90. I Bet You Hate Minutiae Too
Honestly, the chit-chatty crap is driving me insane. I don’t want to hear about grocery lists, funeral outfits, sidewalk upgrades, tree removals, discontinued shampoo scents, DMV snafus, stores with expired foods, stores with empty aisles, too much rain, not enough rain. My list could go on and on, but I’d just be adding to the things I find irritating.
I find myself irritating.
89. A Special Birthday
And before I could turn off the tube, the words Oral Sex were uttered. Without missing a beat my six-year-old Jessica said, ‘What’s oral sex?’ I pushed her bowl of Cocoa Puffs toward her and replied, ‘That’s when people talk about it, here, eat.’”
88. Housekeeping
Personally I think one medical student or intern should be allowed in each patient’s room. A selection system for the caravan of whitecoats should be devised by Doctor Showoff. The system could be done alphabetically, or by height, or here’s a thought, an auction caller could be hired, “Patient A - radiation burns - right breast. I’ll open the bid at $35.00, do I hear $40?”
87. When You’re Right, You’re Right
“Come in. Don’t touch me. Say Happy Father’s Day.
Say Happy Anniversary. Eat your food. Then get out.”
There was a swear thrown in. I’ll let you decide which one and you can put it wherever you want.
Such Fun!
86. A Simple Request
I will say this, letters shouldn’t only be for those who have lost fathers, or been separated from their childhood homes. They shouldn’t only be for loved ones across miles of ocean, or for those generations long since past. Letters should be something we do for others and for ourselves.
85. There Was an Old Lady
There was an old lady whose labs were high, they didn’t know why, but her labs were high, she might die.
84. Kaleidoscope Dreams
If I’d only known that was the last time I would have seen the Atlantic from my patio then I would have gone down to the shoreline and collected my own sand and ocean water. If I’d only known that was the last time I would have seen my whole family at a beach reunion then I would have taken picture after picture of us all. If I’d only known that was the last time I would have breathed in salty sea air I would have filled my lungs until they burst. And if I’d only known that was the last time I would have seen the sun rise and set over multi-blue ocean waters, and the moon’s trail of light on ink-colored waves then I would have stayed awake for that whole day.
‘If I’d onlys’ should be for the people readying to leave this life.
They should not be for you — so don’t let them be.
83. Close and Yet So Far
“Hello Blog, and anyone who chooses to read it, my name is Sheryll O’Brien and I am going to tell you everything there is to know about my life and my death.” This is sooooo antithetical to who I am. But, this is who I am at this very moment in my life — a dying woman trying to handle this crap the only way I can. I know I’m making mistakes along the way and I’m okay with that unless I find that I’ve caused unnecessary pain and confusion for the ones I love.
82. Pretty in Pink
Hadley played outside with the balloon and when she came in she declared, “Gee is doing really good, MammyGrams!”
“There’s more,” he chimed in. He took hold of her unribboned hand and led her to the kitchen. He let her make the discoveries.
“Pink jello. Pink cake mix. Pink sprinkles. White frosting?” Her disappointment was very evident.
“That’s all they had.”
“No problem, Gee, we’ll just add red food coloring.”
81. A Bunch of Loose Threads
A week or so after retrieving the stone, Father Dude contacted me. He was at the Old Stone Church at the Wachusett Reservoir, a favorite place of mine; my requested body of water. He walked to the shoreline and tossed my stone in. He sent pictures of the beautiful waterway beneath a bright sunny winter’s sky, one that showed a circular ripple that might have been made by my stone. I felt unburdened and blessed at that very minute to have participated in such a lovely, spiritual ceremony. The memory of it still touches me deeply.
79. Memorial Day Cook-ins and Manicures
Tim and Sheryll. Donna and Clark. The couples may have made vows to love and honor one another, but when it came to pitch — vows meant absolutely nothing. Donna and Tim partnered up to play the game, Sheryll and Clark partnered up to annihilate their opponents.
78. A Perfectly Painful Weekend — Part 2
The love of my life righted me, pulled me close, and whispered in my ear, “Do you always have to cause a scene?”
Apparently so. Jackass.
77. A Perfectly Painful Weekend
These two medically trained individuals know there are big-ass problems if I get a big-ass boo-boo on my big-ass. Luckily, for the past 204 days, the only things that have caused me any pain in my posterior are Nurse M and the She Devil.
76. A Detour of Despair
I lowered my recliner, grabbed all of the soaked-through tissues from my lap, stuffed them into the pocket of my nightgown, grabbed my walker and went to the fucking bathroom.
BY MYSELF.
75. The Impossible Dream
Every night the Sneade family from the land of: ‘What The Fuck Is Wrong With You People, United States of America’ disassembled a traveling freak-vehicle and turned it into a, “Shut your traps and go to sleep-vehicle.”
74. A Dream of Michael
He was sitting at a bar having a brown soda over tons of ice, an empty pretzel bowl was nearby. He was listening to Jagger’s Sweet Thing on the jukebox and drumming his fingertips on the cover of The Prophet.
73. His Walk Down Memory Lane
He started laughing — the kind where he might have passed out from lack of oxygen. I started laughing too, although I had no idea why.
He gathered himself enough to say, “You built a damned swingset in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, well, someone had to build it. We had it for weeks and the kids were tired of waiting for you to fit it into your schedule.”
“So you built it in the kitchen.”
“Just part of it. I thought we’d be able to move it out through the slider.”
“Thought wrong. I had to take the thing apart.”
“Okay, the plan had its faults.”
72. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.
The whole self-imposed constraint of ‘don’t complain about anything’ has become a silent mantra and a bit of a cross to bear. Whenever I have something to bitch about, I clamp my mouth shut out of fear I will be heard — judged — and accused of smiting this bonus time I’ve been given. In other words — in honest words — I’m afraid I’ll be marked for quick removal from my Earthly home just for the offense of bitching.
71. Mother’s Day
“Morning,” Mr. Wonderful said with a kiss to the top of my head. “Happy Mother’s Day — you made it.” His wonderful sentence came with another kiss and a big-ass smile.