Perfect Memories

"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived."

-George S. Patton, Jr.

I cannot believe how rapidly time flies. How quickly life can change. How fast grief can turn to gratefulness.

It has been almost a year since D, M, T & J lost their lives, and almost a year and a half since Mark lost his.

I’ve look back at the person I was a year ago and I am honestly stunned at the person I am growing into.

I have learned how to deal with loss, grief, anger, sadness, and every other emotion in between at the hands of those wonderful five men. My life has been truly blessed because I had each of them in it.

While I still miss them and still think about them daily I no longer feel like I am drowning in the pain of it all anymore. I can finally talk to their families without the five of them being the main and only topic of conversation. I can share stories about them again, and I can truly laugh, and feel OK laughing, at my memories.

Time did not heal me. I healed me. I am so proud of that. I feel accomplished and successful. I know that my friends would feel the same.

Though they are physically gone from me, they are all alive and well in my heart and I know deep within my soul that they are watching over me.

I miss you my friends.

Thank you for loving me.

"Do not stand there at my grave and weep;

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand there at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die."

-Gwydion

Video: Remy Zero - Perfect Memory.

World Trade Center - The Movie.

I watched The World Trade Center (movie) today.

For those of you that aren’t aware, I am very emotionally involved in the collapse of the twin towers. I lost Mark’s mom on September 11^th. I lost Mark five years later because of it. I was in NY on September 13^th after taking a grey hound bus across Canada to Toronto and hitch hiking a ride across the border with a Canadian Blood Services team.

I was able to spend a lot of time at ground zero with Mark, Dominic, Toby, Jesse, and Matt (aka: The Boyz) helping to do whatever was needed. I made food, handed out water bottles, DNA tagged body part remains, assisted with first aid for the men and women working in the wreckage, organized WTC security ID cards that were found, helped put up missing posters, helped clean rubbish and scrap metal…and once I was allowed onto the actual wreckage site. I was allowed (with NYFD assistance…) to climb some of the wreckage and just sit and cry surrounded by the insanity of it all. It was like being lost in a world of smoke, fire, and ash, and though there were people working on the site, there was this horrendous silence.

I helped Mark move, packed his apartment which was three blocks away from the WTC site and bought him new furniture for the home on Long Island that I found for him, I carried a leather hide-a-bed couch SIXTEEN bloody blocks because we were not allowed to get a moving van any closer. I planned my 2^nd mom’s funeral and held Mark, Dominic, Jesse, Toby and Matt together as the insane Italians descended.

I have had to spend a lot of time with the insane Italian’s since 9/11 and while I am able to recognize that they are all truly crazy, they are also some of the most amazing people I will ever have the pleasure of knowing and calling “family”. They are the family that I choose, not the family that I was born to, that makes them all the more special.

The first anniversary of September 11^th I went back to New York to be with my Boyz and participate in the memorial service(s). I held Mark’s hand as he climbed the rickety stage stairs and read his mother’s name out loud. I was able to reconnect with some of the true hero’s (and heroine's) I met and worked with and was held closely while I grieved the horrendous loss of it all.

I have lost everything I held dear and true because of the events of 9/11. I will never forget September 11^th or anything that has happened since. It is too soon, and I am still to raw to be objective about the movie I watched today…so without further ado, here are my thoughts about it.

In some ways, watching this movie was almost like watching a cartoon…the graphicness of the buildings collapsing didn’t really seem to affect the actors emotionally. They seemed much removed and not at all emotionally involved.

Maggie Gyllenhaal was a complete disaster in this movie. It was like watching a robot try to be human. It pissed me off.

Michael Pena (aka: Will Jimeno) was…well…almost as bad as Maggie Gylenhaal (who was playing his “wife” in the movie.) but at least made an attempt to stretch his emotional abilities as an actor. It still came off as very poor and weak.

Nicholas Cage…as soon as I heard he was going to be the “lead” (John McLoughlin) in the movie I thought “aww, Jesus…seriously?!?!” and sadly, my opinion hasn’t changed. There was no sense of panic, urgency, despair…nothing…but he did have ONE speech at the very end of the movie that touched me.

“9/11 showed us what human beings are capable of. The evil, yeah sure, but it also brought out the goodness we forgot could exist. People taking care of each other for no other reason than it was the right thing to do. It’s important for us to talk about that good. To remember. Because I saw a lot of it that day”

- Nicholas Cage as John McLoughlin.

I hated the idea of this tragedy being made into a movie, regardless of how tasteful it was done, but I was willing to at least make an attempt to embrace it. I know Hollywood is going to continue to attempt to profit from this insufferable nightmare. I know they will continue to slot pathetic actors and actresses into true hero’s roles and watch them fail miserably. This will be the last movie or gimmick from Hollywood regarding September 11^th that I spend my money on.

Hollywood should’ve asked the REAL hero’s from that day to play the parts. I recognize that most of the men and women who were a part of the initial few days after the Towers fell would most likely not want to be involved in a project attempting to re-create that day. They probably go to sleep with it every night and wake up with it every morning. I know I do.

This movie could’ve been amazing. It could’ve been about the undeniable ability that the human race has to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and continue to lead true, honest, real lives as best as they can. Instead it was about…nothing.

Hollywood made no attempt to show how the world rallied around the events of September 11. They made two very weak attempts to portray how many people from all over the globe came rushing to the aid of New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania. They showed none of the candle light vigils, none of the shocked and horrified people grieving on the streets, only a few of the missing posters from a hospital wall, none of the fire house and police house memorials…they didn’t tap into the emotional investment people felt (and still feel) because of this event. It was all very clinical and much removed.

The only honest and raw part of the movie came at the very end when they ran the NY Port Authority list, the NYFD list, and the NYPD list, of the fallen hero’s from that day.

This movie was made to soon, and it was made badly. No wonder it completely flopped at the box office. I hope the Hollywood money makers take that into consideration the next time they try to exploit something so very painful.

NOT ENOUGH

It is really hard to fathom for me that it has been 1 year since I lost Mark and 8 months since I lost T, J, D, and M.

So much has happened to me and the world at large since they have been gone. I’ve gone back to my Live Journal (see blog roll for link) and read my moved blog entries from that time frame and while I can recognize that I am no longer overwhelmed with grief, I am still very raw.

I wrote this in May 2005, when I learned of T, J, D & M’s deaths. I was still dealing with losing Mark (though all of my entries from that time period were lost when yahoo ate my old ID…*sighs*) and then I got what I deemed to be the final blow...

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want to run like a lunatic down the street screaming at the top of my lungs.

I want the world to know this kind of devastation.

I want the world to fear this kind of devastation.

I want to hear them all screaming with me as they too suffer this kind of living hell.

I want to be selfish and keep this grief all to myself.

I want to be angry at my friends for leaving me alone.

I want to be angry at the war for taking them from me.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want my friends here with me so my screams can turn to laughter.

I want to feel whole again.

I want to wallow in the darkness I am living in.

I want to dance in the light with my friends.

I want to be anywhere but here.

I want to be anyone but me.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want to be all these things because all I am is numb.



