thought it’s way too early for this shit!
“I haven’t even made my first coffee, done my meditation, or fully opened my eyes,” I mumbled to myself, as I rolled out of bed.
Ignoring the inevitable of that little message bubble, I began my day. Rolling thoughts in my head of, what the hell does she want now? How will I fit it into my day? How long is it going to take this time?
The thoughts alone were exhausting and had me wishing I could go back to bed, start my day over, and not see the notification. Half an hour later, I finally bit the bullet and read the text.
Mom: Good Morning, I hope you’re doing ok. I was wondering what your plans are today, as I have to get some groceries, go to the pharmacy, the dollar store and Walmart.
“Fuck, just fuck,” I bellowed out.
“Why in the hell does she need all that shit now? I just took her! Who the hell needs to go that often?” Biting the bullet, I replied.
Ally: Morning, I have to work until noon as soon as I get the kids to school, then pick them up by 3:20 pm, and head back to work until 11:00 pm today.
I always try to accommodate my mother, however these days it’s becoming too much. I had spent every damn day in the last week taking her from one end in the city to the other, for something she needed. I was done. I didn’t want to do it anymore, and had things of my own that required my attention.
Mom: Ok, can you take me at noon when you’ve finished work?
Is she kidding me, did she not just read that fucking text I sent her? I thought…….
I had hiiigh hopes, I had hiiigh hopes, high apple pie in the fucking sky hopes, until the kids were awake!
The universal energy has finally realigned to full fledge assholeism (yah it might not be a word but I’m going to use the shit).
It started out decent, I was up way too fucking early but slept sort of decent, hard to sleep well with the knee the way it is but coffee was consumed in silence and the sunrise was gorgeous.
Since the last few Wednesday’s were decent I was like fuck yeah I got this shit. It’s going to be a good fucking day. WRONG! So fucking wrong!
Left to take hubby to work and older boy calls, “mom is he allowed candy” speaking of the youngest! “Fuck no! It’s not even eight in the morning” “well he won’t put it back” he gives the youngest the phone “put the fucking candy away, you are not having sugar this early or before school”
Get home, youngest hasn’t changed his clothes, hasn’t left the couch and the second I get in it’s “give me my fucking tablet back, mom he took my tablet” “well have you changed? Have you got ready for school? Have you…have you…” of course I knew he hadn’t before he even answered no. “Yeah, you can have your tablet, after you get fucking ready”
Insert twenty minute screaming tantrum of I can’t change, I can’t find clothes, I can’t do this, I can’t do that, I want candy in my lunch, blah fucking blah blah!
So after doing everything for him and making sure it got done even getting to the car was a struggle, on the drive he proceeds to ask why he can’t have candy! Are you fucking kidding me! Listing all the things he did just in a minimal amount of time his reply? Well what about after school? *sigh* I cant speak for that as it will depend on the attitude given then.
What The Fuck Wednesday? We were on such good terms there for a while, why you gotta go do me like that?
I think I will retreat back to hiding, alone in silence for day! Maybe I will consume some green beer tonight, 🍺 Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
The hump is high and the engine power low. Like the little engine that could I’ll make my ass up the hill and over!
It started out okay, average day, got my ass up way too early, per usual. No reason at all and decided to caffeinate. Had a silent cup of coffee before waking all thw shitheads.
Surprisingly that also went okay. Youngest was in a decent mood. Older ones just get their own shit together.
I’ve realized why my kids are such smartass little creatures or at least part of the reason. Boy goes out, starts his truck and asks if I can watch it. Me being me I reapond with “Is it going to do tricks? Drive away on its own? Maybe disappear?” You know all the fun things that can’t happen in a five minute time span while he takes a pee. It was fun haha.
Then, then I checked the bills! Have you all checked your fucking bills lately? If not I don’t recommend doing it on a Wednesday. It will definitely make it a what the fuck day! I couldn’t believe my newest bills. Like holy fuck! How are people supposed to survive through this shit with bills like that!
Now I’m about to embark on cleaning the second half of my youngest boys room. We spent four hours on it yesterday and only made it three quarter’s the way. Unfortunately with his ailments he hoards! Not just a fucking little bit. He hoards everyfuckingthing. You name it, it’s in there! If anyone has suggestions to help with this I’m all ears.
