Guilty Pleasures (YouTube Edition)

Whatever Linda's YouTube Channel

Guilty pleasures come in all forms. This one was one that I would not have gravitated towards on my own naturally, but it has a "sentimental" memory attached to it.

Now I am a self-confessed "YouTube Aficionado" and can spend hours or even days just binging my favorite channels and content creators. 

My favorite channels consist of:

Make Up Tutorials

Board Certified Dermatologists

Board Certified Doctors for medical videos

Ketogenic Diets

And now content creator: Whatever Linda 😂

The backstory behind the current "fandom" is that before my mom had passed away, she was a huge fan of 90 Day Fiancé and watching it with her was an acceptable way of spending her last months with her. 

I know that sounds positively absurd, but she would tune out the world when that show came on, and she would want to discuss the show, the characters, and plot lines with me and I found myself completely uneducated by this as it was not a show I was interested in, so I didn't watch it.

Seeing how frustrated my mom got by that, she was wanting to connect with someone who had the same interest, I started to watch the series. It also helped that a close friend of mine in Jersey was a HUGE fan so I would call her to get caught up on everything so that I could have conversations with my mom about the show.

*Screenshots lifted from Whatever Linda's YouTube Channel*

The night she passed, we "watched" (I watched 90 day and had the TV volume up to where she could hear it as she was unconscious and in the process of passing away) the show... I left, went home, and got a call just a few short hours later letting me know she succumbed to the cancer that ravaged her body and was gone. 

After that, it took me a little bit to pick back up and watch the show, because by now I am very familiar with it, and I found myself watching it as it was something that my mom and I shared together. 

With my priorities now forever changed not having the responsibility of caring for a terminally ill parent, I found myself pouring myself into work hard core to escape feeling the intense emotions of losing a parent. Let alone both parents within months of each other, leaving me completely alone.

*Linda refers to Adam Sandler as her "husband" on her channel 😂*

By the time I would get home from work, I am completely exhausted and just can't stay awake for the newest episode(s), so I ran to my trusty source of all things "news": YouTube

I don't exactly remember how I found Whatever Linda, but I quickly found myself binging her whole channel in a matter of mere days. 

She has been my source of all things 90 Day and does it with Oscar Worthy snark which appeals to me for obvious reasons 😁

I am completely OBSESSED with her "Statue of David" floating head filter... I do not know why but I freaking LOVE IT!

The facial expressions just kill me 😂

She even has Official Whatever Linda Merch and you bet your ass I'm getting a shirt! 😍

And randomly she will insert "her Husband" (Adam Sandler) in some of her videos which catches you off-guard in the best possible way. 

It's OK Linda, Keanu Reeves is my Husband so I get it 😉

Anyway, I wanted to write a post about Whatever Linda, her channel, I liken it to KFC 🐔 and it's 11 herbs and spices. You crave that ish for a fortnight. It's addicting! If I had to fault her, it would be that she doesn't upload often enough... I need at the very least 5 uploads a day 😆

 Honestly, you will have to watch it for yourself as my explanation doesn't do it the justice it deserves. 

And I'd like to Thank her for helping me keep up with the last memories I had with my mom... I wished I found her channel while my mom was still alive.

She would have LOVED watching it 💕

*Please Subscribe*

Whatever Linda's YouTube Channel

Whatever Linda's Official Merchandise

*Click Image to Play*

 

A Year of "Firsts"; a Mother's Day post

 

Dear Mom,

It's been 105 days since you have been gone, and since then I have spent 105 days without you.

I have celebrated what would have been your 74th birthday without you for the first time, and today I will be not exactly "celebrating" but more like observing "Mother's Day" in your memory... again, without you here. 

Everywhere I have gone in the last week or so, there have been obvious reminders of this impending day. It feels weird and empty without you, but I have to keep reminding myself that even if you were still here, you wouldn't be happy. You would still be fighting the pain and disability that your cancer had left you in. 

If that wasn't the case, you would still be without Carl... the love of your life. 

As much as it hurts, I can comfortably say now that while I do miss you, Carl as well, I am glad that you are now both together even if that means neither of you are here on earth anymore.