I am raw. Angry. Lonely. Bewildered. Ashamed. Frightened. Miserable. Rejected. Proud. Useless. Enraged. Incapable. Defeated…I could go on and on…I am a complete contradiction. Once, I had friends who understood me, now I am left to understand myself and that thought terrifies me. Once, I had friends who knew my soul, now I am left to nurture myself without their loving guidance. Once, I had friends who were like brothers. They were closer to me than any sibling I have. They were my family. They were everything to me. There is not a memory of my life that I have that doesn’t include them in some way. I am scared to create a life without them in it. I cannot imagine my life without them in it. At this moment, I cannot imagine life.

I remember every single moment, every single thought, every single feeling, every single…everything. I set out last year to learn how to nurture and love myself. I set out to find a life worth living without them in it. I accomplished so many things. I know they would be proud of the woman I am becoming but it is still NOT ENOUGH.

I still reach for the phone every single day to call them and talk to them. I still email them because I cannot bring myself to remove them from my distribution list. I still talk to their families and share stories, memories, and their suffering. I still talk about them all the time. I still fade into bleakness when I am taken by surprise by a person that reminds me of one of them, or a song on the radio that triggers memories…so many different times throughout every single day I feel besieged with the pain of my loss.

I know I spent a good chunk of 2006 learning how to COPE with loss but at these times it is all I can do to not drown in it. Sometimes I am strong enough to “get over” my feelings rather quickly, other times I can feel myself spiral down into my beautiful blackness.

I miss my friends. I miss my brothers. I miss my life. Time does not make this easier. I know I am sinking now because it is the anniversary of Mark’s death. I can add all the reason and logic into this that I want but it is still NOT ENOUGH. I should’ve waited before taking them to The Rock. I should’ve waited until now. I could be suffering in beauty then. It’s been ONE YEAR and I feel as lost today as I did 365 days ago.

I know it will never truly be ENOUGH. The only way it will be enough is if they could come back to me and life could carry on as was once normal.

How does someone move on, away from, the people who knew her heart the most intimately? How can someone be expected to do that?!?!?!? I truly wish I had the answers to those questions…and to anyone that says “time” I am gonna lose it on you *smiles sweetly*. Time heals nothing. It may make the ache less poignant, but it doesn’t take it away. It doesn’t replace the people. It doesn’t do anything but march on and force you to comply.

I wrote the above almost one year ago. I am still asking myself the exact same questions today. I feel really lost and alone right now. I don’t know if this is ever going to be something I can deal with.

I took a walk today with my puppy love and released five more balloons with personal messages written on them for each of my dearest friends. I released a balloon for me as well. I want to be with my friends so badly. I cannot imagine another fifty years without them. I had to do something to honor their lives today of all days, but it still feels like it is NOT ENOUGH.

Lonestar - Not A Day Goes By



I’ve Got a picture of you I carry in my heart

Close my eyes to see it when the world gets dark

Got a memory of you I carry in my soul

I wrap it close around me when the nights get cold

If you asked me how I'm doin' I'd say just fine

But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind



Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by



I still wait for the phone in the middle of the night

Thinkin' you might call me if your dreams don't turn out right

And it still amazes me that I lie here in the dark

Wishin' you were next to me, your head against my heart

If you asked me how I'm doing I'd say just fine

But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind



Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by



Minutes turn to hours, and the hours to days

Seems it's been forever that I've felt this way



Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

I Believe

What a journey I have been on. Despite hating everyone I feel is responsible for making me go through this I am now somewhat grateful for my experience. I wish with my entire being that my Boyz were alive and safe again, but that will never be my reality. This trip to Jasper was about starting to accept that. I think I actually accomplished that.

I woke up on Saturday morning, showered and ate breakfast with Lance, packed the car, and I was off. I turned up my tunes, turned my cell phone off, and starting talking to my friends. At first I felt like a complete moron for having this animated conversation with invisible people but once I got into the swing of it I really let myself go. I told them everything I’ve ever wanted them to know. I yelled and screamed at them for dying. I re-lived some of the stupid funny moments I shared with them. I drove through small towns and sobbed like a hysterical mad woman in front of warped statues. I stopped at the Wal-Mart in Hinton and bought 5 helium filled balloons and attached messages to each of them.

I pulled into Jasper about 5 hours after I left home and registered at my hotel. I dropped my bags off and hopped back into the car to go to The Rock. I had about 4 hours of daylight left. I went to Maligne Canyon and started the hike down to the rock carrying my Boyz’ urns and my balloons slipping and sliding down crooked jagged iced over terrain. I made it down to The Rock and I wish I could show you how beautiful it was. The water was still rushing madly but ice had formed on the edges of the Canyon and was starting to solidify on top of the water. The sunlight danced across the brilliant blues. One perfect ray of sunshine was shining across The Rock. No one else was around. I was totally alone in this somewhat tamed part of the wilderness.

I curled up in the ray of sunshine on The Rock and slowly and finally grieved for each of the wonderful men that I lost. I openly addressed them individually and released their balloons and their ashes. I watched them dance in the wind and I listened to the trees whisper. It was a peaceful moment for me and I knew I was finally coming out of the chaos that my life had become since I have lost them.

As I was releasing Toby’s balloon and ashes I got totally busted by two Park Wardens. Not only was I off the marked and guard rail path, I was “littering” in a Government Park, as I was informed by the Wardens, I was also looking at a $10,000 fine. I figured if I was looking at the fine I would at least finish what I came there to do so I finished my goodbye to Toby and released him to the wind and watched him dance through the trees. I then gave my attention to the Wardens.

I came off The Rock quietly crying and hugging their urns tightly to me. The Wardens must’ve thought I was either seriously insane or really just broken. They asked me (again) what I was doing so I explained what I was doing and why. I gave them all of my personal information and turned my back on them while they debated on whether to ticket me or not. I wanted to watch the sun set. I needed to watch their ashes find their resting places. I needed to watch their balloons dance through the trees and fly. I didn’t care about a ticket. I knew when I went there that what I was doing was illegal. I simply didn’t care.

I must’ve struck something in one of the Wardens because he just kept telling me he was sorry for my loss. He must’ve had seniority over the other one because all that ended up happening was they helped me climb back up the trail to the parking lot and made sure I made it to the highway safely. I am grateful for that.

I went back to my hotel and spent the night curled up on the patio of my room watching the stars flicker across the lake and just sat silently remembering every moment of my life that included them. I let my heart dictate my time and I gave it what it needed.

I have started to accept my new reality without them. I also know that they are watching over me. I know I will see them again. I believe.

Diamond Rio – I Believe.

Every now and then soft as breath upon my skin

I feel you come back again

And it’s like you haven’t been gone a moment from my side,

Like the tears were never cried,

Like the hands of time were pulling you and me.



And with all my heart I’m sure we’re closer than we ever were,

I don’t have to hear or see I’ve got all the proof I need.

There are more than angels watching over me



I believe

Oh I believe



Now when you die and life goes on,

It doesn’t end here

When you’re gone every soul has found a flight

It never ends if I’m right.



Our love can even reach across eternity.



I believe

Oh I believe



Forever you’re a part of me,

Forever in the heart of me,

I will hold you even longer if I can.

Oh the people, who don’t see the most,

See that I believe in ghosts.

If that makes me crazy then I am



Cuz I believe

Oh I believe



There are more than angels watching over me.



