2010, right up there with 2007, ’08
I was looking forward to 2010 being a relatively sane, normal, non-traumatic year aside from the hormone-induced panic attacks. I am beginning to believe that some deity is out to get me and everyone I know… or at the very least a demi-god with a bad case of hemorrhoids.
The other night the husband and I were staying up late, gaming and then cooking some good food. We noticed all the lights were on over at my mother’s house and it being LATE we were concerned, so we went over to see if she was all right. It was very odd because even her front porch light was on and she only leaves that on long enough for someone to get into their car if she has visitors after dark. We went over. She was not in the living room or kitchen, she was not in bed, her car was at home. We went to the patio and saw across the field behind the house that all the lights were on in the barn at the farm of two good friends of the family. I saw an orange light, so I thought perhaps there was a small fire in the barn or something but that it was odd that all those lights were still going and there were cars, trucks and all manner of vehicles lined up and down the gravel alleyway in front of the barn and house. Confused, we decided to get in the car and see what was going on if we could.
On the way there we went past a truck belonging to the local garage and hauling company. Now that guy who drives that truck is a member of the volunteer fire department and a first responder, so we were worried that someone was hurt. Then we went up the road and passed a County Mountie but he was leaving like nothing was happening there. There were so many cars and trucks at the farm that we decided that was where my mother was and that with so many people there, we did not want to clutter the place up any more, so we drove on and thought that we’d stay out a bit and we’d learn about the fire or the animals getting loose or whatnot from Mom when we got home. Well, she was not home when we got back, so I left her a note asking her to call me and let me know that she was all right whenever she came home. Quarter past 3AM the phone rings, waking us from a sound sleep. I answered it. It is, of course, my mother calling. Yes, I am all right but Male Neighbor was found dead in the barn… and he had possibly been there for up to a day and a half.
Apparently, his wife had gone down a couple of hours away to see her son and he stayed at home because they had a herd of sheep to take care of. He didn’t show up to take his mother to breakfast Saturday and he wasn’t in the house when FN got home. Almost nothing in the house had been touched but the boots he wore out to the barn to do his chores were missing, so his wife called her son to come up and look in the barn because she was afraid of finding him dead out there. They found him. One of my mother’s other friends is married to the fire chief in town, so they always have the scanner on and she heard about what had happened that way, so she called mother and then collected her so they could be there to support FN.
That is just horrible. Dreadful. I feel really bad for her. I just. Damn.
So the viewing is tomorrow and, thanks to my whacked out hormones, I’m sitting here recording this and trying not to have a panic attack because I’m relatively sure that the viewing is going to be at the same funeral home Dad’s was and the thought of attending another viewing is playing havoc with my nerves. The fact that it is playing with my nerves is making me mad because I’ve never been that fucking delicate and it pisses me off that apparently I have “triggers” now and I feel it makes me weak. And being made to feel weak makes me livid. And, selfishly, I am tired of mourning. I am so tired of death and crying and generally feeling miserable. Logically I know that life is death, but I am very tired of having to to through this over and over again when my own wounds are still raw.
cats, 
