Monday, August 19, 2019

This Isn't Goodbye


Subtitle Option: Opinions Are Like Buttholes


You might be curious about the optional subtitle, but you'll have to keep reading in order to find out why. 😉

Fair warning, incoming personal life stuff. Ew. If you've read my previous blog posts (HERE if not), or follow me on social media, you know I'm a diehard introvert. Sharing in depth details about my personal life honestly doesn't occur to me most of the time unless I feel like it pertains to a conversation with someone in the moment. When I have to explain things umpteen times, I feel like my energy reserves are being drained beyond belief. So let me apologize ahead of time if you're someone I should've filled in by now. It's not intentional, it's nothing personal, I've just had my hands full with a (more than) full time job and half my family leaving. I told Wes I was going to take care of it in one fell swoop with a blog post. So, here goes...

In March of this year, Walmart went through another round of their famous layoffs at the Home Office. They are sneakier with it these days to avoid media backlash, so they just go a department at a time now instead of hitting everyone at once. Am I a little frustrated with them? YES. I'm human. But we aren't going to bash Walmart. They provided us with a great life for nearly 12 years. Period. That's the end of my thoughts on that. Keep in mind, opinions are like buttholes...

Long story short, Wes was laid off. His department was hit, and he was one of the people impacted this time. He's avoided so many of the cutbacks over the last decade, and this was just his—and several others—time.  I'm very thankful we have a paid off house, and my own business was capable of sustaining us while he looked for a job. 

After some misleadings, a million applications, and lots of interviews, he landed a new job a few weeks ago at Century Link. He was hired to be the Director of Talent Development North American Operations. Yay, right? Well, the job is in Louisiana. Always a catch, isn't there? The problem with that is our youngest just started her junior year in high school. She's in a special program through her school where she goes to the local culinary college every day for classes before being sent back to her high school for core classes. If we move her, she loses that program, and it's a great opportunity for her. Not only that, but it's less than ideal to move a child midway through high school if you can help it.

Part of being a parent is sacrificing for your children. Sometimes what is best for them is hardest for us, but it's part of our job to set them up for the future in the best way we can. Obviously, the children have to contribute to their own success, but we can provide the opportunities and pray they take full advantage. So that's what we're doing.

We have a game plan. Wes's new job is about 6 hours from here. Caleb goes to school about 3 hrs from here—the halfway point. We're planning to meet one weekend each month in Conway. The bonus is we shouldn't have to go more than a month without seeing Caleb. Wes hopes to eventually be established enough in his job to come home once a month to work for a few days. Katlyn and I will go down there if we have a chance with days off from school now and again, but we can't be gone too long at a time since we have 3 cats—2 of which are crazy kittens. (How on Earth did I end up with 3 cats? Oh yeah...*cough*...Wes...)

Now for some clarification...


Wes was in the Air Force for 7 years. This is not the first time we've been apart. Wes came to Arkansas before we did so he could begin his job at Walmart and I stayed in Texas to sell our house. This isn't our first rodeo. Does it suck? Oh yeah, it does. Do we like it? No, we don't. 

Is it the right thing? Yes, it is.



Of course we've asked ourselves a hundred plus times if this is the right thing to do. We have our pros and cons list, we've discussed it at length, and we came to a decision based on what was best for our daughter. Because that's what parents do. I don't think I need to explain we don't love it, but we'll make the most of it. We have more reasons than just our daughter, but this is enough to clarify our decision, and I'm tired now, so...🤣🤣🤣

*bats eyelashes* 
The weekend the boys left was not the highlight of our less-than-stellar year. We drove to Conway to move Caleb back into the dorm Saturday, drove back and got things ready for Wes to leave, then he left Sunday. Losing both of my boys within 24 hrs left me with an extremely empty house...and a hormonal 16 yr old girl. *whispers* Send help.

This isn't goodbye. 


We've done this. We are veterans to long distance living. Heck, we spent the first three years of our relationship living in two different states. We seem to cycle back to the long distance thing periodically in our marriage, so we can hack two years of this again because it's what we need to do right now. If we absolutely hate it, and it gets too hard, we'll figure it out then. No one is forcing this on us. He's more than capable of living in an apartment and doing his own laundry while navigating a new career in a new place.  I'm more than capable of taking care of our house and mowing the grass and handling whatever comes up with single parenting. (And screw me if it's not always something.) We're all "growed up", and this is adulting. We aren't saying goodbye at all. This is just a see ya later and an extended business trip, you might say.

Now about that subtitle...


As people are wont to do, we've had a myriad of opinions about this situation. Most people are supportive and understand why we're going this route, but we've had those select few who want to crap all over it and doom our marriage and future with their naysaying. We don't want to hear that negativity. This is challenging enough. Remember that thing your mom used to say about, If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all? That's the case here for us. We have this. Neither of us have it harder than the other one. We both have our individual difficulties, and neither of us have it better or easier. But this isn't an impossible situation, and both of us are up for the task.

Questions are totally fine...awesome...fantastic...happy to answer. It's only negativity that's not welcome. It's as easy as that. 


Ugh, yuck, feelings...