I believe

Oh I believe



Every now and then soft as breath upon my skin,

I feel you come back again

And I believe.

On a different, today when I got home Lance and I decided it was time to get our house festive. We put up our Xmas lights outside and we put up our Xmas tree. We are still searching for the perfect lit up lawn ornament, but in the meantime, here are a few pictures.

Lest We Forget

Remembrance Day.

Why does saying that sound so much more gut wrenching than if you were to say “November 11^th”?

Tomorrow is Remembrance Day. It is a day to honor the brave, and a day to pay tribute to their ultimate sacrifices.

Tomorrow I am taking my Boyz to The Rock. Tomorrow I am taking them home. Tomorrow I will honor them, pay tribute to them, and spend as much time as I need to remember them and how deeply they have touched my life.

My dearest truest friends, 5 incredible men, gave their lives for their country. They gave their lives for a cause they really didn’t see a reason to believe in. They gave their lives for a foreign country they felt was beyond saving.

I went to my follow up support group today for the first time in weeks. I am really not coping well with this at all. I feel like I have lost them all over again. Satna reminded me today that all that is required of me is baby steps toward healing and moving past this. My steps are so small it feels like I am not even moving, but apparently, acknowledging my reluctance to accept their deaths is a huge step.

I haven’t quite worked out how I am going to drive the 4 hours to Jasper…I’ve got my CD’s burnt and they are full of music that recalls memories of them. I’ve got my route plotted by map so I can stop and see some of the crazy statues and re-live some of my favorite moments I spent with them. I’ve got my hotel room booked. I’ve managed to convince Lance that this trip is something I need to do alone…but I haven’t figured out how I am going to keep the car on the road when I get blinded by tears.

Tomorrow is going to be one of the worst days in my entire life. Tomorrow is Remembrance Day.

Please take 2 minutes out of your lives and pause to remember those who have fallen. Remember the sacrifice the men and women who came before us gave to us so we could live in a democratic free society. Remember.

The Story Behind The song / video above: On November 11, 1999 Terry Kelly was in a Shoppers Drug Mart store in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. At 10:55 AM an announcement came over the store's PA asking customers who would still be on the premises at 11:00 AM to give two minutes of silence in respect to the veterans who have sacrificed so much for us.



Terry was impressed with the store's leadership role in adopting the Legion's "two minutes of silence" initiative. He felt that the store's contribution of educating the public to the importance of remembering was commendable.



When eleven o'clock arrived on that day, an announcement was again made asking for the "two minutes of silence" to commence. All customers, with the exception of a man who was accompanied by his young child, showed their respect.



Terry's anger towards the father for trying to engage the store's clerk in conversation and for setting a bad example for his child was later channeled into a beautiful piece of work called, "A Pittance of Time".

A beautiful montague: http://www.military.com/VeteransDay/VeteransDayTribute.html

In Flanders Fields - John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.



Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep,

though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

I Wish

Its been quite a day.

I spent the early morning hours killing a virus that had somehow "mysteriously" gotten onto my computer (and noooooo...the porn pop up link that was visited couldnt have had anythingt to do with it...RIGHT?! ...I mean GHEESH...I gave the man free safe sites to go look at women, why do it the wrong way!?!? )

Having finally killed the virus (arent ya proud of me MEB, I didnt pm you panicking once! I just wont tell you about the Computer Programming Chat Room I found and the nerds in there that helped me...), I ran my entire system through a billion different scans and clean up programs...then I backed up everything onto a billion more data disks (ok ok maybe not a billion, but the total so far is 48 and Im only half way done )

I cleaned out my folder of all the stuff I wanted to blog but never got around to...hence why there are a few entries today....and I organized my out of control music file and re-loaded my mp3 player cuz my song list was gettin boring

I talked to some of my Boyz' family members today. I called them all just to touch base and to let them know that I was thinking of them, and their son's (or nephew in Mark's case)...It seemed like a good idea at the time...now I am not so sure.

Mark's family is in the midst of trying to prepare for the fifth aniversary of September 11. Mark's Aunt is taking it very hard, as she does every year, but she actually got really angry with me when I told her I wasnt coming to NY for 9/11 this year. I am not ready to see D & M's graves. I am not ready to re-visit Mark's grave. I cant do it yet.

T & J's Dad is in the midst of moving out of Boston to Florida (whyyyyyyy?!?! the man hates the heat!!...but whatever...he wants to be an old retired gigalo ) and he wants me to come down and visit in January...I bartered for February cuz thats when its coldest in Alberta *lol*

D's widow (skrag, skank, ho, twatwaffle...need I go on about how I feel about her?! *smiles sweetly*) is getting married again ...it seems she met someone while D was in Iraq and they are gonna get married...that's gotta be a record...the ink is barely dry on his death certificate.

M's dad is moving from Cali back to NY because he (and I quote) "Hates fucking palm trees" so I am going to make him a paper-mache palm tree for Christmas

Today I really miss my Boyz. Not that I dont miss them everyday, but today, for some reason, they are on my mind alot.

Jamie Foxx - I Wish You Were Here.

To Where You Are.

So after Action Group on Tuesday Satna decided that I was in no way, shape, or form, done with what I had started to recognize.

She pushed me HARD all week at every opportunity she had. By Thursday morning she was actually cursing at me and called me “fucking impossible” to which I could only laugh and say “well…DUH!” she then went on to ask me if I even realized how hard I make things on myself. She asked me if I had any idea how hard a time I give people who truly care about me. She asked me all kindsa things, but before I could answer any of her questions the day was over.

This morning in large group she came back at me with “well Christine, I hope you have done some thinking and are prepared to work now” and I just looked at her like she had suddenly grown 3 heads and I wasn’t sure which one to focus on. The group moved on a little into the topic that had been brought up and she kept circling around to me just to let me know that I wasn’t off the hook and that I wasn’t done yet. *sighs and bangs head*

I sat there and thought about what it is she is so desperately trying to make me realize and so aggressively trying to teach me. It finally got through, it took me a few days to figure out and of course, being me, I had to do it the hard way by working against Satna instead of working with her, BUT, I got there. I still don’t know how I figured it out. But I definitely had an “AHA!” moment (yup…hands raised up, angelic noises and all *lol*)

Satna is trying to teach me to TOLERATE my loss and my pain and all the un-comfortableness that comes with tolerating it. When I am finally able to tolerate my pain and sense of loss in ALL aspects of my life ~not just with my Boyz~ I will finally quit depriving myself of other people who are able and willing to care about me. I will be able to enter into healthy exchanges with people I come into contact with and take what caring is offered to me from them without looking to twist the caring offered into something destructive or unsatisfying.

If I continue to re-live the loss of my best friends I will not look to cultivate other relationships that could potentially alter and change my life like the friendships I had with them. I will be left alone to wallow in my self created misery. I realized that I am capable of forming similar types of connections with people and they won’t diminish the memories I have of my Boyz but they will enhance my life and enrich me in other ways. In ways I need.

