Today, after a long delay in dealing with "stuff". I decided to move Kim's things from our front hall closet to the basement, on a clothing rack there. I came to this conclusion on the way home from seeing a movie.
As I got closer to home, my eyes started to tear up. By the time I reached home, they were flowing pretty good. I took the first handful of her coats down. As I was descending the stairs with the second and last load, I broke down, totally and completely. I hung her things in the rack, sat on the stairs and just bawled my eyes out. Really, deep, hard crying, for about five minutes. I mean it just poured out of me. I was crying so hard I almost went hoarse.
After drying myself up, I just sat and thought about her for a few minutes. It actually tired me out cardiovascularly almost as much as my hockey game this morning. Trust me when I say, I know exactly why I had this reaction, and why I have put off doing this chore, among many others still to be done. I completely understand the psychology of the thing. Delaying tending to Kim's stuff because it would bring the finality of the situation closer to completion. I get all that. I just fuckin' hate it!
I haven't really had any emotional "episodes" in a few weeks. But things have been brewing. I am doing my best to stay busy. Look after the kid. Look after family. Take care of business. But it seems that sometimes, when you least expect it, expect it!
Writing about this (and other stuff), putting it out there, basically exposing my soul to the world, is not my first choice on dealing with things. But, getting it out there gives me a bit of a sense of release. And in doing so, hopefully someone else reading this, going through the same kind of shit, could, maybe gain some solace in the fact that they are not alone in how they feel. Whether it's normal or not, at least they don't have to think that its only them.
I'm laying it out there, and, in a sense, giving something back for the support I've gotten. Hopefully.....
Sunday 2 October 2011
Political Debate
Upon returning home from a morning of errands recently, I noticed a sign on my front lawn, extolling the virtues of a local independent candidate for an upcoming election. This struck me as odd for a couple of reasons.
First of all, I NEVER "advertise' whom I am supporting in any political race. Politics and my political support are something I generally keep to myself. Election day, casting my vote, is my way of expressing my support. Secondly, this gentleman did not ask the permission of the Man Cave Dwellers to put his sign on our property.
Therefore, I remove the sign, pegs and all, and proceeded to fold it neatly to place it with our recycling. From across the street, I saw someone come running and holler out "I'll take that thank you!". If it wasn't the local independent candidate himself, not doubt posting more signs on unsuspecting lawns throughout the neighbourhood. He ask for his sign back, stating that he was well within his rights to put it up, as the part of the lawn he claimed on was deemed "public property".
I begged to differ. My explanation consisted of the fact that:
1. Since I maintain it, it's mine.
2. He didn't asked for permission, as his competition had (and I politely declined).
3. The Man Cave
He persisted with his public property angle. I persisted with my political philosophies and things were going nowhere. Finally, I'd had enough. He became more assertive in his stance, so I did the same. I told him to "get his fuckin' sign off of my property", and to "take a hike". (You play with the bull, you get the horns) He stepped back, said that there was no reason to get angry, and I repeated my stance. He saw that he was not going to succeed here, so he said to me that he "didn't need my fuckin' vote anyway".
Off he went to pedal his rhetoric. And I went inside and had a wonderful lunch. If he can't handle me, how the hell is he going to handle the pressures of office?
Sometimes you just need to spell it out for them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)