I checked on my book stats today! Surprisingly they are not that bad! And what the fuck is that? Hitting in the top one hundred spots again in a couple categories! Not sure why people read the shit but I’m grateful as fuck!
Happy What The Fuck Wednesday! May your engine have enough steam to power through whatever shit it is!
I’m ready to get off this shit show of a hump day today. For real, fucking done! I’m officially exhausted.
I finally got to sit for thirty fucking minutes around quarter after two before getting kids from school. I haven’t had a day go so insane in some time and I hope it doesn’t happen again for some time.
My dog woke me every two hours last night, the final wake time at fpur-thirty, I already had to be up at five am, so stayed up. I could have tried to sleep and be tired or stay up and caffeinate. Caffeine for the fucking win.
Six-thirty rolls around time pick up my mom drive her to surgery, and be back before seven-thirty wake up for thw kids. Whew made it.
Make lunches take husband to work, eight a.m. get kids finished for school and to school. Well that was semi successful and somewhat on fucking time. NICE!
Ninety pick my mom up from surgery, get completely fucking lost in the building, finally find her, she needs medication. Sure why not? Not like I don’t have enough to do. Drive her home, get her settled inside.
Ten a.m, hit the paharmacy, drop off for later pick up. Ten-thirty pick up daughter for her sleep consult appointment, got there, alright. Then I had to climb three fucking flights of stairs cuz you know, no elevator, of course there isn’t a fucking elevator it’s Wednesday!
One-thirty back to pharmacy, pick up meds for drop off, get back into the car and slammed my fucking hair shut in the door. Pretty sure I’m missing a patch now. Fuck! Get my moms stuff dropped off at her house, pick up court papers cuz she’s now being sued, long story. Started reading court papers and will have to do a reply for court. Sure why not what the fuck Wednesday, just add some more shit! Who the fuck sues a sixty-eight year old woman on a pension anyway. I am not sure who’s more pissed about this me or my mother, probably me.
Then get the kids from school and I am not cooking tonight. Once kids were picked up I laid my ass down and just stopped. The minute I took my shoes off my foot was so swollen. Cuz on top of all this shit I had to do, I had to do it in a knee brace with a fucked up knee. Still waiting on test results.
I refuse to get off my ass and do anything at this point. I’m sore, miserable, tired and just want to sleep.
What the fuck Wednesday, seriously what the fuck!! I’m done, I surrender! White fucking flag up today.
Stolen Time is a true and factual event from my life. It is but one chapter from my Memoir called All The Wrong Love.
My father and I grew a bond that was like no other,
despite the hardships that came of his transition.
The day I lost him was more painful than anything I had
ever experienced.
The phone rang at 11:25 a.m. I answered; it was him. My
dad called to check in on me, even though he should only be
worrying about himself. Our conversation would be short, so I
could rest a bit before heading up to visit him.
He was out in the hall of the hospital, by the large
windows, looking out, just resting. Not where he was supposed
to be, but he assured me he was good and headed to bed soon,
he just wanted to see what the weather was like.
I assured him I would be there in a couple of hours once
we rested.
As we both agreed to go rest, we said our “I love yous”
and I told him I’d see him soon.
I laid beside my daughter resting, and never did I think
that would be the last words spoken to the man I loved more
than anything.
I never dreamt that what was to come next would be my
final memories of him.
A few hours later, I woke from my sleep. A haunting
panic, combined with worry, and stress overwhelmed me.
Why? Why would I feel this way? What was it that was
not right in my world?
As I rushed around the house to get everything and my
daughter ready to leave, I could feel something was wrong,
something wasn’t right, it was a pain aching inside me without
knowing the answer.
I loaded up the van, hopped in and drove as fast as I could
to the hospital. I swear it was the longest drive of my life: I hit
every red light, every traffic jam, and parking was insanely
atrocious. Everything was as slow as could be.
It was as if the world was against me. As if the universe
was telling me to slow down and relax. But I could not. I had to
get there, I just had to. Although I couldn’t explain why at the
time, it would become very apparent.
Finally! I had made it. I scooped my daughter out of the
van and we did a running walk.
