Where The Kids Are.

"Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you..."

I realized last week that overall, this blog has quite the melancholy tune to it most of the time. I realize that this is because this blog is where I reflect, where I remember, where I choose to share my grief. It's a much better option than hanging on to Old Jess, and dressing her up in black clothes and allowing sadness and depression to make their home in her heart. I have to look at life now as leading 2 separate lives: Old Jess, that girl that lived before Tim died, and New Jess, the girl that lives now. There is no other way to departmentalize my grief with my happiness. Otherwise, every time I smile, I would feel like I shouldn't be, because Tim isn't. Because he's dead. And I shouldn't be happy. (I know, this is not true, but you can't help those feelings that creep up...). So today, is a happy blog. It's a happy blog because there are so many things in this life to be happy about.
I have laughed so much these past 2 weeks, that my stomach hurts, and it's adding to my hopeful 6-pack abs. There is no better way to go through my life right now than with an abundance of laughter and ear-to-ear grins. I have enjoyed 2 theme parks, stumbled through wine tasting in Temecula, enjoyed a random day, that led to a random evening exploring Pacific Beach dive bars, and luxuriously hung out by the pool at the Catamaran Spa. New Jess loves this life. She loves waking up and never checking the weather because it's always nice. She loves that she can drive only an hour and a half to get to the Happiest Place on Earth. She loves catching the sunset over the ocean. I've said it before, and I'll say it again probably every week- my friends and family make me smile, and laugh, and help me remember that I'm alive every day. That just because Tim is gone, that doesn't mean I'm completely gone too. It just means that I have changed, and I have adapted, and I have learned to live a new life that doesn't let the darkness in. It means that New Jess is allowed to enjoy a few months of being purely selfish (in a good way) and taking care of myself. For my heart, it means that I have known deep love, and a true partnership, and some people never get that. Some people never get the chance to have an epic love story- one that puts them on their feet, that makes them happy and sad, that makes them scream out loud and laugh out loud, that makes them feel like the world is complete. Because of this, I am able to live life happily, no matter what comes my way. I emerged OK. I emerged changed, different, but still OK. And still happy. It's seriously a wonder sometimes.

I love that line that I started with... "Grief doesn't change you, it reveals you." I see the world in a different light, and I believe that many people see me in a different light as well. I never knew that I was so strong. That I had such a voice. It was revealed to me that I am surrounded by the absolutely most incredible people, and that the world introduced me to people that have changed my perception and, overall, my life. I have found the joy in the world again, and I found it on my own. 

Tim sent me this song one day and wanted to go see this band in concert. We didn't end up going, but every time I hear this song, I think about him. I think about letting go and just living life with no fear. Living life as a kid. Running free, playing, laughing. I'm so happy that I have found my inner kid again. That I'm starting to find myself again. 

Where The Kids Are- Blondfire

I can't blame it all on you
Cause I'd be wrong
All in all, all all, in all
You're such a beautiful girl

Don't take my chances
Smile for the lenses

Live it up, you're growing up
Parties in the wilderness of life
Light it up, just give it up
Where the kids are running free tonight

The cars on the avenues
Can wait in line
All in all, all all, in all
Lived out this innocent time

Gold roads leave Kansas
Scarecrow loves dances

Live it up, you're growing up
Parties in the wilderness of life
Light it up, just give it up
Where the kids are running free tonight

They're running free tonight
They're running free
They're running free tonight

Live it up, you're growing up
Parties in the wilderness of life
Light it up, just give it up
Where the kids are running free tonight

Live it up, you're growing up
Parties in the wilderness of life
Light it up, just give it up
Where the kids are running free tonight

Where the kids are running free tonight
Where the kids are running free

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xVKFmNMQVTg

The Scientist.

"He got into bed and we lay there together under the covers, me on my side, and Gus on his back, my head on his bony shoulder, his heat radiating through his polo shirt and into my skin, my foot tangled with his foot, my hand on his cheek. When I got his face nose-touchingly close so that I could only see his eyes, I couldn't tell he was sick. We kissed for awhile and then lay together listening to The Hectic Glow's eponymous album, and eventually we fell asleep like that, a quantum entanglement of tubes and bodies..."