I walked into Safeway for my requisite Ghost Green Apple Energy Drinks, I was bombarded with hundreds of floral arrangements, stuffed animals, greeting cards, and balloons to remind everyone not to forget Mother's Day. 

Initially I thought that I would need to "brace myself for impact" emotionally, but I surprised myself by not really feeling anything that would reduce me to tears at that moment. Maybe it was the fact that I was in public, and I'd rather chew off my own arm as if it was in a Bear Trap than to have an emotional breakdown in front of people. 

Either way, I felt the urge to snap a few photos as I knew I was going to need to write about this today. Needed to be "on theme."

Mom, I want to hear your story

Over the past couple of days of course there have been all sorts of Mother's Day or Mom-centric advertisements online that I have seen, but nothing that really caught my attention like the journal/story book: "Mom, I want to hear your story"

I wish I would have found this much earlier... I would have asked you to fill it out for me as I know there are so many aspects to your life that I would have loved to have heard about from YOU, not a friend or family member. 

Then I thought about that and came to the conclusion that I don't know how open to that you would have been. You hid a fatal diagnosis from me for years, what made me think you would pen the truth in those pages? It's OK. I truly believe that if I was meant to have that book, it would have happened.

Just know, I would have loved and cherished every page written in it. 

I cling to the poems and letters you have written to Carl, and I'm OK with that. I wished I kept the birthday cards to me... I hope somewhere in my storage unit, I might find 1 one day. 

Link to Card on Etsy

As I was cruising my favorite online shopping portal, I came across this card. The listing title stopped me in my tracks, and 3 days later it appeared in the mailbox.

It's listed as "wedding day without mom | birthday without mom | sympathy | thinking of you card | card for friend loss of mom"

That immediately got me thinking... there will be another "first" that you won't be a part of.. my wedding. Not that I'm getting married at the moment, but neither you or Carl will be there in the physical sense. Now THAT got the tears going.

But the phrase "your mom would be so proud of you" was what meant most to me. Because that is all I have ever wanted from you. Was to make you proud of me; something I have rarely if ever felt.

I realize now through therapy and research into the family dynamics, that you didn't grow up experiencing that yourself so how could you give that to anyone else??

I love you Mom, and I am in the process of learning to forgive you. I forgive you for that. 

But most of all, I love you. 

Coming up for air

 

The last few days has been an exercise in pretending that everything is fine on the outside, while housing an inner storm on the inside. I really don't want to make those around me uncomfortable, but I have actively avoided my usual amount of social interaction considerably since the death of my mother.

I get the "grieving process" can be lengthy and I'm totally not here for it... I liken the last 7 days to "being held under for 3." 

For those that are unfamiliar, that is a surf term. Being held under for 3 means being held under the ocean water for 3 sets of waves. If you have ever experienced that, you know what true panic feels like.

Just when you think it's safe or you are able to surface, BAM! Another wave hits you and pushes you back under. Depending where you surf, and how far out you go for waves, kind of determines how good of a swimmer you are and your lung capacity.

Last night, I had none. I would liken the experience to what I would imagine surfing Maverick's would be like. *I DO surf, but I'm not good enough to surf there. Like, ever*

A breaking wave can apply a pressure of between 250-6,000 pounds per square foot (1,220-29,294 kilograms per square meter), depending on its height. Maverick's average's 30 ft. waves... that is A LOT of pressure slamming down on you. And keeping you underwater.

Yes, people have died surfing there. Some being the world's BEST surfers. 

That is what this grief is feeling like to me. Wiping out off a 30ft wave and getting held under for 3.

At times I struggled to breathe, struggled just to make it through the day. Even though I have a professional to talk to twice a week, it doesn't prevent the sadness that comes in waves, just like the ocean. 

I'm happy that I recognize and have a really good support group consisting of friends and the few family members I have left, or I don't think I would have made it out of this alive. My dog also helps keep me focused on the future as she is all I have, as I, hers.

Sleep has been a scarce commodity as I am almost guaranteed a nightmare each time I close my eyes. None of them make any sense to me, and I certainly don't want to remember them, so I won't write about them. Unless they are significant to me. The only common theme they have is: Loss. 