All I have left to do now is figure out HOW to do all of that. *sighs and continues banging my head against my desk*

When she circled the conversation back around to me again in large group this morning after I truly put some thought into it and said all I had to say she actually applauded me. Everyone else was like “damn, how’d she get there on her own!??!” and I was still sitting there looking at Satna like she had 3 heads because she’s clapping like I just performed a brilliant stunt at a circus…which, in some ways, I guess I had.

I guess it really is time to say goodbye to the men who have shaped and filled my life. I know now that goodbye isn’t “I’ll forget you next week” or a tarnish on their memories, it is simply something I have to do to heal and make myself into the type of person they all knew I was. I actually believe this goodbye…which is, to me, completely different than uttering the words because someone thinks you should…

I only have 2 more weeks of therapy left. The past 16 weeks have FLOWN by. I am feeling some serious anxiety about having to leave group and venture on into the world on my own without Satna to lean on and to kick my ass every day…I told her that today, she just laughed and said “ohhh Christine, you have been so good for me…you keep me on my toes…you wont forget everything I’ve helped you learn. The wisdom, knowledge, and guidance you need will appear to you when you need it most” and then I stunned her by breaking into tears AGAIN. I swear to gawd all I’ve done this past month is cry. Mark used to tell me the EXACT same thing…Hearing it from Satna just screwed up my brain.

I am super stressed about returning to work. I’ve been off since February (yea, I know, I can feel all your hearts bleeding for me *lol*) and SO many changes have happened in the company since I’ve been off that I don’t know where I am going to fit when I go back. Hell, I’ve had 3 managers since February and I never met any of them before they were either moved to different departments or let go all together. My entire team has changed and I don’t wanna sit in a cubicle beside people I don’t know *pitches a small fit*

I’ve got a lot of changes coming up before the end of the month. Leaving group, going back to work, going to NY in September to see Mark & M's & D's gravesites along with a side trip to Boston to see T &J's gravesites, re-joining my Karate Do-Jo for 2 nights a week, going to a scrapbook club once a week with some pretty fun women I met, swimming 3 times a week, promising myself to get back on my eliptical trainer to break my ass at least twice a week ...it's all overwhelming me at the moment, though I do believe the choices I am making are healthier and will make me happier.

I’m gonna cruise, Lance is determined to go to a freekin football game (and its POURING rain outside *sighs*) so I’ve gotta go find my snow suit AND my rain suit…aren’t I gonna be just a little sex pot?! *lmao*

Smooches to everyone who has loved me through yet another nightmare. I cant promise that I will never talk about them again, but I can promise that I wont be bleeding and raw about them anymore. I am taking the steps to healing and I am feeling alot better and not quite as empty.

Josh Groban - To Where You Are.

Fireflies

It's been a rough day. Actually, its been a rough 7 months, but hey, who's counting? *sighs*

I've been having some really BAD dreams latley. They always wake me up screaming. I am dreaming that I am patrolling some remote desert area looking for signs of ...lord knows what...and then I have to stand and watch as all my Boyz get blown up in bombs that are hidden in the sand and as I rush to each of them individually they all die, one by one, in my arms...I've been working on this dream in other groups but I am apparantly not making the progress the therapists determine as valuable (or something...who knows...) so Brennan and Satna singled me out for today's Action Group topic of "If you could say anything to any one in your life, dead or alive, what would you say? and who would you say it to?"

Today Brennan "made" me put my Boyz in chairs and "made" me say whatever I needed to say to each of them individually. Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to pour your heart out to empty chairs in a room full of people who have experienced similar types of losses, but still dont understand YOUR individual grief?

I stared at these chairs for about 5 minutes, not saying a word, just having a literal flashbacks of every memory I have of them individually and all of us together. My brain kept singing the first song I chose to include in this blog. I remember when all of us used to play "Star Wars" and I was always Princess Lea (*ugh*)...I remember when Mark used to catch frogs and chase me around the block on his bike threatening to throw it at me (and yes, I ran screaming)...WHY isnt this getting easier????

Brennan just let me stare at these chairs and sob my heart out....the entire room just sat there quiet and still...waiting...Satna was the one that kept on pushing me. (yea, I know, big suprise) She flat out told me that if I was going to heal AT ALL I NEEDED to say good bye to them. I am so NOT ready to say good bye to these men. I have grieved them, I have been angry, sad, confused, and every other emotion in between...but I just dont know how to move past this. I am trying so damn hard to over come this that I feel disconnected from it now. Satna kept pushing me, I kept fighting her.

Grant was the one that broke me today. He got up from his chair after watching me fight mentally and emotionally against Satna with every ounce of strength I possessed, sat down in Mark's chair in front of me and said "Kris, I know you are mad at me for leaving you, I understand and its ok. You know we all love you and that we will never be truly gone from you..." ...and thats all I remember him saying because at that point I actually screamed "Shut the fuck up" and hit the floor sobbing so hard I could barely breathe while he kept talking to me like he was Mark.

It's been just over 7 months since I lost Mark and just over 2 months since T, J, D & M were killed. I have tried to...ok, thats a complete lie...I've wallowed in my guilt, grief,and anger. I have allowed my complete rage at the situations that were completely beyond my control to completely control me. I have given into my pain and I feed it daily. If I dont see something or someone that automatically reminds me of any of them I search for things, people, situations...anything really...to make me feel the loss over and over again. Satna got through to me today.

When I got myself "pulled together" I actually screamed at the chairs. I had a complete melt down at 5 empty chairs. I told them all that I thought they were complete assholes for joining the Marines. I told them all that I thought they were selfish, moronic, assholes. Christ that hurts. My best friends are dead and all I could do was scream obscenities at them.

Satna finally got me focused through my amazing rage and I was able to get down to what I really wanted them to know and what I remembered about each of them and why they were so special to me as individuals rather than the group my brain tends to "lump" them together in, and I finally said Goodbye to each of them. I dont really remember the words I said but I do know how empty I felt after I said them.

I remember when I was a little girl and I had all these dreams and all these "When I grow up" statements...I never imagined that life would be like this. I feel like I want a complete RE-DO in life. I want to do it all over again...actually...thats another complete lie...I just want life over with. I am so tired of feeling broken.

The Little Things

Today I learned, ok, well, TRIED to learn, the value of little things.

It was so harmless it didn’t even strike me as monumentally impacting.

Today at group we all decided to “go out” for lunch to this little Italian bistro restaurant place which is about 2 blocks away from the hospital. I mean really, lunch at an Italian restaurant…seems totally innocent right?

WRONG.

I walked into this restaurant and it smelled just like Mark’s mom’s kitchen used to smell when she had spent the day doing her brilliance in the kitchen (damn that woman could cook!) when we were having a family get together, or just a simple meal all together.

So, I get over my intial “OMG memory” moment and sit down. I open my menu and there I find “Italian Sandwich” highlighted and displayed as the lunch special. Now, this sandwich was Mark’s mom’s specialty. It takes patience to make it tastes like the best thing you’ve ever eaten and she never failed. It’s an Italian sandwich on crusty bread filled with salami, pepperoni, ham, mozza cheese, pizza sauce, spicy red pepper pesto sauce and then any veggies you like.

So, giving into temptation I order one. It shows up at my table and I take a bite. Again, seems ohhh so harmless right? WRONG. I dunno what the hell is wrong with me lately, but every time I turn around I am being besieged with memories of Mark and the Boyz and their families and I always end up in tears…and it’s not a pretty cry either.

