For Susan

Up to heaven,
With angels wings,
I can hear you sing,
The joy, love, and pain your precious life brings.
Forever remembered,
Forever loved,
I know you're watching from above.
In my mind,
In my heart,
I know we'll never be apart.
Up to heaven,
With angels wings,
I will forever hear you sing.

I'd love to know why motivation comes only after a horrible event. I haven't wrote a poem since I was a teenager. Why now? Why only after a wonderful person has a tragic event occur in their lives does it rear it's ugly head?

My heart aches, but I know that Katie Jane is welcoming her little brother, Matthew Finley, with open arms. She will love and protect him.

Dearest Susan. I don't want to sound like a creeper, but you really do hold a special place in my heart. I know we don't know a lot about each other, or talk a whole lot. You are an amazing, strong woman. I will forever admire you for that. Following you through your struggles has made me realize that I am blessed. Blessed to have my boys. I will not take forgranted that I have them in my life. I hope, somehow, I can bring a little peace into your life. You were dealt a shitty hand and it's just not fair. Even though little Katie Jane and Matthew were here far too short a time, they are loved. They know you (and all of botb) love them dearly and they are lucky to have such an amazing woman for their mother.

Just know you're in my thoughts. I can't say I understand what you're going through, because that would be a lie. Yes, I've miscarried, but that doesn't mean I understand what it's like to lose a child.

You'll forever hold a special place in my heart, and I am lucky to 'know' such an amazing person.

Xoxo,
Lindsey

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A story...

Sometimes, dreams can be creepy. Especially the ones that come true. For months before my dad passed, I had dreams about him passing. I will now tell you about this such thing.

They were short dreams, just of how he had died and where it happened. He would be sitting in a friends front lawn, drinking, having a good time. Then he'd passout and never wake up. These dream always creeped me out, but not as much as they did when my mom came over on the fateful morning of October 3rd, 1998.

I knew there was something wrong, at the time, I wasn't living at home. I was living with some friends of the family. I thought, at the time, that was a better place for me. Boy was I wrong. That's a whole nother post though. Early that morning, mom came over, she was upset. She talked to the woman first, then she came in and talked to me. She told me that my great aunt Fay called her, and told her my dad had died. I remember feeling a bit shocked. I cried a couple tears, but nothing as much as you think you would when one of your parents dies. I don't believe I have ever really grieved for the loss of my dad. We didn't have much of a relationship. He lived in Florida, I lived in Nevada and we honestly didn't talk a whole lot. He was too involved in his own life to be responsible, and take care of his kids.

The night before he died, he was partying with some friends, from what I know he was drinking, have a good old time, that good old dad, the alcoholic, always had. It got late and he was already asleep in a lawn chair in his friends front yard. They left him there to sleep. Well, his friends woke up the next morning and thought he was still asleep. No one would have thought he was dead, until finally someone went outside to wake him up. Turns out, he died in his sleep. I can imagine it would have been a peaceful way to go. I know that he's in a better place, that he's happy. That he doesn't suffer from his gout anymore. He's not in and out of the hospital.

Life goes on, I realize that dying is part of nature. It happens to everyone. It was just a really crappy time to make his appointment with the grim reaper. I was almost 15 years old when he died. I am almost 27 now. I do miss him, but I am glad I don't have to watch him slowly killing himself. I, without a doubt know, that if my dad was still alive he'd still be an alcoholic. It consumed his every being. Nothing else mattered at that time to him. I hope you're resting in piece dad, and that you're enjoying your time, whereever you are.

Today, we leave!

We're going up to East Lake for 5 nights. I so cannot wait to leave, be in the wilderness with nothing but our tent and boat. It's such a relaxing place. It's so quiet. East Lake has a speed limit on the water, its like 10-15mph, so we don't get all the loud speed boats and crazies. No seadoos, jetskis or skiers.

I can't wait to go fishing, I love fishing. Hopefully I can catch a big giant fish. I plan to take a shitton of pictures while we are up there. woohoo. we leave this afternoon and won't be home until sometime on monday. So, my dearest blog. I bid you goodbye for 5 whole days.

So yeah...

I realize, I suck at blogging. I have so many good ideas, but I can't seem to write them out. I am too critical of myself. I hate that I am that way, but I don't know how to stop. I can write out this long post, decide that it sucks, and the whole thing gets thrown out the window, flushed down the toilet kinda stuff. Another reason is because it doesn't really feel like anyone reads this blog, like it's a meaningless waste of my time. I have 2 followers, one of which I have no clue who they are. Hey, it's someone that is potentially reading my blog though, right?

We are going camping for 5 nights. I am super excited. We haven't been camping all summer. Now that it's finally fall, here we go. Kind of backwards don't you think?

Yippee, East Lake, here we come. Better watch out!!!

Sigh

Let me preface by saying that I am writing this post from my phone. It is almost 1am, sitting here in bed because measley natured decided to call upon me, and I simply cannot go back to sleep. Any lack of proper punctuation is blamed on my phone, as I can't, for the life of me figure out how to make a damned paragraph lol.
Well, I lied, I can. I just can't figure out how to make the little arrow doohickeys needed to put a break in the text for a paragraph. Anywho, Caleb has the stomach flu. Poor lil bugger, I hate seeing him throw up. After dinner tonight, not even 10 minutes after he'd ate, the lovely vomit-fall (you know, instead of waterfall) ensued. So now he's restricted to bananas, applesauce, and toast until his little tummer tums can handle something a little heavier. I feel so horrible for him, he's only 14 months old and doesn't really understand why this shit keeps coming out at both ends. Literally. So, now I am either going to try and go back to sleep or attempt to dive into Voyager. goodnight blogger. I might log on from my laptop in the morning and put paragraphs into this post.

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