Getting On With It *personal*

July 4: Alice/WonderlandImage via Wikipedia

Not unexpected, but I’ve had a rough few days here in Wonderland. I’ve dropped my basket, lost my funny, and have indulged in enough tears to bathe a herd of elephants, and what good does it do? I’m not familiar with the grieving process as it applies to losing a  Major Personage, as my momma was the only parent I had.  I don’t like this part. Nope, not digging it at all.

Still, one foot in front of the other. One tiny step at a time, and then, next thing I know, there will be lots of tiny steps behind me, and things will change. That’s my hope.


Baby Watch 2008 continues — no baby yet. Today is the due date of my first grandchild, and the Little Mama is looking ready to pop. (I forgot how huge a woman can get during pregnancy! Some memories are best left in the “I’m Never Doing That Again” bin. Heh.) Every time she moves, I’m jumping. It’s quite comical, really, and the Little Mama thinks it’s funny. MackDaddy and I are not so amused.  🙂


Next post will be Flash Friday, and I hope some of you catch the Flash Buzz and play along. Writing and music have always been my drugs of choice, so I’ll post a prompt and roll around in some words…take a trip to somewhere different, and I hope you’ll pack a lunch and come with me.

I’ve got dibs on the bologna sandwich, but I’ll trade you an apple for those chocolate chip cookies….


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*regroup* (personal)

Image via Wikipedia

*This is a cross-post from my personal blog. I plan on returning to regularly scheduled blogging at some point — but I don’t feel I can until I process some of this. Thanks for your patience.

According to the recent reading I’ve done, there are five stages of the grieving process:

• Denial
• Anger
• Bargaining
• Depression
• Acceptance

Another list I found detailed this:

• Numbness
• Disorganization
• Re-organization

I think I relate more to the second list than the first, although I’m not discounting any stage. That would be dangerous.

There is no set time frame, or order to either list. Any one of these things (and probably more that don’t appear on any neat list) can hit at any time. Everyone processes grief their own way and in their own time. In my own particular circumstance, I think the grief is further complicated by the imminent arrival of our most beloved Muffin. It is also common to grieve big changes in our life, to include the loss of a job, a change of environment or any one of a dozen situations.

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this is not an eulogy (personal)

The traditional Chinese character for love (?)...Image via Wikipedia

no matter how prepared you think you are for someone’s passing, you’re not. Momma and i talked about death extensively, through the years, not just when she received her cancer diagnosis. part of that was the nature of our chosen (early) careers — i became an LPN at 18; she went through the same program some 20 years later. the other part was just metaphysical conversation…i know at one point she didn’t feel like she could talk to anyone else without freakouts and tears, etc., so we would chat about death and what we thought and how we felt about it, and in some way, it pulled the fangs from death.

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not good-bye, but see you again

Jardín BotánicoImage by vaca_maldita via Flickr

If Death is Kind

Perhaps if death is kind, and there can be returning,
We will come back to earth some fragrant night,
And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending
Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.

We will come down at night to these resounding beaches
And the long gentle thunder of the sea,
Here for a single hour in the wide starlight
We shall be happy, for the dead are free.

~Sara Teasdale

i will miss her more than i can possibly express.

rest in peace, momma. i love you.

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A Work In Progress

Walk Way to the OceanImage by Bob AuBuchon via Flickr

As you can see, I’m farking around with my theme here, and I think I’ve got one I can live with. Although I have a predeliction for the dark, I’ve been told it’s hard on the eyes, so I’ve gone more traditional. Tell me what you think, and don’t blow smoke up my ass.

A huge shout-out to my fellow goddess, Lala, who baby-stepped me through the process via G-Chat (which I hate only a little less than the phone.)  I have a lot of tweaking to do until I’m satisfied, and it might take me a few days. I appreciate you being patient and bearing with me. The truth is, things are not going well for my momma and it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better, can you dig it. Tomorrow morning I’m heading up to my sister’s farm, to give her a break and visit with Momma. We don’t have much time.

