Flaming June's Love

I spoke to an old old old friend today. One of those people that know you from day one. The person you cant absolutely cant bullshit. She knows when you were at your worst and was there, and when you were at your best - and was there too. Whether she was with me physically or spiritually emotionally whatever the defining words are... She was there. As we chatted I was reminded of times way back in the cracks and crevices of grey matter. Weekends spent at her house. Friday after school we , the three of us, the wild the willing and the innocent, would trek to her house and camp literally camp in her room for three days. I know we listened to Heart, loverboy and rick springfield for the one we called the willing. I didnt have many likes at the time, or dislikes, I really had no independent thought at all. I was the sheltered youngest of four that couldnt order a sandwich at the deli for fear of fucking up. I dont remember what we talked about, I know we smoked cigarettes played ...

I am waiting for answers to questions without words. The questions are feelings and pain that have no end. I pray that when my time comes and if there is a heaven my father will have forgotten my shortcomings. I hope he remembers me as a good loving daughter that cried for him everyday since he left us. I hope my children's beauty and passion for life reflects on my life as being successful. Wherever he is let him be happy, content, resting,. Please dont let him miss us, that is a thought that haunts me. His blue eyes blinking back tears at the end of his life. I want to be there again to touch him and comfort him and hold him. I want to see him and tell I am so sorry for the end of his life being so soon. I am sorry, hot tears that take my breath away and change my heartbeat, make me bite my tongue and make it bleed.

I love the way they all look. Peaceful, resting, comfortable. I know that. I am here looking at the boy chewing on a block, Missi watching a cartoon, Allie listening to her ipod and my guy in th bathroom.! My life is good.

Still in a "mood" I hope to pull out of it soon.

I am ready for spring. I want my flowers to poke on through to life above ground. I so anticipate the flowers I planted after my Fathers death to spring to life. Symbolism for me to believe that life goes on. I have some bitterness towards the establishment, I need to blame someone for Pops death. I am analytical as that. Answers to how and why are toruring me at night. How did I miss this? How could I let him go? Where did it all go wrong? Mom and I went and pu the request in for Pops medical records for the time in the hospital til his death. I so want to sit and read through the whole thing. In my anticipatory state I hope to find a Dr signature that says "I F'ed up today and now this wonderful man is going to die and it is NOT HIS DAUGHTERS FAULT FOR NOT PAYING ATTENTION AND FOR NOT TAKING THIS SURGERY SERIOUSLY ENOUGH>" I dont think that will happen. I promised my dad that I would not let anything happen tohim, I did. He is now dust in a box in my Moms bed...