I can't handle any more of that and I know that life in general is full of it. But I also have to remember that it is full of gains as well. 

I return to work tomorrow for the first time in months, and it's a mixed bag of emotions on that one. My only focus and concern is to make sure I don't fall apart and I do my job as I've always have. 

I know there are many folks that are excited to have me back at work that genuinely miss me, and that makes my heart feel full. I am grateful for that and those people. Grateful that I still have a job (even though it would be illegal to be fired for taking FMLA). Grateful that I didn't take the road that some of my family took that are no longer here. 

Today I didn't feel great about much of anything, but tomorrow is a new day with A LOT to get through that will not involve (I hope) continuing the grieving process. "Duck Diving" my emotions as it were.

Maybe tomorrow I'll get to catch my breath and "come up for air." 

Stigmas

  It was shared with me the other day by a total stranger that not only did this blog serve as a source of "validation", but also that of comfort to them as they too have and are still going through some intense devastation in their own life. That they weren't alone. 

I was a tad shocked that anyone would want to read my ramblings, much less reach out to me about them. I'm glad they did.

I'm glad that they found some solace in my words and as a result, have found the strength to seek professional help for themselves. Their hesitancy and I guess with my own in the past, was the stigma of getting help. 

I think my generation and those that preceded it were expected to just tough things out. Life is hard, suck it up, move tf on already. Not realizing the dysfunctional behaviors, thought patterns, and expectations of ourselves and others, are just that indeed: Dysfunctional.

For me personally, I just ripped the band aid off and openly admit to anyone now that I am getting help for myself. I had to. I was facing and going through some major life events that I was not prepared for physically and emotionally. I was sincerely afraid that as a result of losing both of my folks within a very short time of one another, I didn't know how I was going to handle it all. 

I was afraid of losing everything I worked so hard for by losing myself. By potentially allowing myself to hide myself away from the world and internalizing everything to the point of insanity.

I have for decades, kept most things to myself. I was punished verbally and emotionally for expressing what I was going through, how it was making me feel, and how I needed some sort of support. I grew up thinking this kind of treatment or retaliation was NORMAL. No, it was abusive. It was my parents way of dealing with situations they too could not deal with. Dismissing my pain and chastising me for it was their way of doing that. 

In return, this is what I have done to myself and to others. For that I am truly sorry. I can't take things back, I can only move forward knowing better. I have beat myself up pretty badly trying to serve some internal karma which doesn't work. 

I've had bosses over the years tell me that they wouldn't give me any constructive criticism as they have never seen someone so hard on themselves as I was. Basically I "scared them into submission."

I didn't know how to take that then... I do now. I'm grateful for the feedback and for their grace in knowing that I was fragile, not like a flower. Like a bomb. Honestly, looking back at all of that I can say I am a tad embarrassed at myself, but it was all I knew at the time. 

What isn't talked about enough is how freakin HARD it is to forgive oneself.

I still hold myself to these ridiculous standards that practically no human can live up to (this is a generational behavior brought on by my grandfather and passed down to his own kids; 2 of which took their own lives because they could not live up to his expectations, and 2 ran away from home constantly as a result as well). 

As I have stated before somewhere in this blog, it is therapeutic for me to be able to write out all my thoughts, frustrations, failures, as well as victories. I knew that it being out on the internet, people were going to read it. I didn't set out for it to be a "Self Help guide" or "How To", I wanted to get what I have been holding in for so long, OUT. I didn't care in what format that came in.

I sincerely hope that people find the strength to seek help if they need it and not give into societal stigmas to avoid ridicule. You have no idea of the disservice you are doing to yourself or someone that is struggling. 

Personally I believe every single one of us here on earth needs therapy. 

If you don't, I have 3 requests of you:

1) Walk on water without getting your feet wet

2) Turn water into wine

3) Perform 3 miracles spontaneously in front of me on the spot. 

Maybe then I will give you a "hall pass" on this. Until then, I said what I said.

Once again, I'm glad and grateful to have been a source of validation for the stranger that contacted me online. 