I can’t really express how I feel right now. My mother is the only parent I have ever known, and as the eldest, we have a relationship that’s different from the other siblings. I’m not saying my pain is greater; it’s different. Her battle with breast cancer has been four years long — we all knew this day was coming. She’s determined to make it until my daughter has her baby, but the price, my friends, is way too high, IMO. Still, she will have what she wants, as long as the Universe allows. My daughter, known as “the GC” (GirlChild) in blogging circles, is due September 7th. In cancer terms, that’s a long way away.

Until then, if Momma can endure, so can I. It’s time for the Big Girl Pants, and all I can do is the best I can do. That’s all any of us can do.

So, if I’m a little spotty on blogging, tweaking or dropping, that’s the reason. Be assured I will return all drops, comments, link-love etc. as best I can until things settle. Until then, if you have some good vibes to spare, I’ll take all I can get.

And call your momma. Lord knows mothers can be a pain in the ass, but believe me when I tell you there’s no one like your mother. Call her and tell her you love her. Please.

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Shaking Out

theo, sleepingly slungImage by McBeth via Flickr

*Author’s note: Another cross-post.

well, that was my LYB’s idea, that we all hook up one last time.

Baby Sissy and my BIL had to head out tonight. the five of us have not been all together since christmas, and before that, it had been years. i know Momma really enjoyed seeing us yukking it up and zinging each other. we took turns, when she went in the house, sitting with her, because sometimes her legs don’t hold her up.


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Fight or Flight

Biting one's lip can be a physical manifestati...Image via Wikipedia

*Author’s note: This is a cross-post from my personal blog. I freewrite there, meaning no edits and no corrections. No capitals, either. Get over it. 😉

i’m pretty sure that’s what it’s called. that’s how i feel. like, at any moment a mutant squirrel with fangs and claws is going to fall from the tree and rip me to shreds.

have at it, i say.


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Endgame — a short update

Grim Gas TankImage by Cuppojoe via Flickr

Although I started WordWebbing for business, I will be cross-posting some of my personal blog here. Not tonight — I am about as beat as a person can get.

Death is such a touchy subject for many people, but my mother and I have a unique relationship. We’re weird, quirky, irreverent and we consider ourselves two of the funniest bitches on the planet. We’ve talked about Death extensively, and we are cool. We are cool.

She’s the strongest person I have ever known. EVER. My first grandbaby, her first great-grandbaby, is due to be born in 44 days, but she won’t make it to that. However, her goal was to make it to the shower this Sunday, and that, friends and neighbors, she will make. She has willed it so. After the shower, she’s going home.

I told her — you’ve put up quite the fight, old woman. You’ve about wore the Grim Reaper out. I bet he goes home at night, grumpy and frazzled. I can see him walking in the door, and from the look on his face, the wife knows he’s had a bad day.

“Hi, Honey. Bad day?” she says.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He growls.

“Oh. Audrey again, huh?”

“I said — I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. Gimme a beer.”

Heh. Momma found that hilarious.

Anyway. Very tired, and it’s not over yet. I will update soon — thanks to all for the good wishes and love pouring over us. I’m overwhelmed.


Because there needs to be more hugs.

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Hitting The Wall

Two Sisters by William-Adolphe BouguereauImage via Wikipedia

*Author’s note: Many of you are new readers to me, and I want to explain my spotty blogging habits which are not the norm. I have maintained a daily personal blog for over five years, and I am usually much better at keeping up and keeping on. However, I’m in the middle of a process that’s been ongoing for almost as long as I’ve been blogging, and when I started WordWebbing, it was intended as strictly business.

Still, I feel I have commitments that I need to honor, and for those who have been faithful here, I also feel I need to explain what’s been going on so you know I’m not slacking off, but trying to eat the Plate of Shit the Universe insists I eat. Therefore, I’m cross-posting an entry I wrote two days before I received a frantic call from my sister.

I’m having one of those emotional meltdown days, and I can only surmise it’s because I’m tired and I forgot to eat. Usually, even though I wear my heart on my sleeve, I have more control than that, but the stress of the last few weeks has finally caught up to me, I think.

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