After finishing The Fault In Our Stars this week, I have found myself going back and re-reading it. It's moments like the one described above that really hit my heart, that really bring me back to a year ago, that really suck the air out of my working lungs. That paragraph could have bee written about us, and this particular moment could have taken place any day of the week, when Tim was sick, and when he wasn't, when we were living apart or together. Moments like those are what I go back to- what I remember with so much emotion and heart, what I remember with a smile and sigh, what I long to go back to. Music was an important outlet for both of us- an escape, a way to emote. Tim almost always had music playing when we were laying in bed- we would lay there, listening to the words, silent except breathing, running hands through each other's hair, just being in the moment- our moment, like no one else existed in this world and we were the only one's left.
I've never had a great memory- I thank my dad for this annoying flaw, and it has been an issue of argument in the past with ex-boyfriends. I think even Tim would get annoyed with it- I sometimes can't remember the smallest things, or things that I heard the day before, or someone's name 5 seconds later. But I remember the important things with Tim. The moments that matter.
The First Time We Met- I was standing in the downstairs office hallway at Iron Pony, talking to a co-worker in their office, and Ivan and Tim walked through the door. We shook hands, and I can't remember anything that was said because my head was screaming inside. I was smiling like a fool.
The First Time We Kissed- 3 days later, while watching Eastbound and Down awkwardly on his iPhone.
The First Time I Said I Love You- 10 months later, on a street corner in Indianapolis.
When He Told Me He Had Cancer- Sitting on a park bench outside of the Laguna Cliffs hotel in Dana Point, while Sophie played with her frisbee. I was still in my bathing suit and cover up.
When He Told Me He Needed Me To Move Here- Security line at the San Diego airport. I was maybe 15 people away from getting through the line and to the other side.
The First He Told Me He Loved Me- The moment I pulled up and got out of the car from a long, hellish day of traveling and moving there. He looked so much worse than when I visited him a month prior. He gave me a huge hug.
When Doctor Reismann Told Us He Was In Remission- I skipped through the hospital parking lot, smiling, and laughing, and screaming. I had to go back to work and I wanted to shout it out loud from the rooftops.
When He Told Me The Cancer Had Come Back- He was sitting on the couch, playing video games. I kissed him goodnight and turned to go to bed. He said, "Guess What?" "What?" "It's back." "Huh? What's back?" "My cancer." I was dumbfounded. I went to bed and cried for 2 hours.
Our Last Real Moment Together, When He Wasn't In Too Much Pain, and Coherent- On his Last Good Day in the hospital, when everyone was visiting. We had about 30 minutes of alone time, with the door closed, and we just tangled ourselves together, a mess of bodies and tubes. He told me, "I'm sorry we haven't had much Bear Time together lately."
Our Last Kiss. 

This blog really helps me remember our time together- our numbered, yet amazing days. Days that will never be forgotten by me, days that will live on as some of the most beautiful days I have experienced in this life. Days and moments that are precious to my heart, my mind, my lungs. I appreciate you taking these journeys back with me, and helping me step forward. I appreciate you listening to my stories, to my "What Ifs", to my "If Tim were here" tales. Thank you for taking care of me in Tim's absence. I know he worried about me and what would happen to me if he passed away. I think he would be thankful that I'm surrounded by strong, loving, caring, and beautiful people. People that have acted as my legs to walk me forward, my brain to think straight, my eyes to see the world before me. People that laugh with me, that cry with me, that smile with me.
My favorite line in "The Scientist" is "Oh, take me back to the start". I wish to start our journey again. Take it from the start. From that first hand shake. From that first kiss. From that first "I love you". Before that last kiss. And everything in between.

The Scientist- Coldplay

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you I'll set you apart

Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles, coming in tails
Heads on a science apart

Nobody said it was easy
It's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be this hard
Oh, take me back to the start.

I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

Nobody said it was easy
Oh it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy
No one ever said it would be so hard
I'm going back to the start

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RB-RcX5DS5A

Passenger Seat.

“It seemed like forever ago, like we'd had this brief but still infinite forever. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities..."