So, as I am face down on the table SOBBING my freekin eyes out, THE song comes over the speakers. Swear to gawd I thought I was going to die. This song was one of Mark’s FAVORITE thug-chico-wanna-be songs. I haven’t heard it since he was killed. It is on my MP3 player, but every time I think my player is getting close to that song I hit forward, forward, forward to make it go away.

The Song - Knockturnal - Muzik

I spent the morning in group talking about my Boyz and how unique and important each of them were to me. I wanted to go have lunch with some friends from group and just have some laughs and unwind to get ready for the afternoon but NOOOOOOOOOO fate is just to damn cruel.

*sighs*

Satna heard about my…display…in the group after lunch and she worked with me for over 45 minutes to help me recognize and understand that the memories I have of them are the little things that I have to treasure and welcome when they decide to appear.

Sorry, but I am just not there yet. I am still wayyyyyyyy to raw to welcome the memories that still seem more like nightmares.

Wishes

On Friday when I checked the mail I received the shock of my life. In the mail amongst all the bills, junk flyers, and other things I found a simple envelope addressed to me in handwriting I did not recognize from a country I have never been to.

It piqued my interest immediately, so before waiting till I walked back to my house (damn I miss door to door mail!!) to open it, I decided to rip it open right then and there. My impulsiveness is something that I am going to have to learn how to control; such is the lesson I was to learn.

Inside this envelope was a letter from a Soldier in Iraq that was in the same base camp as my Boyz. He was never sent out of the camp, for reasons unknown to me, so as he went on to explain, letters and memento’s and other important things were always left in his safe keeping to send home to loved ones in case the men that did get sent out of the relative safety of the base camp didn’t make it back.

He told me how sorry he was for my loss of Mark, T, J, D, & M and then said how sorry he was for not having the ability to forward this letter to me sooner. He told me about all the talks he had engaged in with all my Boyz and reminisced about some of the stories they told him about all of the crazy things we all did together. He reminded me that I was loved and cared for and that my pain was not solitary in its existence.

Inside the envelope from this kind Soldier was another envelope folded in half with just my name & address written on it. As soon as I saw the writing on that envelope I knew who it was from. My heart almost stopped. I started to cry and shake and then I realized that I felt like I was going to pass out. I hit the ground with a thud on a neighbor’s front lawn and just sat there staring at this seemingly innocent white piece of paper that had somehow traveled to me.

I received a letter from Mark.

In this letter Mark told me how proud of me he was. How proud of me he had always been. He told me that the best memories of his life included me, no matter how horrifying the reason for me being there. He told me that he never truly understood the word LOVE until I arrived in New York 5 days after 9/11 out of the blue because I couldn’t get a hold of him and simply sat in his office at work until someone finally found him and told him to come in immediately. He told me that he admired my strength and my ability to just know what needed to be done and doing it during that heartbreaking time. He reminisced about some of our earliest times together. He talked about all the places we had been together, all the places we wanted to go together and made me promise to take him to those places when I go. He told me that he didn’t want to leave me and that he didn’t want to die. He apologized over and over for doing both of those things, because if I was reading this letter, he was gone. He told me what I already knew, that I was the executrix of his estate and that the majority of life’s little things, he left to me in his will. He asked me to keep his treasures safe and to use them in my life to grow and evolve. He reminded me about the balloon oath we all made one day when we were hiking in the mountains and suddenly saw this brilliant red balloon float by. It looked like an angel was carrying it with the way the sunlight and clouds were formed around it. He asked me to promise to bring him home and let him eternally rest at The Rock. He told me that I will forever be loved and cherished and that I will always be watched over and guided by him because he is in my heart and soul, just as I am in his. He asked me to forgive him for joining the military after 9/11.

~That decision was our first real fight in almost 20 years of friendship. We were both screaming at each other near the end of it. Something in me knew that if he got sent to hell he wouldn’t come home from it. I begged him not to go. I begged them all not to go. I am now left with the eternal knowledge that my intuition was correct and the numbing loss of my 5 dearest truest friends~

He asked me to remember everything I have learned through life and through his guidance into all things that are enlightening. He reminded me that though I may be learning something I may not understand at the moment, there will come a time that I will need that knowledge. He asked me to rely on my instincts and to keep my heart open. He told me that I am the dearest friend his heart has ever known and that I was a blessing to him and his family. He told me that I am cherished and treasured, that I am valued and respected, and that I am deserving of happiness. He then left me with a final piece of advice, which I am still amazed at. Even when he wasn’t HERE with me, he was still always here with me. He always knew what my heart and soul needed to hear. He left me one final moment of clarity before he told me that he loves me dearly and signed his name with an “xoxo” underneath and finished the letter.

And where might you be headed?
To a place of UNDERSTANDING.
To a knowingness
of your importance, INFINITE;
of your reach, IMMEASURABLE;
of your power, UNLIMITED;
of your worth, INCALCULABLE.

Only when pressed with darkness, can you begin to seek the light. And how could you understand your authority… if you had not first relinquished it? How could you find your way, if you had not first strayed? Now, your experiments with darkness, limits, and fear have long outgrown their use. It’s time to wake up… to remember… to know… that

YOU ARE FAR MORE
than the role you’ve been playing.

YOU ARE

the light,
the power,
the way...
For whom
ALL THINGS
are possible.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I have been in close contact with T & J’s family. They still want me to come to the funeral on the 28th but I have officially declined their invite, though I appreciate the kindness in which the offer was extended, I have no wish to put myself through another Italian funeral. T & J’s dad has promised to send me their ashes so I can fulfill their wishes and the promises I made to them. D & M’s family has also promised to do the same. My locket should be ready in early July which means I will be able to keep them all close to my heart as I take them to where they want to be.

Lance is a little angry about me needing to do this road trip to The Rock alone. He is doubly concerned and adamant that he should come with me now that I am pregnant. I have promised him that I will respect my body’s limitations, and if that means I cannot hike to the top of the Angel Glacier but only walk to an area just off the parking lot and into the meadow before the hiking trail starts, so be it, I will only go that far. He wants to come with me and has promised to remain out of the way ~ which is impossible to do in a car. Am I wrong in demanding my final alone time with my dearest friends? Am I wrong in my final decision to go alone? I know deep within my soul that I will need every moment of the trip to remember them all in all the ways they have touched my life. I will need every moment of the trip to cry and wail and laugh and simply grieve. I don’t want to share my loss. I dont want to have to explain what I am thinking or relive my memories outloud because I will feel forced to include him. He has never met them, he doesn’t know them. To me it feels like I would be bringing a complete stranger on a final heartbreaking trip down memory lane. It feels like interference. It makes me feel angry. It makes me feel guilty for being angry because I know he is just trying to care for me.

T & J’s dad has decided to honor his Sons wishes and have this beautiful piece read at their funeral. I am quite proud of him for making that decision, as I know he is a devout Roman Catholic and this is going quite against the grain. It is his way of showing a final respectful tribute to the beautiful, brilliant Men he raised.

