Good week/bad week

It is Thanksgiving week. How it got to be late November already, I have no idea. I really love the holidays, so I do enjoy Thanksgiving week. Really, it is a short week. Wednesday is the day before, with preparing for the next day. Thanksgiving day is nice, and that night I start getting out my Christmas stuff. Up until last year, the day after was not only a crazy work day, but the start of a month of crazy days to come. And six day work weeks. Yuck. Last year I wasn't working, but I did not partake in Black Friday shopping. This year I may do a little. Some how, Chet got this weekend, and Monday off. Saturday night we hope to go to our Zoolights with Sophie. We have never done that before. My sister will be here from Wednesday until Monday, and I am really looking forward to that.

The bad part? Thanksgiving of 1986. That was my first year working, and the day before Thanksgiving was very rainy. In the morning I took my sister Cathy to work on my way to school. I was at a community college, and she was home on break from a state college. That night I got called into work. There wasn't enough gas in the car, so I had to stop in the pouring rain at my dads office to get gas. I don't remember if he gave me money, or if I filled up there, because they had their own pumps for their installers trucks. I just remember driving the family station wagon in the pouring rain. That night I was in bed when my sisters Cathy and Gina got home from a movie. My sister Cathy peeked her head into my room and asked if I wanted to go to a family brunch in the morning at her work. I said maybe, I think. Then she went back out with her boyfriend. Hours later I woke up to hear my mom on the phone. I got up, and my mom was going to Cathy's room because her boyfriends sister called and asked if Cathy was home. She wasn't. My parents thought she was asleep in bed. My mom had misunderstood. Cathy and her boyfriend had been in a car accident. John was at one hospital, and they had taken Cathy to another one, just about a mile down the hill from our house. MY mom called the hospital and was told she was in surgery, and nothing else. Then two policemen showed up at the door. as it turned out, the accident was four blocks down the street. Straight down our street. MY parents headed to the hospital and insisted we stay. I will never know why I didn't go. There was another car in the driveway. But they had said to stay. So I was there with my two other sisters, ages 17 and 13. We were praying the whole time. I was sure she would be fine. I mean, it was Thanksgiving, about 3 in the morning, maybe. Certainly God wouldn't let anything bad happen, on Thanksgiving no less. Then my parents came back. And, our parish priest. Not a good sign. Cathy had died. They operated on her, but could not save her. Cathy was ten months and two days younger than me. She was always in my life. Needless to say, life was never the same again.

Cathy died on Thanksgiving, November 27th, 1986. So, really there are two anniversaries of her death. Thanksgiving, and the 27th. Last year Thanksgiving fell on the 27th, but this year the 27th is Friday. Thanksgiving is a little weird in my family. For years it was just Chet, I and my parents. Two years ago Sophie joined us. This year one of my sisters will be here for the first time in 10 years. Four years after Cathy died, my Grandma died on Thanksgiving. And 20 years after she died, Sophie was conceived on Thanksgiving. TMI maybe, but noteworthy. It is just a strange day. Also this year, not only is the 27th the 23rd anniversary of Cathy's death, but the one month anniversary of our dog Simon's death. Cathy was an old soul from day one. And so was Simon. I am sure they have found each other in Heaven.

Simon's home

In a box. It is a very nice box, with his name embossed on the outside. Chet went to pick up his ashes on Friday. There was no way I could go. I can't even stand to drive by the vet, which is on the main road through town. Right now the box is on the top of the shelf in our living room. Normally that room isn't used very much, and everything is in it's place. But I started going through the hundreds of pictures and cards in the drawer last week, and they are all over the place. Chet wanted to put the box on the mantle, but it is not very wide, so I was afraid it would fall down. So it is in it's bag, on the top of the shelf, between two vases. We are planning on spreading his ashes at his favorite doggy park in the spring. We used to go there all the time when we lived nearby. We still took the dogs there up until my parents moved out of the area three years ago. Simon loved to swim there, and we used to go to pug parties there. Simon didn't really play well with others though. He had major Daddyitis his whole life, he loved mommy, grandma, grandpa, and his aunties. He loved Toby, but not until after he took a permanent bite out of his ear the first day they met. He loved Sophie too, even though he wanted nothing to do with mommy for two days after we brought Sophie home. But he would lay outside of her bedroom door during her naps, and he liked to come with me in the mornings to get her up. And Sophie loved him. I think she gets that he is not coming back, but I am not positive. We have been blowing kisses to him up in heaven. I'm surprised we don't hear him barking down here. Sometimes, I would swear I do:-)

I think I could write whatever I want...

Since I don't seem to have any readers. Hello, is anyone out there? I know I am the worst blogger EVER. A. I don't have a lot of time. There are a lot of other things I can do online intermittently, like Facebook, even email. But the only time I have to blog is after 8pm, and I am usually exhausted. B. I have so many things running around in my head, it is hard to focus on just one. C. No one is reading anyway. I know that doesn't really matter, but I do find that motivating.

Fat. I started Weight Watchers on 10/20. It had gotten to the point that it was between that and surgery, and I really don't want surgery. Plus, Chet is very against it. I know I can lose on my own, but I need something structured like this. I am doing it online, which I love. It involves counting and budgeting, two of my strengths. It does not require me to be weighed in public and listen to others tell me what I should do. Two of my least favorite things. I know meetings help a lot of people, but I know my quirky self, and this is the way to go. I will probably attend one meeting to check it out. Week one, I lost 7 pounds, and week two, I lost 6. Woo hoo! Better than I imagined. I know the big number from week two had to do with losing Simon. I am really hoping for at least a three pound loss this week, but I am not real hopeful. I have been working out more, and I have these big calf muscles that lay dormant, and with a little bit of work they pop out. That's what years of soccer and then working on my feet have given me. Those are the only muscles I have, trust me.

Simon. We are missing him so much, of course. I have stayed home this week, to decompress and because I haven't felt too well. It has been nice, and allowed me to work on some projects. One is my "photo/card" drawer. Right now I have piles of pictures and cards sitting on my coffee table. There is a pug pile of course, which sadly is way higher than the Sophie pile, or any other for that matter. Mainly because for most of our pug parent years we had a non digital camera, and actually had pictures printed. Most of the Sophie pics are on the computer. SO Sophie and I have been looking at lots of Simon picss, many with Toby too. Sophie and Toby still think he is coming back. It's so sad. We love you pookie bear!!

Job. Haven't even looked for a couple weeks. I can only handle so many changes at once, and going back to work will be a huge one. Dealing with WW and the loss of Simon are enough right now. Plus, I have so many great holiday celebrating ideas floating in my head:). Of course, I will start freaking while spending money on Christmas. I cannot turn off my inner worrywart.

Sex. Ha ha, just checking to see if anyone is reading. Scared you, didn't I?