I started reading "The Fault In Our Stars" by John Green this week. I've been avoiding reading it for quite some time, as it deals with a cancer love story that I'm sure ends up like mine, but I had an urge to read it, so I gave in. I've heard so many good things about this book, and the movie comes out this Spring, so I sat down at a coffee shop in Pacific Beach, and started on Page 1.
I fell in love immediately with the book because it reminded me so much of Tim. It's incredibly witty with cancer humor. It's made me laugh way more times than I have wanted to cry, mostly because I relate to all the things that she points out in the book, and Hazel points them out in a way that Tim would have. No sugar-coating, here's the reality of the situation, and that's how it is. She refers to "cancer perks", and I think Tim's favorite cancer perk was the Handicapped Parking Permit (or he would correct me with "It's Disabled!"). Tim's doctor offered after every visit to hook him up with a disabled parking pass for the times he didn't feel very well, but Tim would always refuse. He finally accepted this generous cancer perk, and let's face it, as San Diego residents, it was the best, though only, cancer perk he received. Unless you count the free bottle of water he got at the Amy Shumer show. He also would have gotten to go up and hang out with Oracle Team USA in San Francisco if the timing had worked out correctly. That would have been an awesome cancer perk to experience. I think he would also count how the nurses swooned over him as a cancer perk, though to be fair, they would have swooned anyway. I had to be prepared for a cat fight at any given time. I remember one ER nurse had all her IV tools resting in his lap (totally unprofessional- use the tray next to you, ya big dummy), and she kept rubbing his leg, and the entire time he was smiling and laughing in my direction. I had to stop my eyes from rolling out of my head. The only reason he was ever excited to go to the ER was to see how many nurses he could make fall in love with him. I miss that smirk on his face that said, "See? It's awesome."
I've been keeping pretty busy lately, and that definitely hasn't gone unnoticed by my friends and family. The reality is, I can't stay still for too long. I need to constantly be doing something. Monday night, I had nothing planned before my training session, and I was so antsy. I felt like I was just running circles around the house for no reason. I've been taking all that energy that didn't have a home after Tim died, and redirecting it toward myself, which is a good thing. Sherry has helped me set personal goals for myself, so I focus energy toward that, Sarabeth has me focusing energy on our adventure nights, and getting out in San Diego more, the dogs obviously focus my energy toward getting them out and about. I just feel like there are constantly things that I need to be doing, that I should be doing, and I really just wish I would just stop for a week. A week would be nice. I have been reading a TON more than I was (it's probably about time I actually get a library card), and some days, that's all I want to do. Escape into a book.
As you may know by now, my favorite band is Death Cab for Cutie. I love every one of their songs. Ben Gibbard could sing me "Heart of Darkness", and I would fall in love with it. When I hear his voice, I'm immediately calmed. Immediately in my own little sanctuary. Immediately home. I love "Passenger Seat" for several reasons- it's beautiful and hopeful. It reminds me of the happy times I spent with Tim just driving up the coast on little trips. Staring out the window at the vast ocean. I used to feel so anxious when we did these little coast drives before I lived out here- knowing that I would be leaving him and that moment could be heart-wrenching. I used to fight sleep so that I didn't miss a minute- a minute of him, a minute of laughing, a minute of the world.

 

Passenger Seat- Death Cab For Cutie

I roll the window down
And then begin to breathe in
The darkest country road
And the strong scent of evergreen
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

 

Then looking upwards
I strain my eyes and try
To tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

 

"Do they collide?"
I ask and you smile.
With my feet on the dash
The world doesn't matter.

 

When you feel embarrassed then I'll be your pride
When you need directions then I'll be the guide
For all time.
For all time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRxCmL1Yre0

I'll Be Seeing You.

“I know you can't live on hope alone; but without hope, life is not worth living. So you, and you and you: you got to give them hope; you got to give them hope.” 

