The ATLANTIC CALLED MY NAME

Originally written on March 21, 2016. Updated March 31, 2016.

So yeah, I went. The cancer thing requires a whole lot of waiting! (Adding that it was real but nothing… πŸ™‚ Then I went to the beach. The calming Atlantic Ocean 🐚🐚🐚

Β  Next up was the Elmwood Cemetary with a bag of soil. Looks like we have built up the soil in the front of the graves stone already. This years planting is still undecideded, as the family is a mess and I’m not sure who will plant what and when. I just want respect to be shown to Dad. I’ve been caring for the family grave since I was a teen. I’ve done it alone without fanfare.

Added after speaking to my brother, he agreed that one person should put the flowers in. The grace will look sloppy with different plantings at different times. My mother doesn’t have any problems with this decision and she named the bulbs she like me to plant in the fall, hyacinths. Before this she was against bulbs. She doesn’t want to visit. I don’t blame her if she never did. Cemeteries are sad places when you just buried your love of 59 years.

But well you know families have issues, secrets and shame. Some choose to repair constructively while others continue in shame. For that I offer no conflict, life is meant to be lived not battled. I really do not have trauma from seeing my sister die in 1972. With unconventional support I’ve lived my life and I’m proud to say I’ve got a great support system. They love me wickedly. Yeah I’m good πŸ™‚


Hey Dad.

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