Unfortunately, at the age of two, and pregnant, that’s not
very quick. Or it didn’t feel quick enough. I picked her up and
moved on faster, faster I thought. The closer I got to the ward
the worse my feelings became.
As I entered through the corridor around 3:25 p.m. nothing
seemed out of the ordinary, the nurses’ station to the right was
empty as they did their rounds, and my father’s room door to the
left was casually open just enough to sneak in.
I placed my daughter on the floor and held her hand,
slowly pushing the door to the side to open it enough for the two
of us to enter side-by-side.
There he was, sleeping, resting peacefully on the bed.
What a relief.
As I walked closer, I could see him half on, and half off
the bed, with one leg hanging over the edge.
“Dad, Dad,” I said.
Slowly, I inched a little closer being cautious not to startle
him awake, as he had a tendency to swing if you did. I raised my
hand and reached my arm out to touch him.
“Dad, Dad,” I said with a little nudge to his leg.
There was nothing—no response.
As I went closer and placed my whole hand on his leg,
giving it a good shake, it felt chilled, as if he had been outside in
the freezing cold for hours.
“Dad, Dad.”
Still with no response. I quickly moved my hand from his
leg up to his chest.
There was no movement, it was not raising or sinking with
breath. It was cold; his skin a discoloured light grey-blue. I
looked to his face, drained from all colour with lips the shade of
a fresh blueish bruise.
I gasped.
I grabbed my daughter’s hand and backed up out to the
hallway where the nurses’ station was. I stood there, waiting to
see someone, anyone who I could call to help.
What seemed like an eternity may have only been
moments when a nurse finally walked by.
As the nurse passed, I yelled to her.
“Something is wrong, I don’t think my dad is breathing,
please help. He’s here in the first bed.”
As she rushed by me to enter, the next thing I could hear
was the speaker system, “Code blue, code blue!”
That was the moment I knew: I knew he was gone.
I dropped.
Literally just dropped down. It was like one of those
dramatic scenes in a movie where they lose all function and just
drop and scream. Yes, it truly happens this way. You can’t
control the reaction, it just happens. All sense, feeling, and
function becomes so overwhelming inside you that you just can’t
handle it.
Nurse after nurse, and doctor after doctor rushed past me
as I slump along the side of the door.
As I turned my head, I could see only his feet shifting, up
and down with the force of the compressions they used to try to
save him. But I knew it was not going to work.
Then the door closed and a single hand reached out to me.
She was kind, the look in her eyes stated sadness and
compassion for the loss I had just sustained. Helping me rise off
the floor, she guided me away and further down the hall to a
chair to sit.
She looked at me and said, “He’s gone, is there someone
you can call to pick up your daughter?”
Even though I heard the words of the nurse, I didn’t know.
I didn’t know what to do or say, or even know how to
comprehend the words to answer, but she waited, patiently, until
I could muster enough power to form a “yes”.
I gathered myself together enough to make a phone call to
have someone arrive as soon as possible. I knew the calls to my
siblings would be hard. They would be devastated by the news,
but I had to do it. I was the one who had found him, I was the
one who was there and knew.
I would first call my brother; he was close and could
arrive quicker than anyone else. I am not sure he believed me, or
the words I said, when the news was broken to him. He hung up
quickly but said he was on his way.
Next were my sisters. Screams echoed through the end of
the phone; I knew the pain they felt. Although I could not give
every answer, the one I had of his passing was not what they
expected.
I couldn’t stay on long, I had to return to the room to get
my father’s things, to say goodbye, and return to my kids. I
wasn’t sure how I would see through the flowing tears to even
get myself home but I knew I had to.
Upon the arrival of my brother, we embraced for a few
moments not saying anything other than “he’s gone”. He sat me
in a black leather chair in the hall by the windows and said he
would return.
I wonder if this was the last chair my father sat in while
enjoying the view out the window that was in front of me. Is this
the last thing he saw? It was not much of a view. All that sat on
the other side was a road and a set of old brown buildings. Why
was he here? Did he know he was not going to make it? That his
time was so limited he just wanted it to be filled with love and
support, not sadness and pity? This, and many more thoughts,
would flash through my head without ever knowing the answers.