Through part of our lives, we live in a bubble. We are happy, and content in our bubble. We smile and laugh and play in our bubble. We learn and we grow in our bubble. We know things go on outside of this bubble, but they aren't necessarily affecting us, so we go on living in this bubble. With one quick revelation, one catastrophic event, one life-altering moment, your bubble can shatter to a million pieces. And you now stand on the outside of everyone else's bubble- a loner looking in.  But you start to realize that you stand with people who also have broken bubbles. People who also have had to pick up the pieces. People who are trying to use their bubble-shattering event for good.  People that embrace you and carry you on through the "bubble-less" world. 
As I stand in my own bubble-less world, I am hoping to make a tiny difference in someone's life. It could be to open their eyes to Tim's battle and the long road ahead for lung cancer survival rates to increase- a community advocate for lung cancer that sees hope.  It could be just to be a good friend- someone that listens, cares, and never judges. I hope that I haven't been faulting too much as a friend these past few months. I see so much beauty in all my friends and loved-ones, and I love they don't treat me like a broken butterfly.  I see the looks and feel the awkwardness from people that aren't close to me that know my situation. I know that it's not something that someone my age would say, "My boyfriend passed away from cancer last August... no, he didn't smoke... no, he wasn't old... yes, I'm ok... ), so I try to gently tell people this. But it doesn't matter if I gently say it, or blurt it out, I still get the "broken butterfly" look. Or I get asked for my phone number, which seems like a ridiculous gesture after the bomb that I just dropped. 
I met a girl named Julie a few weeks ago at a lung cancer fundraising event. She actually spoke at the Free To Breathe 5K last year (which was held 3 days after Tim's death) and I remembered her speech so vividly. I actually have a picture of Karlene and I framed in my room, listening to her touching story about the friend she lost to lung cancer. Her friend was only 26. Beautiful, healthy, 26 year old. Gone in a year. Her bubble was shattered. Julie, like me and so many of other Tim's family and friends, felt helpless after her death. She wanted to do something to make a difference. So she joined the Free to Breathe family (formerly the National Lung Cancer Partnership), went to the advocacy retreat in Texas, and is the 5K chair for the race here in August. I was so happy to meet her. Bubble-less people unite. She's a true inspiration, and I joined her committee for helping put together the 5K this year. I'm also on the Relay for Life committee (which happens to be the weekend before) so my August is looking to be pretty busy. I had dinner with my friend Kristin a few months ago (a cancer survivor), and she is co-chair for the Relay For Life here in downtown San Diego. She offered me the committee role, and I said yes immediately- one because she's also such an inspiration and amazing advocate in the cancer world, and two because I was eager to do something, anything. So my plea is this- find it in your hearts to donate to either or both of these causes. Ask your company, friends, family to be a sponsor of one of the races (Free To Breathe registration is coming soon, but we're looking at business/hospital sponsors now!). And don't forget to head over to ThreadStart to buy the lung cancer apparel to benefit the Lung Cancer Alliance (promotion goes until March 9th I believe). I already bought 2 shirts. :)
Tim loved listening to jazz music, and I heard this song, "I'll Be Seeing You" this week and thought about him. It's haunting, yet hopeful and beautiful. And it's so true. I see him in everything. I feel him in everything that I do. I hear him in everything that I say. I remember him every time I think about how beautiful this city is, how wondrous this state is, how perfect the temperature is. 
I see you in everything, Bear. I know you're here. 

"I'll Be Seeing You"- Billie Holiday

I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day and through

In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children's carousel
The chestnut trees, the wishing well

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDlKb2cBAqU

I Kill Giants.

"I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful..."

During Shavasana in my yoga practice on Sunday, I pictured myself floating in the ocean. Quietly. Serenely. The warmth of the sun on my body. The salty air filling my lungs. It's a place I can escape to where there is no Tim, no memories, no friends, no family, just me. No one can touch me there. No one can interrupt the blissful wind, or the sound of the water, or my breath flowing in and out. I can't be hurt, or sad, or angry there.
But then, I have to open my eyes, and return to reality. 
I have felt sort of lost lately, wondering aimlessly around week after week with no real sense of urgency or purpose. I  feel like since Tim is gone, I haven't really had much to look forward to in my daily routine. I miss watching Jeopardy. I miss cooking him dinner. I miss coming home, opening the door, and seeing his face. I miss his texts. I miss his emails. I felt so centered, so peaceful, when he was around. I could be me, he could be him. Sometimes I wonder if we should have been more crazy, more urgent, in trying to find him alternatives to the chemo. Sometimes I feel like if I hadn't been so damn adamant that he was going to live, that we would have tried harder to find the best of the best of the best. I still truly can't comprehend his absence from this world, and mostly because I'm fighting it. If he is gone, then I failed him.  
I have been taking some of that leftover energy and investing it more in myself. Training sessions with Sherry every week have made me feel more physically and mentally strong. She's going to help me get where I need to be for when I turn the big 3-0 in May. I think helping myself get stronger  is a good way to focus some of that lost feeling, some of the loneliness, and some of the anger.  