I'm glad I could help.

Hope Floats

 

"Hope Floats" happened to be on tv today, and it was one of the movies that my mom and I both really enjoyed watching. 

I didn't realize at how much my own life has drawn some parallels with it. Oddly enough.

My husband, while he didn't leave me, did cheat on me which forced my hand in filing for divorce. I was filing for one before that information was known to me anyway, this just tipped the scale. That was a relationship that should have never been. Again, more on that later. 

When this movie came out on DVD, I remember watching it with my mom and there is this scene that I will never forget her telling me, that it reminded her of me when my birth father would come around.

 I don't remember much of "the donor" in my life, but I guess when he did come around, I was beyond excited and evidently wanting to either spend as much time with him as I could, or maybe I wanted to go live with him. I'm not sure. But when my mom shared with me that there would be times where he would call and promise to pick me up from my mom's house and take me for the weekend, I would have my little suitcase packed and would be sitting by the window waiting for him to come get me.

I just knew that any minute he would be pulling up into the driveway. Any minute.

My mom knew better. Apparently, this was a consistent pattern for him to make promises and not keep them. For him to make plans and then ghost; before "ghosting" was defined. Such a trailblazer 👎

I guess when "the donor" would actually show up, he was met by a very angry & frustrated mother (mine) and she would unleash an all-out verbal assault on him citing how much of a "dead beat dad" he was and how much damage he was doing to me.

As this is all happening, I am in my room crying and carrying on. I evidently was very upset at my mom for yelling at "the donor" because that would inevitably cause him to go away, not to come back once again. 

My mom told me that when he heard me screaming and crying in my bedroom, that he told her that he would have no problem disciplining me to get me to stop and shut up.

THAT right there put my mom into a tailspin, and she booted him out of our house and pretty much out of our lives. Until my 19th birthday. Again, this will be covered later on. 

The simple act of him leaving, caused a scene similar to the one in the movie. 

Hearing that broke my heart and at the same time made so much sense to me as an adult.

Both parents did a number on me; trying to overcome and heal from this later in life is another special challenge. One I wouldn't mind skipping out on actually.

Then the scene where "Birdie" is visiting her dad in the nursing home just got to me. It somewhat reminded me of 2 different things all at once. One that I didn't think would cross my mind this soon, much less affect me like it did right now... That was the scene where she starts dancing with him in his room.

In that moment my heart broke for the fact that I never had or will ever have that Father/Daughter dance with my dad (Carl) when I get married again (yes, I hope to again one day). He and my mom did attend my wedding, but it was anything but "traditional." AGAIN... all that in a later post.

I miss my dad something fierce. He was the best father I've ever known, and I am so very grateful for his presence in my life. I cried for a few moments mourning the loss of him and the loss of that opportunity.

And of course, the nursing home itself. The fact that my mom was in one for the last 3 months of her life, not wanting to be there, asking me daily when she could come home. It broke my heart. She needed 24 hour in home hospice care for that to happen, and I didn't have the $21,000.00 a month needed to make that a reality. I will cover this in another post. Even after a month since she's been gone, I still have a hard time talking about it. But I will. Eventually.

The scene where she loses her mom. I don't need to elaborate about that. Hits too close to home.

As sad as this sounds, I got "jealous" of the fact that "Birdie" had something of her mother's that still smelled like her. I do not have anything left behind like that. Maybe that is a good thing. It probably would make being able to move on, that much harder for me. 

The relationship between "Birdie" and her mom certainly did not mirror that of the one my mother and I had with each other, but the pain of the loss is the same.

The Soundtrack is something that could narrate my life pretty closely. 

I would like to think that this was something "divine from above," and maybe it just might be. I just wish I could stop getting so emotional over every little thing that feels familiar to me. 

I guess this is the part of healing I have been avoiding for so long. 

Can't run forever. 

I miss you Mom & Dad. I love you both.

True Story

 

Dear Mom,

 

Dear Mom,

I started on this letter to you on what would have been your 74th birthday, instead I decided to wait and finish it today: 1 month since you've been gone. 