"...supremely happy, in a "place" of profound and unspeakable beauty. A place where all are bathed in showers of unconditional LOVE. I am home, and before long, you will be too, and we will be together always. But until we embrace again, let me also share this with you... so that you can better understand those things that may trouble you the most:

I now know that the love I feel here was at all times on earth too, and all one must do in order to feel it, is to KNOW it is there. This love that shines on you now is there to comfort and console, to heal and restore, and to bring laughter and joy. You have set lofty goals for yourself and the challenges you've chosen are admirable, but with this love and the faith that you can do all things, even these noble callings will one day soon be little more than baby steps in your march to gaining dominion over every time-space illusion. You will prevail. Your dreams, as well as the obstacles placed on your path, are gifts given you so that you might sooner see this Light that now surrounds you.

Of these gifts, my parting was one. You need not be sad, for even now I am with you - though you must close your eyes to see me. The illusion of death presses one on to greater understandings, for only when faced with darkness can you begin to properly seek the light. A light that will reveal that there can be no endings, goodbyes, or sadness, without beginnings, reunions, and happiness, and that you and I are unlimited Beings of Light adventuring throughout creation so that we may rediscover the magnificence of our own divinity. We are Gods rolling like thunder through the heavenly landscapes of eternity, where there are only miracles, there is only love, and Everything is holy.

Before you on earth there remain infinite possibilities for the most fulfilling time of your life, in a universe conspiring on your behalf. The world is indeed your oyster, though your "work" is not yet done, and you will be happiest if you cling not too tightly to the past. But if you must, take solace in your times of sorrow by knowing that I am always there, that I will be at your triumphant homecoming, and that I too have prepared a place for you in a blissful celebration that is only just beginning.

I love you so. I am happy."

I wish I could say that after 6 months of dealing with the grief of losing mark, and 1 month after losing T, J, D & M that I am able to make more sense of their passing, that I am able to remember memories with the soft tranquil light of fondness and love, rather than with rage and unspeakable loss. I wish I could say that I am not angry at them for not listening to me, for having to do the “manly” thing and go blow up another countries buildings because they blew up ours. I wish I could say I understand.

…but mostly, I just wish I was with them.

Coming Home

The Boyz are being shipped home on Monday June 26. Why it has taken them over a month since they were killed to ship them home is beyond me, but the families & myself are ready to proceed with the funerals and I will be having my own memorial alone with them at the Rock sometime in July.

I would love to go to each of their funerals as I did with Mark, but unfortunatley they are being held on the same day in 3 different states so it is an impossibility. I am still talking with T & J's family who wants me to come to Boston to be there when their ashes are blessed...Im still debating...I think I will end up not going. I cant choose favorites between them all. M's funeral is in FL and D's is in NY...while I was closest to T (after Mark) I still feel guilty as hell for choosing him over the others.

I think my memorial with the crazy drive through all the weird towns and hiking one last time to the top of Angel Glacier and then finally hiking down and into Maligne Canyon is the most fitting tribute I can do for all of them. I have decided to keep a little part of all their ashes. I am going to make a 5 peice heart shaped locket which I can keep their ashes in and wear to keep them with me all the time. A silver craftsman, who happens to be a great friend of mine, is creating it as we speak. *smiles softly*

Insanity.

Over the past few days in group I have been trying to deal with my horrendous loss. I have had people relate to me, I have other people that get pissed off at me. I have had a mirage of different feelings, thoughts, emotions from a variety of different people.
Brennan (a therapist) made me (yes, literally, MADE ME…swear to gawd he’s a freekin sadist) act out in a role play my favorite memory of ALL of us together. Me & My Boyz. I couldn’t pick a favorite memory. I became completely overwhelmed and totally lost my composure and he wouldn’t let me just cry. He decided that reenacting something from my memory was the truest way to recognize that memories are all I have left.

I couldn’t do it. I tried. I came up with a memory of all of us sitting on the beach in Florida, J with his guitar, T & M singing, Mark stroking my hair, D just kicked back listening to the fire crack and pointing out the constellations of stars to me (and I still cant see any of them…*sighs* anyway…) that was my memory. The one I was willing to reenact and work on anyway.

So, I picked different people in the group to “be” my Boyz. I didn’t realize that I had picked the people that they are most like until David started talking and all I saw was T. His mannerisms, His gestures, His tone of voice…EVERYTHING. It was like looking at T. I had another complete breakdown. Brennan kept pushing me and pushing me. At this point I was like a 2 year old having a temper tantrum. I was curled up on the floor (because my head was supposed to be on Mark’s leg…anyway…) in a tight little ball and I just started rocking and screaming NO over and over again.

Brennan let me scream till I couldn’t do it anymore. He then asked the entire group to form a circle and give me their perceptions/opinions/feedback on the scene and that’s when shit got UGLY.

Anyone that knows me knows I protect the people that I love. I am not kind about it. I am not subtle about it. I will get right in your face and break you down until there is nothing left of you. I enjoy it. I thrive on it. And that’s what Brennan was trying to teach me.

Anyone that knows me knows I protect the people that I love. I am not kind about it. I am not subtle about it. I will get right in your face and break you down until there is nothing left of you. I enjoy it. I thrive on it. And that’s what Brennan was trying to teach me.

David told me that he felt in complete control, that I gave up every shred of personal power and control I might’ve had and handed it ALL over without question. I made him my unqualified unwilling guide in a scene I should’ve controlled. It was MY heartbreak, MY memory…it was all mine, but I subconsciously shifted the responsibility of it to David. David asked me how often I do this with people that I am comfortable with. The honest answer was too much. That’s when Brennan jumped back in.

I thought I would be dealing with my grief today, but it became about the quality of attachments I form and the type of person/personality I form them with. I never even thought that my Boyz all gave me something my dad never did/would/could until Brennan told me that in my Boyz I had simply found my “Father Figure” and so I attached on to them and focused solely on their friendships. No one else mattered to me. I had finally found what I needed/wanted. And now because of that, I am left feeling very isolated and very alone. It's even worse knowing that I am feeling that way because I PUT myself into this situation to begin with.

Brennan drug me kicking and screaming towards a very painful hurtful thing. I feel my memories of my Boyz and all my time spent with them is becoming tainted now. I feel myself becoming insanely angry. I want to keep the 5 Men that loved me dearly in the cocoon of glowing memories that I have created for them to rest in. I don’t want them twisted into something evil and malicious on my part….but it’s happening.

Then, Brennan, just getting into the swing of things with me, decided to ask the group about the attachments I’ve formed with them. Turns out that the men in the group feel that I am forming “Father Figure” relationships with them as well. *sighs* I truly don’t understand that. But, Brennan wasn’t quite done with me…as we were winding down the group he looked at me and said “Christine, insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. You’ve got a lot of work to do on this. We have to end there.” And the group ended and I was left beat up, used, and spit back out.

I am angry, incredibly hurt, sad, confused, torn…you name it. I am a complete mess. Psychotherapy fucking sucks.

Musical Memories

For Me

Douse me in hollowness,

secure me in numbness.

Construct for me the pathway to serenity.

Feed me the fuel of sophistication,

Spoil me bare in stability.

Nudge me into the hole of forfeit.

Sever my insecurity,

Destroy my decaying image.

Protect me from the foul thoughts

In the deepest clefts in my mind.