Tim and I saw The Naked and Famous in concert together in Columbus, and we were actually disappointed in the show. We were so pumped for the concert- Tim flew in for it because we had both been listening to their album and loved it, and the show was $5. I remember them playing really quietly. It was odd. And they had no stage presence. I still like the band, but I will say their first show was not what we were expecting. I heard "I Kill Giants" the other day at work and almost couldn't hold it together. I'm pretty good at silently crying at work, tears falling on my desk, and I just continue to "work". I'm pretty sure no one notices. The lyrics punched through my heart and made it hard to breathe. Sometimes I have to run to the bathroom to get myself together- pace back and forth in the handicap stall and wait for my brain to start functioning again. I don't know if this will ever go away. I did hear "West Coast" in the car on the way back from Santa Ynez this weekend (visits up there are priceless to me), and I smiled and started belting it out. I got about 3/4 of the way through before I started crying through the singing. That're progress considering I can't even listen in the first 8 notes of "Transatlanticism" without losing my mind. 

"I Kill Giants"- The Naked and Famous

the end of june came
and took you away
we were all crying
felt like i was dying

black dress & black shoes
tied laces for you
the saddest of days
why couldn't we save you?

inside my head
at the edge of the bed
where somberness lay
in your children that day
as goodbyes are spent
holding on to what's left
the saddest of days
why couldn't we save you?

nothing but ashes
in the old fire place
with all of the memories
he has erased
heavier heels
his mourning concealed
on the saddest of days
why couldn't we save you?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1I56yYHxP2k

All At Once.

"There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love..."

The difference and learning from last Thursday and Friday was that it's much easier for me to celebrate Tim's birth, than to face his death. Celebrating Tim's birthday was a nice day for me- we did a bunch of things around the city that Tim and I probably would have done- go to breakfast at The Original Pancake House, go to the zoo, get cupcakes, go to the dog beach, go to dinner. Laugh, smile, breathe. Friday rolled around as the 6 month anniversary of his death, and I was in a much sour mood than the day before. Friday was not a celebratory day- I couldn't smile and fake my way through it. I had mood swings about every hour, and I just let them pass through as they needed to. I cried on the way to work, during work, on the way home from work. But Thursday was a good day. It was a day to remember Tim, how he affected us in different ways, how he made our lives better and more comedic, how he changed our perspectives on things and challenged us. It was a day to celebrate that he was in our lives, for however long he was able to, and we are better for it. We are changed for it. And that's something to celebrate.

Sarabeth surprised me on his birthday with a bear that she made (with the help of the precious pups Bailey and Sophie). It was a TimStrong Bear- a bear with Tim's style, right down to the hoody and ray-ban sunglasses. It was seriously amazing. She told me that she had been thinking about making it for awhile, but didn't know if she should or not. Then the night before Tim's birthday, she woke up in the middle of the night, and she saw him standing in her room- standing next to her dresser, in a baseball hat, dressed in white. She blinked, and he was gone, but she knew it was him. She told me she wasn't scared to see him, and it was only the second time she had ever experienced anything like it, but she knew that he was here, watching over me, making sure that I was ok. It was the most reassuring and emotional part of that day for me. I'm so glad that he's here.

I went to Logan's birthday party this Sunday, and it really hit me how Tim is not here to see him and Baby V grow up. Or here to read stories to Soraya and Ellison. Or here to see how cute Jude looks in his new Nikes I bought him (so cute. ridiculously cute). That's one thing that I really, really loved about Tim- he loved and took interest in all the kids and young adults in his life. He spoke of his cousin, Rachel, quite often- and he was so proud of her dance ability. He would send me videos of her all the time at work, and every time I would watch So You Think You Can Dance, he would comment on how much better she was than the dancers on the show. He took a real interest in Hannah, and was so proud of her for winning at Loretta Lynn's last year- he beamed with pride when he heard the news. I only hope that he's watching over all them now, guiding their decisions, boasting about their accomplishments.

The first 4 lines of "All At Once" basically sum up my last year. The world can be very overwhelming to me at times, and sometimes there is nothing anyone can say or do that will ease my mind, or my pain. Without Tim, the world is different to me. The world isn't as bright, or funny. The world isn't as lovely, or beautiful. The world isn't as simple. 

All At Once- Jack Johnson

All at once, 
The world can overwhelm me
There's almost nothing that you could tell me
That could ease my mind

Which way will you run
When it's always all around you
And the feelin' lost and found you again
A feelin' that we have no control

Around the sun
Some say it's going to be the new hell
Some say it's still too early to tell
Some say it really ain't no myth at all

We keep asking ourselves
Are we really strong enough?
There's so many things
That we got too proud of
We're too proud of
We're too proud of

I wanna take the preconceived
Out from underneath your feet
We could shake it off
And instead we'll plant some seeds
We'll watch them as they grow
And with each new beat
From your heart the roots grow deeper
The branches, well they reach for what?