This letter has been in my heart to write for a long time now, and I would rather have had the chance to say all of this to you while you were still alive, but as we both believe "things happen for a reason", so I have to believe that this is one of those times. 

And maybe this conversation wouldn't have been well received at that time... who knows?

I think there was just too much hurt, anger, and misunderstanding between the both of us to be able to see where the other was coming from. Though you are gone now, I just want to "tell you" some things that I couldn't do while you were alive. 

I'd like to first say that while I understand now as to why you didn't make me your Power of Attorney, it hurt me deeply that you kept your disease a secret from me for so long. You knew if I had any kind of access to your medical records, and I would have searched for any kind of indication/information that would have led me to the diagnosis that I was given for you on the night of September 16, 2023, that forever changed both of our lives.

I know you didn't want to be without Carl, and for years had been worried that you would outlive him (and you did). So, in a way, this terminal diagnosis was a blessing in disguise. You knew it would end in your death and end your loneliness & longing to be with your husband once again.

What bothered me was that you did not give me the chance to tell you that I understood why you did what you did. That I understood and accepted a LONG time ago my place in your life, always 2nd to a man. Being 2nd to Carl was not something I resented you for. Carl saved BOTH of our lives, and I will forever be grateful for him. 

I did not and will not hold a grudge against you for not getting treatment for your disease when you could & should have; I understand you wanted so badly to be with your husband, I get it. I also noticed that when the news of his passing was conveyed to you, you never shed a tear. At least not to anyone around you. You must have done your grieving in private or didn't grieve much at all because you knew it was a matter of time before you would be seeing him "on the other side."

.I wish you would have put a little more faith in me and allowed me to show you understanding and empathy, instead of doing what you do best: keep everything a damn secret. Showing me that you still do not believe I have ever grown up emotionally and mentally. If anyone has to take the blame for that, it is YOU. You were the one who raised me... and maybe on some level, you did blame yourself.

It saddens me that you could not see that I grew up to be very determined to be successful and an ambitious woman you could be proud of to call your daughter. Maybe you did, but I rarely if ever heard that from you. Praise for others came easily from you, but hardly ever for me. 

Aunt Helen helped clear up and educated me on the severe dysfunction that you and your siblings grew up with. Apparently "praise" was not something that was recognized, only faults that were acknowledged with violent punishments. It's hard to believe that Grandma never told you and your siblings that you made her happy or proud, Grandpa on the other hand... his blatant disregard of everyone's feelings or needs, that I can believe.

Mom, I want you to know that I get it now. I understand why you were the way you were. It was the result of a toxic childhood that you never truly got help for. Yes, you went to therapy in the past, but it didn't last long, and you went through a few therapists before giving up. 

I know you know that it takes WORK to heal from trauma of any sort; especially generational, but I also know that you had the tendency to avoid anything that resembled work in that regard. It was just easier to exude your authority over a child and surround yourself with people that would put up with your behaviors. It didn't go unnoticed as to how many "friends" came and went throughout your life. Especially who stayed and who left.

I'm not writing this letter out of spite; on the contrary. I'm writing it because it is therapeutic and to show that even though I kept my mouth shut most of my life when it came to you... but that I saw and understood more than you gave me credit for. Of course, I do not think that by some spiritual miracle that you would be able to see this blog on the world wide web, but that you would be able to "see" from wherever you are, what's in my heart & mind (this blog).

I also want you to know that I did what you asked of me when I first learned of your terminal cancer, and that was to see a therapist.

I was planning on doing that anyway because I was scared and afraid not knowing how I would handle dealing with the reality of your mortality, as well as I have never really been without you in my life in some capacity. In a way, you have always been my "security blanket" and now I was facing the end of having that. Facing the end of ever hearing your voice, seeing your face, spending time laughing at stupid shit I'd find on Instagram to share with you, running to you with any problem I was facing at the moment, facing The End of you. You have been the only constant in my life, so I knew this was not going to be easy for me. 

I really like my therapist a lot, and I have a long way to go to recognize, understand, forgive, and heal from my childhood that has caused and continues to plague me well into my adulthood. 

Yes, my childhood and the fucked up things that happened in it is your fault. There was no way I could have controlled any of that bullshit. And it was, absolute Bullshit. 