Yes, I'm sad—we're sad. My house feels incredibly empty. Knowing he isn't just gone for the day or a business trip is sad. Caleb being gone is sad. They are my best friends. BUT...all of that sad is just a temporary thing in an adjustment phase. Katlyn and I will figure out our new normal—whatever that is—and I'll work on parenting and prepping her for life in the remaining two years she has in high school. I need to teach her to drive. *whispers* Send more help. She's 16 now, so we started Day 1 of our new "normal" with me introducing her to a FRIENDS marathon and playing Minecraft. Now she'll understand all the jokes and references we've made her entire life. 

Now for the subtitle...I leave you with my personal bit of wisdom. You ready for this super eloquent bit o' awesome?

Negative opinions are like buttholes. We all have one, none of them are pretty,
and no one really wants to see them.




Please don't feel offended if you're someone I should've called and I haven't shared more about all of this "lifey" stuff with you already. Wes is MUCH better at sharing than I am. I am a better listener than sharer. Just ask Ella...she teases me constantly about not sharing enough. You win, Ella...see, I'm sharing! 


Tuesday, April 9, 2019

How Do I Say Goodbye...


I had to put her bed on my desk so she would let me work.
We didn't tell very many people she was sick.  We wanted her last days to be filled with love and as much happiness as we could give her. We knew there would be time to grieve, and we didn't want to spend our remaining moments thinking of what was to come.

January 31, 2019
The diagnosis of lymphoma and kidney failure was not something I was prepared for as she sat trembling in my arms in the noisy vet’s office with the strange smells and sounds she hated so much.  I think I was in shock at first, asking questions mechanically, listening to the vet apologetically explain to me it was the beginning of the end. I choked back tears and held as tightly to them as I could because I knew if I loosened my grip even a little, I wouldn’t be capable of stopping them. It was my job to cope with it the best way I could, to be strong for her. And when the vet informed me it would be up to me to decide when it was time to let her go, I knew the burden was even heavier. How can I make that decision? How can I decide when she no longer wants to be here? How can I pick up the phone and make the call asking for the appointment where she wouldn’t come home with me again? How would I place her in the carrier knowing it would come home empty?


My favorite coworker
And so I brought Annie home with medications and decided to love her as much as possible for however long we had left together. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. We began the undetermined amount of time with an ache in our hearts. The vet said it could be a couple of weeks or a couple of months. Every day that went by, I tried to tell myself we'd turn those weeks into months...maybe the months into a year.

After her diagnosis, Wes said he didn't know how to describe the feeling.

I do. It felt like a piece of my heart splintering ever so slowly. The more it went on, the more it pulled away, leaving a jagged edge. The only way I knew to cope was to wrap it tightly so when it finished splintering, I could it hold carefully and keep it from poking holes in the rest of my heart. Because I lost a piece of myself, and I know I can't get it back, so I have to learn to live without it until the memories bring more smiles than tears.

Hope has a place until it's no longer viable...and so we made the most of our time until hope ran short and reality crept in.


I always loved this photo of Annie. She frequently laid like this.
April 8, 2019 
How can I decide when she wants to say goodbye?

I didn't realize she'd show us, but she did. It wasn't as hard to figure it out as I thought it would be. I knew last night, watching her, petting her, feeling the piece of my heart pull away just a little more...I knew it was time.

So I spent the day with her like we did most days. She napped in the shifting patches of sun, then curled up in my lap, purring when I rubbed her ears. I cried intermittently. As much as I hate to cry, I didn't hold back this time. I couldn't.

April 9, 2019
How can I say goodbye to my constant companion of nearly 15 years...my best friend?

Such a pretty girl.
There is no easy answer to that question because I'm not still not sure how to say goodbye...even though she's gone.

I held her while she slipped into a sleep from which she'd never wake. It happened so quickly—too quickly.

The dangling piece of my heart finally broke away. I finished wrapping it tightly, and I left it with my sweet Annie Sue.

Annie warming her paws.
Right now I'd give anything for her to stand on my keyboard and send random texts or sit next to me and meow—demand—until I move the computer to make room for her. I'd give anything for her to wake me up at 3:00 in the morning, meowing at the back door for no discernible reason. I miss her perching on my chest and bathing me until I wake up and rub her ears. I miss her trotting down the hall to follow me to the bathroom. I miss the way she'd sit in front of the fireplace and warm her face, stretching her paws and gently kneading the metal curtain.

Her favorite spot while I worked.
I still look for her to follow me every time I leave the room. I keep wishing she would come around the corner, talking to me and demanding I sit so she can curl up in my lap.

As a diehard introvert, I’m so particular about the humans I spend time with, and that sweet little girl was my best friend, my constant companion, my coworker during long hours working from home...my partner in crime. She wasn't my pet, I was her human. She loved me even when I felt entirely unlovable.


Someday, the smiles will come before the tears, the memories will be sweet instead of leaving the emptiness in my heart and highlighting the cold spot in my lap and next to me while I sleep. Right now they are so very sharp and leave me aching and constantly swallowing the knot of pain that lives in my chest and tries to work its way into my throat.

How do I say goodbye? I haven't quite figured that out yet.

I miss you, Annie. I'm lost without you, I love you, and you took a piece of my heart with you. Thank you for loving me more than I deserved.


Always stealing my chair.

Your chair is mine, lady.



About two minutes before she climbed the Christmas tree...again.



Don't let her fool you, this was always intentional. 







Sunbathing while I got ready.

Working on our last morning together.

Thank you for loving me, Annie.


Annie Sue Chicka Chicka Mow Mow
May 18, 2004 - April 9, 2019