Finally, I see my brother walking the narrow hallway
toward me, unaware of how much time actually passed at this
point until he returned. He got the confirmation of loss and the
efforts of the medical team were to no avail. He placed himself
in the chair next to me, grabbed my hand, and said, “Let’s go.”
“They have his body ready in another room so we can say
goodbye.”
Without a single word I walked, back through the corridor
which haunts my heart even to this day. As he led me to the
room that housed the body of my late father, I stopped.
I stopped dead, just outside of the room before opening the
door. I took the deepest breath and placed a hand on it.
As it slowly swung open, I released the breath. Cleansing
all of my insides from top to bottom in one solid, long, exhale.
There, right there in front of me laying flat, covered in a
sheet with eyes closed was my father. There was an odd sense of
silence in the room. It was like nobody was there. Although I
saw the capsule of a man, there was no feeling of life. Just
silence. Dead, quiet silence. The lights seemed to be deepened
and dull, the walls not near as bright of a beige as they once
seemed. I could feel not only was he gone, but his spirit had
crossed to where it belonged. Not even the slightest feeling of a
presence was detected. It was sad, relieving, and calming all at
the same time.
With it I acknowledged out loud, “He has passed,
peacefully, you can feel it, there is nothing but this empty vessel
laying here.”
I stepped forward to beside the bed, leaned in and gave a
kiss to the forehead. It was cold, stiff and lifeless. I said
goodbye and walked out.
As I made for the exit of the hospital, with a white garbage
bag in one hand holding the belongings that were with him, I
had to write. I had to voice the pain inside me before I exploded.
“Today the world lost and heaven gained … a wonderful
strong loving man … who was, and always will, be admired …
a man I looked up to and treasured … a man only his children
could truly know, my dad, I love you always and forever, and
will never forget you, what you taught me, who you taught me
to be … rest in peace”
With these words written, I walked into the snow storm
outside. Making my way to my van, tears freezing down the
sides of my face, my new reality was about to hit.
The reality of how much time was stolen.
Over the next couple weeks, sleep would elude me:
funeral arrangements, signing the death certificate on my
twenty-seventh birthday, and laying him in his final resting
place would occur. While these were hard, it is the time since
this day that pains even more.
I would come to realize he would miss two of my
children’s births, both of my graduations at school, walking me
down the aisle, and many other special occasions, moments and
life events.
All of the time stolen comes after the loss.
Please help me in raising funds to acquire a headstone, it has been ten years and my heart breaks knowing I’ve not been able to do this. https://gofund.me/3d33e377
Hi ho, hi ho, over the hump I go, hmhmhmhmhmh, hi ho, hi ho.
I am ever so fucking slowly making my way through the midweek bullshit. I have been quite productive in some things. I think, maybe, yeah probably not haha.
Got woke very super early this morning and the weather here has yet again fucking shifted from snow to rain and now sunny and warmish. Yay for headaches. Such bullshit. Now that it is has dissipated I can see correctly, I mean with my glasses of course since I’m fucking blind without those.
Gawd I hope my new ones arrive soon, I have nearly busted these ones. They are barely fucking hanging on. Fell asleep with the shit on and bent them again. They no longer sit straight at all. Please let the bastards last.
My kids were good this morning! It was creepy and terrifying. I do love when they are nice n sweet in the mornings and I don’t have to lose my shit ever fucking minute but I always get a double dose of bullshit when they are done school. The count down is on to see. There’s less than an hour before the little shits return.
I finally had a few moments to book in with my doctor for my knee which continues to be a fucking bitch. I go tomorrow, praying that it isn’t damaged to the point of another surgery. I just wish I could get some relief from the damn thing. My daughter offered to chop it off and replace but apparently black market body parts are expensive. Isn’t fucking everything these days ugh.
I took a nice two hour nap, it was fucking heaven. I feel semi refreshed. At this point I’m realizing I really haven’t been productive haha. Fucking Wednesday making believe I was, oh well, it’s been a decent hump day so I’m ok with that shit.
Happy what the fuck Wednesday, hump day all. Hope yours has been decent at the very least. If not, I feel you, it’s time to hump the hump day back!
Rants of a Foul Mouthed Mom