Do I think you could have done better? Absolutely. But you did as your parents did to you: the psychological, emotional, and physical abuse that you yourself were raised with. Was it right? No. And I believe you knew that. I also felt that in a lot of ways you were jealous and resentful of me.

Jealous because I chose a different life path that wasn't riddled with adult responsibilities at a young age, and resentful because I was a 24-hour reminder of a relationship that I believe you forced in some way. There was manipulation coming from both sides of your first marriage. I'm not blaming you 100% for everything that went wrong there... but you willingly married a man who had repeatedly told you he did not want children when you knew you did and married him anyway. Had a child by him anyway...

It takes 2 to create a life, so he's not off the hook either here. But this isn't about him. This is about you and I.

Yes, I blamed you for cheating me out of a 2-parent family unit as I sooo badly wanted a father like all my other friends had, as well as a sibling because I was extremely lonely. I don't know how you couldn't have seen that?? We moved 28 times from the time I was born until my sophomore year in high school. That is TOO DAMN MUCH! It messed with my education and social group(s) BAD.

So much so, that instead of taking responsibility for me struggling in school as a result of almost constantly changing the school/district I was put in, you convinced me that I was dumb and had a "learning disability." I grew up believing that crap when the real issue was you not being able to stay in 1 spot for more than 5 minutes. I think this was the cruelest stunt you pulled on me, and that says A LOT due to you not only being incredibly selfish, but having been described as Emotionally Unavailable, Emotionally Immature, and a Narcissistic Parent. 

Do you know how incredibly painful that is to hear about your own mom??? It CRUSHED ME.

Again, those descriptions are as a result of your own childhood experiences growing up with those exact kind of parents. I just wish you would have broken that cycle... Instead, I did. 

I don't mean for this "letter to you" as an internet ass-chewing, but letting you know how I feel and felt. It was not easy being your daughter and I wouldn't want to do it again; just know it tears me apart to admit that as I do love you to pieces. I just couldn't do this again with anyone. I believe the toxic household that you were raised in, directly caused the deaths of your eldest brother and baby sister.

Knowing that, and having been present for both of their funerals, I would have expected you to have done the exact opposite when raising your own child. There were times that I prayed to God to let me go so I could be happy. I felt more like a burden to you and those around me, than a blessing.

You had pawned me off on other family members and some friends from time to time, only to send a check to pay for my existence in their households until it was time for me to come home. I need you to know that hurt me deeply. Feeling that my own mother who tried so hard to keep me after having 6 miscarriages, doesn't want me around. I didn't know how to rectify that back then. 

Because of the conversations I've had with Aunt Helen and my cousin, it makes complete sense. In a way due to that understanding that I have now, I can forgive some. But not all. I know you knew better and still chose yourself and whatever man you were involved with at the time.

I think you thought that by having a child that you would always have someone that would unconditionally love you, and I did and still do. But you didn't factor in hurt and resentment for the way you treated me, especially when I needed you the most. 

I can thank you for the thick skin I've come to have, but I know that most of that is an unhealthy coping mechanism for which I am having to now deal with in a healthy way because I don't want to put anyone else around me through the crap I have gone through anymore.

It doesn't serve me well. It never did. I was just too stubborn and immature to see, much less admit to it.

What I can Thank You for is loving me, as much as you knew how to. 

The way you showed love wasn't so much in words or direct actions, but you made sure I had a roof over my head, food in my mouth, and on occasion, a pet to love. 

Even now after your death, you made sure that physically (for the most part) that I wouldn't want for anything. Yes, you left behind A LOT OF STUFF, but there wasn't much that I had to acquire for myself then and even now. I'm having to give away quite a bit of things that I will not or ever use. 

A fridge & freezer FULL of food, an apartment for the next 6 months to live in, a car that is paid off, a house & motorcycle that I will get 1/2 of the sale prices from, and a dog that means the world to me, is what you left to me, and I am extremely grateful for that! Thank You for it all. Even after your death, you are still "taking care of me." 