Grasp my hand as we gallop into absoluteness.

I curled up tonight and listened to My Boyz band and some of our other favorite bands. The smartest thing I ever did was ask them to record some of their stuff. At least I can now have their voices whenever I need to hear them. I sat here and cried my eyes out while their words kept repeating over and over on my computer and the memories kept playing over and over in my mind.

I had a really good laugh remembering the days we recorded some of the stuff and how crazy funny we were. The day M decided he wanted to attempt a re-do of a Lords of Acid song and asked T & I to do the back up, so T & I were in the booth, HAMMERED, bumping and grinding like lunatics trying to make M mess up…laughing our asses off trying to get the girlie squeeeeeel of the song “just right” while D sat in the recording booth trying to take our laughter off the track ….*howls with laughter* that is my favorite memory of T.

I listened to J play his guitars…his solo tracks and the one with the beautiful Spanish guitar and I remembered curling up in front of a camp fire with the stars shining brightly, the mountains dark images behind us, everything around us dead silent except for the spark and hiss of the flames while J played. That is my favorite memory of him. The quiet interludes that were just us and we could just be together and enjoy each other and the world around us.

I listened to some bad NYC rap just for D. He loved that thug shit. He was so much like Mark. My favorite memory of D is when he pinned me beneath the dashboard of Mark’s “pimpin-thug-wanna-be-chico-mobile” when Mark decided to make it bounce thru SOHO like an idiot in rush hour traffic and everyone in the car was scrambling to hide *lol* I ended up on the floor pinned beside D under the huge dashboard and we were hanging on to each other laughing our assess off singing “This is D-Block, Mighty Mighty D-Block” at the top of our lungs *lmfao*

My music player eventually got to VNV Nation and I had some time to curl up and think about M. He was the most like me. The two of us could always find trouble together. We thrived on it. *grinz* We had inside little jokes that could set the other off at the most inappropriate moments (like the time we were in Boston attending Easter Mass with the Crazy Italian family of T & J) We had so much fun road trippin’ in high school. We used to do tours of Alberta’s small towns to see all the wacky weird and wonderful crap towns will do to get traffic in them. (And I don’t care what you think M; the statue of the Perogy with a fork stuck thru it was far better than the statue of the huge duck!! *lol*) M was my twin in every sense of the word. Whenever M & I would curl up and talk about any topic under the sun, VNV Nation was always playing in the background.

VNV Nation - Beloved

It's colder than before;

The seasons took all they had come for.

Now winter dances here.

It seems so fitting don't you think

To dress the ground in white and grey.

It's so quiet

I can hear my thoughts touching every second that

I spent waiting for you.

Circumstances afford me no second chance to tell you

How much I've missed you.

My beloved do you know

When the warm wind comes again

Another year will start to pass?

Please don't ask me why I’m here.

Something deeper brought me than a need to remember.

We were once young and blessed with wings.

No heights could keep us from their reach

No sacred place we did not soar.

Still greater things burned within us.

I don't regret the choices that I made.

I know you feel the same.

My beloved do you know

How many times I stared at clouds

Thinking that I saw you there?

These are feelings that do not pass so easily.

I can't forget what we claimed as ours.

Moments lost though time remains.

I am still proud of what we were.

No pain remains, no feeling.

Eternity awaits.

Grant me wings that I might fly.

My restless soul is longing.

No pain remains, no feeling.

Eternity awaits.

These Men are my brothers. They are my best friends. They are my support system, my fearless adventurers, and my guides along the path of life. Music was always involved in anything we did. We always found our souls in music. There was never anything that couldn’t be said better when a melody was attached to it. I don’t think I am ever going to understand this loss. I don’t think I am ever going to accept it. I don’t think I am ever going to be able to create friendships like the ones I had with them. I don’t think I want to.

How does someone move on, away from, the people who knew her heart the most intimately? How can someone be expected to do that?!?!?!? I truly wish I had the answers to those questions…and to anyone that says “time” I am gonna lose it on you *smiles sweetly*. Time heals nothing. It may make the ache less poignant, but it doesn’t take it away. It doesn’t replace the people. It doesn’t do anything but march on and force you to comply.

They all offered me something so different… J bought out the “fight champ” in me…no one can piss me off quite like that man *lol*…T centered and calmed me…M made me laugh and just let me know that his shoulder was there if I needed it…Mark just let me BE…I didn’t have to be weak, strong, angry or anything else, I could just decompress…D gave me the logical kick in the ass…and all of them together made up the whole of me. I knew that I could run to them with anything at any time and I would be taken care of, loved, protected, safe, encouraged, supported, cherished, laughed with (and at *lol*)…I don’t know what I am going to do without them. As much as I wish I could say “oh, I’ll imagine what they would say/do and just say/do that” but I know I won’t be able to.

It’s been a ...rough...few days. I feel like I should just have a phone surgically attached to my head. I don’t think there is a remaining family member in any of their families that I haven’t talked to. I can officially declare that I am never befriending another Italian for as long as I live *lol* they are all crazy, even if they are some of the best people I have ever met *lol*

I ran my brain on some of my favorite memories of all of us together. From the day T got his red contacts (that still makes me shudder and laugh at the same time...) to the day M got his teeth surgically sharpened (gotta admit, it looked pretty cool), to Marks fascinated horror at the rubber bands in bondage a go go in LA, to the Halloween party in Salem where we all scared the shit out of each other and I couldn’t sleep for weeks (all you boyz are still a buncha assholes for that *lmao*), to Mardi Gras and body paint that was more like super glue (lmfaoooooo @ D&J when they got stuck together), to "Loonie Cruises" out to see all the weird and fucked up things small towns do to get on the map ( I still think the perogy with the huge fork stuck thru it was the winner! screw the unbelievably huge duck! lmao), to " I NEED to see mountains", to Pete's for milkshakes, to the caves and getting ridiculously lost in them because SOMEONE (Mark *smirks*) was just "too cool" to tie a rope around his waist and SOMEONE insisted on leading us all into terror (lol), to the weekly "debates" where we would all converge and argue ourselves into hysterical laughter, to scrabble (swear to dawg I am never playing that shitty game ever again), to spending quiet afternoons in the butterfly room at the Devonian gardens, to the corn maze (where Mark once again got us all lost…seriously…why did we allow him to lead so often!? *lmao*), to hiking and just sitting on top of a mountain and listening to life in the silence, to hitting all the fetish clubs in NY, MA, LA & CA and terrifying D & Mark (lmfao @ the look on their faces when a pair of tranny's in sequins hit on them), to Jasper for spur of the moment A&W teen burgers, to music and all the concerts and shows and writing and recording and everything else we all did surrounded by music, to writing poetry and baring our souls,....and I could go on and on....but those are some of the memories that really bring them all back and make me smile (and howl with laughter...D sometimes I really feel for ya *lmao*)

The one thing I regret is not going camera happy and getting pictures of all of the times...not that T woulda let me take pictures of him anyway *grumbles* what few pictures we all have of him had to be snapped quickly and then ya had to run for your life *lol* but still...it would be nice to have a lot more pictures of all of us. I am grieving the loss of my old yahoo account even more now, I had tons of pictures in that accounts photo album that I stupidly didnt back up and save anywhere else...*sighs*