Nobody really knows
But underneath it all
There's this heart all alone
What about when it's gone?
It really won't be so long
Sometimes it feels like a heart
Is no place to be singing from at all

There's a world we've never seen
There's still hope between the dreams
The weight of it all could blow away
With a breeze
But if your waiting on the wind
Don't forget to breathe
Because as the darkness gets deeper
We're sinkin' as we reach for love

At least something we can hold
But I'll reach to you
From where time just can't go
What about when it's gone?
It really won't be so long
Sometimes it feels like a heart
Is no place to be singing from at all

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_1Qf912W_JM

Swimming.

"Just living is not enough... one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower..."

I love living in San Diego. I love the people that I have met and have become close to. I love the sunshine and the breeze. I love my job and the people that I work with. I love the endless possibilities to fill my time. I love the active lifestyle and the healthy choices. Just take out that piece of me that aches and cries and misses Tim, and I have a damn near perfect life out here. So to speak .

I was scared to move out here, and not for the reasons you immediately think of. I wasn't scared about Tim's diagnosis, or how hard it might be for us. I wasn't scared to move in with him when we had really only ever technically spent a few days together max. I wasn't scared to find a new job. I was scared to meet people- to make friends. I was scared that people here wouldn't be nice, or that I wouldn't fit in. I was scared I wouldn't have anyone to talk to or go to dinner with, or that people wouldn't want to help me deal and cope with my home life. What I found out here was the complete opposite. I have found the most wonderful group of people- people that are genuine, and kind, and have helped me shine in a way that I never thought possible during such a dark period in my life. They have offered more to me than I will ever be able to repay. I feel like I've known these people much longer than a year and a few months, and they have quickly become my home-away-from-home, and though there's nothing more comforting that curling up on Mom's couch, with a glass of wine, a blanket, and a movie, and being around the people that have known you the longest, these amazing people out here have given me the comfort, laughter and love that I needed.

I really love this song, "Swimming", by Florence and the Machine. When I hear songs that remind me of Tim, and our life together (and there are so many, as our life was set to a soundtrack), I can't help but feel heavy, sad, angry. I remember being so happy to hear those songs (especially Transatlanticism, which I still cannot listen to without having an epic meltdown), and now they make my heart sink. One day at a time, I will be able to listen to these songs with joy, but now I just feel so lonely listening to them. I get pains of loneliness often, and they aren't painful because I feel lonely, but rather I'm lonely without Tim here. There's a difference. I'm always surrounded by people, and we're always laughing and having a good time, but my heart is never full. My heart is always lonely and aches for Tim, and nothing else. Though, so good cuddle time with the Sophs can definitely help.

Tomorrow is Tim's birthday. Give a little shout out to him if you have a free moment. Drink a crown and ginger ale, or just a ginger ale and toast to him. Karlene and I have a good day planned, and I know he will be there with us.

Happy 33rd birthday, ya Bear.

 

 

Swimming- Florence and the Machine

 

Your songs remind me of swimming
Which I forgot when I started to sink
Dragged further away from the shore
And deeper into the drink

Sat on the bottom of the ocean,
A stern and stubborn rock
Cause your songs remind me of swimming,
But somehow I forgot

I was sinking, but now I'm sunk
And I was drinking, and now I'm drunk
Your songs remind me of swimming
But somehow I forgot

I tried to remember the chorus
I can't remember the verse
Cause that song that sent me swimming
Is now the life jacket that burst

Rotting like a wreck on the ocean floor
Sinking like a siren that can't swim anymore
Your songs remind me of swimming
But I can't swim any more

Pull me out the water, cold and blue
I open my eyes, see that it's you
So I dive straight back in the ocean
So I dive straight back in the ocean

Take a deep breath, suck the water in my chest
Take a deep breath, suck the water in my chest
And cross my fingers, and hope for the best

Then all of a sudden, I heard a note
It started in my chest and ended in my throat
Then I realized, then I realized, then I realized
I was swimming,
Yes, I was swimming
And now I'm swimming
Yes, I am swimming

Your songs remind me of swimming
Which I forgot when I started to sink
Your songs remind me of swimming
Which I forgot when I started to sink
Oh, your songs remind me of swimming
Which I forgot when I started . . .
Your songs remind me of swimming
Which I forgot when i started . . .
to sink.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2pSFd-K4uU