Those kinds of things were your "Love Language." I'm sure you would have preferred a different kind of "language" from me as well, I'm sorry that we couldn't have figured and worked this out between us while you were alive. Maybe in another lifetime we will get it right.

Bottom Line: I just need you to know that Yes, there were MANY things that hurt and affected me in ways that I do not believe you would have anticipated or really cared about, but that I understand some of why you did what you did, and after your death, more information keeps getting revealed. The revelations of the abuse you endured even as an adult while I was still a child, broke me. I cannot imagine what it was doing/had done to you. You didn't show much, and when you did, it was enough of a "shit show" that even Helen Keller could see and hear what was going on. 

I'm sorry that life, until Carl, had failed you so badly. I'm sorry that I wasn't the perfect daughter you always dreamed about. I tried, I really did until I just couldn't do anything right, and yet I still tore myself apart trying to make you happy and proud of me.

I know in my later years you said you didn't know why I thought that you weren't, but that was because for years you talked to me just like your parents did to you... not very nice and only pointed out everything wrong with you. I'm sorry you had to go through that. And when I say I know how you feel... I DO. 

I do miss you and listen to the few voicemails that I still have on my cell phone from you. I was going to change carriers but after finding out that if I did that, your voicemails would be gone forever, I decided to stick with my shitty cell service. 

The dog is doing OK, she's having a hard time adjusting to the "new normal", and I hope she doesn't have too hard of a time when I have to return to work. That is my main concern with her. I have and will continue to keep my promise to you to take care of her as best I can. 

She is all I have now. It's just me and her. 

I know she misses you and Carl too. I just wish I could get into her little head to tell her that everything will be OK, it will just be different. 

Thank you for leaving her for me. I couldn't do this alone I don't think... She reminds me daily of the promise made to you and Carl, as well as I have something to love and that loves me in return. 

Right now I'm operating on a "numb mode", and am still waiting for this major outburst of emotions that most people have when they lose their close family members. I was told it would set in around 2 weeks after your passing. I think instead of experiencing that "2 week meltdown", I had a consistent series of mini meltdowns over the past few months. I've been an internal, and sometimes external wreck since the night I called 911 and got your diagnosis. 

I tried my hardest to keep my emotions in check in front of you, much like you did to me when I was a kid and there was adult level turmoil you were experiencing behind closed doors, and when it got to be too much, I just let myself cry. I knew if I kept it all held in, it wouldn't be pretty when inevitably I would explode. I had to keep it together to keep my job because I knew the outlook was bleak, and that you weren't going to make it out of this alive.

I know you really wanted to try to fight the cancer for me, but I also know you couldn't wait to see Carl again. Thank you for trying for me. I know that it was sheer hell for you, and it was heart wrenching to watch you go through the nasty side effects of the chemo paired with the extreme disease advancement diligently and slowly taking your life while you are fighting to keep it. Know that I was there just about every single day, I didn't want you to be alone even if you were unconscious due to high doses of pain meds. 

Understand that I asked for the higher doses because it was evident that the original dosage was no longer effective in managing the pain. I made peace with the fact that I would never have another coherent conversation with you again; I just needed you to be free of the pain that I was warned about by your doctor. He described it as excruciating, and I didn't want that for you. I did my best, the best I could for you. I have to believe myself that it was enough. 

As much as I miss you and Carl terribly, I can finally say that I am glad that both of you are no longer suffering. I hope and pray that you have reunited with one another on the other side and are happy once again. I did as you asked and mixed your ashes together, and in the late Spring, I will scatter you both where you asked me to. I will make sure it is somewhere beautiful. 

This letter is a mixed bag of emotions, but humans are just that. Some more than others, and I am a perfect example of the "bag overfloweth." 

I assume that it will take some years to unpack all of the issues that still bother me to this day, as well as being able to accept and call what happened to me: Abuse. 

I know you didn't set out to purposely do that to me, but it's hard to hear that is exactly what happened to me by your hands. 

I need you to know that despite it all, I did and still do love you, and will always keep you and the memories of you in my heart. Both you and Carl. Thank you for giving me a father finally. You picked the best one. 

I love and miss you both.

Love your daughter,

Trisha