Losing My Boyz means I have lost the last people in my life that knew me good bad & ugly and loved me dearly anyway. They taught me so much. They stood by me thru so much. There is not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you my dearest Friends and miss you desperately. T, I remember when you sang the Lonestar song at karaoke the night before you moved and dedicated it to US - D, J, M, Mark, & Me - and the friendship we will always have, you winked at me and told me if I ever need you that all I had to do was close my eyes and there you would be....Mark, I remember sitting on the beach with J playing the guitar, my head on your leg, your hand running thru my hair as you sang softly and we all just watched the fire burn....I remember staying up for nights on end talking, arguing, laughing and doing some of the most retarded things imaginable. M, I still say you looked hot hot hot with kool-aid red dyed hair *smirks* ya never got me back for that by the way...and D, shampoo is still better!!! So stop looking at me swan!! *rolls with laughter* J, I remember when your son was born and the look of complete awe on your face when you saw him for the first time...I remember ...everything. Thank you for teaching me about life, about myself, and for giving me the courage and strength to recognize and accept who I am. You have all given me the most incredible gifts and I will love you dearly until I meet you in the dungeon after life party and kick your asses for leaving me. I promise to remain the dreamer and I promise to never lose sight of the stars.

Tomorrow I will release balloons for all of your souls to float safely on and I will release another one for Mark so he is able to find all of you. I find comfort in knowing that you will all be together still watching over me from afar. I will also release one balloon for me. I want to be with all of you. I will never forget any of you. I love you all so very much. Thank you for loving me.

Lonestar - Not A Day Goes By

I’ve Got a picture of you I carry in my heart

Close my eyes to see it when the world gets dark

Got a memory of you I carry in my soul

I wrap it close around me when the nights get cold

If you asked me how I'm doin' I'd say just fine

But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

I still wait for the phone in the middle of the night

Thinkin' you might call me if your dreams don't turn out right

And it still amazes me that I lie here in the dark

Wishin' you were next to me, your head against my heart

If you asked me how I'm doing I'd say just fine

But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

Minutes turn to hours, and the hours to days

Seems it's been forever that I've felt this way

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you

After all this time you're still with me it's true

Somehow you remain locked so deep inside

Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by

Second Day of Mourning

Second Day of Mourning

The second day of mourning is always grey,

When the grandeur of elaborate pain

Fades into a comprehensible dawn

The asthmatic morning labored to wheeze

a few competent breaths to last from bus to school.

A grim visage canopies a lurching heart that still stumbles

In the quicksilver and endless corridors of remembering.

Mourning seems such a vain thing.

It cries aloud to be seen, solicits pity with

Conscious tears and wanton dysphoria,

Damns an implosion with a paradoxical front.

Trudging up the overhead bridge that prevent dented fenders

And stubborn bloodstains on the roads,

The sweaty morning clings onto my skin and sorrow

Weighing with the symbolism of exertion.

Written by: Gaston Ng

Perfection Wasted

And another regrettable thing about death
is the ceasing of your own brand of magic,
which took a whole life to develop and market --
the quips, the witticisms, the slant
adjusted to a few, those loved ones nearest
the lip of the stage, their soft faces blanched
in the footlight glow, their laughter close to tears,
their tears confused with their diamond earrings,
their warm pooled breath in and out with your heartbeat,
their response and your performance twinned.
The jokes over the phone.
The memories packed in the rapid-access file.
The whole act.
Who will do it again? That's it: no one;
imitators and descendants aren't the same.

Written by: John Updike

I Measure Every Grief I Meet

I measure every grief I meet

With analytic eyes;

I wonder if it weighs like mine,

Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,

Or did it just begin?

I could not tell the date of mine,

It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,

And if they have to try,

And whether, could they choose between,

They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled--

Some thousands--on the cause

Of early hurt, if such a lapse

Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still

Through centuries above,

Enlightened to a larger pain

By contrast with the love.

Written by: Emily Dickinson

Time does not bring relief

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;

I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,

And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;

But last year's bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.

There are a hundred places where I fear

To go - so with his memory they brim.

And entering with relief some quiet place

Where never fell his foot or shone his face

I say, 'There is no memory of him here!'

And so stand stricken,

so remembering him.

Written by: Edna St Vincent Millay

Roberto

Thank you for the, "yes," your smile always gave me when we met.
Thank you for telling me it was the little things in life like my phone calls that kept you going. Thank you for listening to my sorrows and then giving me encouragement when I needed it. Thank you for seeing the pain behind my smile and giving me comfort.
Thank you for the admiration and respect you gave me.
Thank you for loving me for who I am, and not expecting more or less from me.
Thank you for the many hours you gave me sitting in your garden. Time is precious.
Thank you for your humor and how you kept me laughing.
Thank you for the grace and elegance you added to our every meeting.
Thank you for the high standards and integrity you demanded from yourself and those around you.
Thank you for seeing the best in me and not letting me forget it.
Thank you for the stubborn independence and self reliance that kept you strong and led the way for me.
Thank you for your love of beauty, both the inward and the outward, and how your sharp eye sharpened mine.
Thank you for believing in me and wanting me here, with you.
Thank you for loving me and telling me so.
Thank you for choosing me as friend, sister, family.

Written by: Christine McAuliffe

One would think after having been through this horrifying experience no less than 5 months previous, you would have some sort of mental preparation done to protect yourself. You would think that you wouldn’t hope they would return, knowing that hope and faith can be your bitterest enemies. You would think that the pain wouldn’t feel the same, that it wouldn’t cut in new places and rip your soul apart. You would think that you would be able to find your voice to give the grief its badly wanted need for expression. You would think that you wouldn’t be so numb, shocked, stunned, and ultimately silent.

I sat down today to try to give a voice to my pain. I sat down to attempt to try to get something out of me that I could start to analyze, and make sense of. I sat here and tried to write something eloquent, thoughtful, insightful, and all I could come up with was a blank word document to show for my hours of tears and trying

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want to run like a lunatic down the street screaming at the top of my lungs.

I want the world to know this kind of devastation.

I want the world to fear this kind of devastation.

I want to hear them all screaming with me as they too suffer this kind of living hell.

I want to be selfish and keep this grief all to myself.

I want to be angry at my friends for leaving me alone.

I want to be angry at the war for taking them from me.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want my friends here with me so my screams can turn to laughter.

I want to feel whole again.

I want to wallow in the darkness I am living in.

I want to dance in the light with my friends.

I want to be anywhere but here.

I want to be anyone but me.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop.

I want to be all these things because all I am is numb.

Written by Me.

I am raw. Angry. Lonely. Bewildered. Ashamed. Frightened. Miserable. Rejected. Proud. Useless. Enraged. Incapable. Defeated…I could go on and on…I am a complete contradiction. Once, I had friends who understood me, now I am left to understand myself and that thought terrifies me. Once, I had friends who knew my soul, now I am left to nurture myself without their loving guidance. Once, I had friends who were like brothers. They were closer to me than any sibling I have. They were my family. They were everything to me. There is not a memory of my life that I have that doesn’t include them in some way. I am scared to create a life without them in it. I cannot imagine my life without them in it. At this moment, I cannot imagine life.