Jen's Journal: January 2014

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Direction from Heaven

Make yourself familiar with the angels, and behold them frequently in spirit; for, without being seen, they are present with you. ~St Francis of Sales

In 1998 - I was in a very bad place in life. I had absolutely no self discipline. I had no will to live. I existed, on a dirty couch, in a dirty trailer, in the middle of nowhere. I was high 80% of the time. I was eating other people's food. I could not repay my debts. My aunt saw this in me, and she begged and pleaded with me to climb out of this ditch I'd thrown myself into. I still have her letter... the one where she practically sold the military idea to me. I tucked it safely away - and eventually followed her advice which led to numerous experiences and successes in my life.

Even though she's not with me... she continues to bless me with very obvious signs that she is ALL around me; my guardian angel. For example: http://jdurgeat.blogspot.com/2013/07/more-than-just-coincidence.html

Back in December, I'd gotten bored and decided to "google" myself to see where I existed in cyberspace. A few links popped up, one of them being my aunt's online guestbook associated with her obituary. I decided to pull it up and read through the entries to see if anyone new had written that I hadn't seen yet. There was an entry from an individual who grew up with my aunt... who knew my father, and her parents were friends with my grandparents. I immediately found comfort in the thought that stories of my family did not in fact go to the grave with my aunt! There is someone left in the world who can tell me about them. They can tell me new stories that I hadn't heard! I was excited... I called this individual, and we spoke for quite a bit of time. (keep this in your mind as I continue writing...)

Lately, I've been in such an emotional rut. When I decided to transition away from the military, I'd envisioned coming "home" to Texas and catching up with friends that I thought I had. I knew I had quite a bit of family around where we wanted to settle, and I thought they'd be more present than they are. Unfortunately, I couldn't be more wrong. 95% of my friends have lives that don't have room for me. My Texas family is not at all like I'd hoped. Yes, they're loving and accepting - but I want them PRESENT in my life, and it seems the only time I see them is when I go the extra mile to be with them. That's ok too... just not what I envisioned when I came home. I had such high hopes of buying a house right away and establishing my life... MY things... MY house... MY job... MY LIFE! But we've met everything with a roadblock. Couldn't get a mortgage without credit history (Nico's). I've had a really rough time getting a job because I've been overqualified for a lot.

My depression has seeped over into my personal life. It's affected everything. My sex drive drove away. My desire to do ANYTHING other than sit my butt on the couch had disappeared. I volunteered to help at places that ended up not needing me. I applied to work at places that chose other people. I wanted to be friends with people who didn't need my friendship.

Earlier this month, I applied for a job that I didn't know if I'd get or not. Remember 3 paragraphs ago when I mentioned I'd googled my name and found someone that I felt called to communicate with? Her husband happened to be the former president of the company I applied to work for. I got down on my knees (via email) and asked if there was anything he could do to help me in my quest for employment. Within 2 weeks, I was hired. This is more than coincidence.

Yesterday, when ALL hope was lost... I received a letter in the mail from the people who bought my aunt's house. It was the sweetest letter... a source of comfort in a time of despair. She was reaching out to me through them... through her home... it was amazing. There's no doubt in my mind that she's with me, all around me... giving me direction when I need it the most.

Friday, January 17, 2014

All That's Left...

Almost 4 days later, and I can still hear his collar jingle when I open the front door. I find myself staring blankly out at the spot where I found him lying on the front lawn... Is the grass flat? How long was he laying there? Was he there, alive, when I tried to call him in that night? Was he quiet and sick, in the dark... where I couldn't see him? Did he die suddenly, without suffering? Did he wish he was inside, curled up in my arms?

The morning that I drove him to the vet to be cremated... I kept telling myself that I SHOULD pull over into a parking lot and crawl into the back of the van and cry for a bit with him... stroke his silky black fur and say goodbye. I didn't let myself do it though... I don't know why grieving publicly is so hard for me. I do the same when I visit my father's grave. I rarely get out of the car. I just pull up beside him and turn off the engine and whisper into the wind, leaving before I have a chance to cry. (I regret not pulling into the parking lot with Zeus.)

Today, they called and said his ashes were ready to be picked up. I used to work at this clinic... I used to hand out the white bags with the wooden boxes filled with loved ones. I would cry if they cried. Today, I was on the receiving end of that white bag. I scurried into the van before I could cry and set him on the passenger seat. I buckled my seatbelt and began to drive away. I hit a bump in the road and I heard his collar jingle inside the bag. I lost all sanity. I waited for a bit, and then I let my hand search inside that white bag and I pulled out his collar. I shook it, over and over and over again. I let that familiar jingle fill the air because the silence was deafening. I cried fiercely. I'm still crying, like a lunatic. I got home and shared this small package with Stevie, and we hugged and cried together, again...

I let Athena sniff his collar. Her ears perked up when she heard the familiar jingle too. She started to look for him, but I held up his collar for her to smell and she laid her head back down on her paws.

I've got a friend who recently lost her kitty, too... She described it perfectly when she said that she felt like maybe it's better to not even have pets! However, another friend who lost her puppy described it perfectly too when she said "They are pure little souls with no hidden agenda or ulterior motive and they spent their entire lives just loving our families. It's just heartbreaking to lose that kind of love!"

I can tell myself that Zeus was "just a cat" to try and make it hurt less... but it's a huge lie. Zeus was my comfort before I had a husband. He was "the man" in my life who shared the other half of the bed... who cuddled with me and made me laugh. I miss him... I love him... and this pain - SUCKS!

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Be Still...

My aching heart... the tears that start without notice... Be still.

~Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.~ John Galsworthy.

Last night before bed, like I always do, I opened the front door and called for Zeus to come in. I didn't hear the jingle of his collar. I figured he'd wandered and was choosing to stay outside for the evening. I thought, it hasn't been so cold so why not? Even still, as I fell asleep last night, I thought about the what if's. What if he got hit by a car? What if he freezes overnight? Would I cremate him or simply pay to have him "disposed of." After all, if he's dead... it's just a body. I brushed away the thoughts and fell asleep.

This morning, I woke up and got the kids ready for school. I opened the front door and lying there on the front lawn was Zeus. I called his name and he didn't lift his head. I immediately knew. I scurried Ava to the car because I didn't want her to be sad. I looked back and noticed Stevie hadn't rounded the corner yet. I knew she'd figured it out. As she got in the car, I asked her to stay quiet, for Ava's sake. She and I cried quietly in the front seat. I texted Nico to let him know what we knew. I dropped the girls off and bawled my eyes out all the way home. Fortunately, Nico had him in a box when I arrived. I made the choice then to cremate him. I didn't want my boy in the dump.

Rewind about 10.5 years. I walked into a pet store, specifically in search of a black cat. They had one, a male... they said he was free, as long as I bought a bag of catfood for him. I took him, and hated him almost immediately! He was the Tasmanian devil in the car, all the way home. Once inside the house, he shredded into the couches with his claws, meowed and yowled, and I thought wow... you're really not going to last here!

The first night home, however... I took a shower and crawled into bed. He jumped up on the covers with me, and made his way up to the pillow. He batted at my face with his paws, blinked his eyes.. I told him "you better do something sweet if you plan to stay here long!" A few moments later, he nuzzled his nose into the back of my hair and proceeded to massage my head until he fell asleep. My love for him was sealed.