Him: It's Monday and I'm trying not to give in to the horses of despair.
Me: Are those like the Four Horses of the Apocalypse?
completely blank stare
Him: What on earth are you talking about? I said forces of despair. Forces.
Me: Oh.

God. I used to be smarter than this. I swear.

I know it's been a while since my last letter. I've been thinking for a few weeks what I would say to you. I'm not sure that I've come to any conclusions or that what I'll end up writing here will make any sense. But Robb and Angie both seem to think it's important that I write this and I trust them to be able to clearly see what I need when I cannot.

I don't want to blame you for the accident, but I need somewhere to lay the blame and I can't think of anyone else. Seems a cheap shot, I know, blaming the dead guy. Sorry, dude. That's just the way it is. There is a part of me that feels you were irresponsible to get in your car that night. That you didn't properly understand the risk you were taking. That it didn't occur to you that it was more than your own life hanging in the balance. As a son, brother, husband and father, I think it was a shitty thing to do to the people you love. And yes, I realize that many people fall asleep at the wheel and never understand how tired they are because it's just a few seconds and there are no consequences. But that's just an excuse and right now, I have no room for them.

I am so angry, I positively vibrate with it. I wash dishes, clean floors and scrub tubs with it. I think I've been angry since May and haven't wanted to acknowledge it for fear that it meant I was angry with you, which would somehow make me a bad person. I'd like to say that I cannot allow that anger to be buried any longer. Truth be told, I don't feel like I have a choice. The anger isn't staying put. It's on the move and coming out whether I like or not.

I'm angry about losing a summer feeling lost and alone. Or feeling numb or so wounded and raw that I could scream or cry for days on end. I am tired all the time and half want to waste the last days of this dreadful summer sleeping because at least I'd be oblivious to the pain inside me. This makes me pissed, because I'm still alive and have much to be thankful for and I should want to get up every morning and face a new day. But I don't. I hate the fact that I feel guilty for how I feel. I'm angry that I feel I need to put on a brave face. And I'm pissed at my lack of willpower, at my inability to pull myself together and go to yoga, take better care of myself and stop eating at Dairy Queen.

It's true. I am hooked on DQ Oreo Blizzards and it's all your fault.

It will come as no surprise that I am angry and hurt that you are dead. That you have been taken away from me. But as each day passes, I get more and more angry with you. If I feel alone, abandoned and betrayed by you, I can only imagine how Jen and Mack feel. It's a sick feeling. I am frustrated that I keep trying to make sense of this, even though I said I wouldn't, even though I know it's not possible. I am angry that your death will never make any sense, may never have meaning, may never have answers: why me, why you, why now, why why why.

I am angry on behalf of Rhyen, who will never know her Daddy. I am angry that she didn't even get one birthday party where she was Daddy's special girl. Her first birthday was such a sad day for me. For Jen. Sadder still because I know that you never would have missed that day. Unless something was terribly wrong.

Which it was. Is. I mean, I guess you were there, but I didn't expect it would be in some fugly marble urn sitting on your own mantle in the basement. I am angry for how much that bothered me. We should have brought you outside.

I am angry because I see how much this has changed Jen and Mack and I can see the hurt and sadness in their eyes when they look at me. I am angry that Mack looks and acts differently, that he has to experience such piercing pain at an early age. I am angry that he seems so full of rage, a rage that no amount of pirate band-aids or wrestling matches can alleviate or take away. I am angry that I cannot fix this for him or Jen or Rhyen or Mom and Dad or Adam or even myself. I am angry that I haven't been able to find anyone who can fix this. This is unfixable and unfair. I keep searching for the phone number or email address of a higher power but haven't come up with anything. Doesn't help that part of me has stopped believing in goodness.

I am angry for how much this hurts, for how long this process is taking, for how sick and tired I am of feeling this way. I am angry at my inability to put these feelings away for even a few hours so that I can concentrate and get my work done. I am angry that I feel like I am slipping. I cannot seem to hold on any longer.

I am angry that I no longer know how to refer to our childhood. Sentences beginnging with "the three of us," seem incorrect or wrong because I never know what verb to use. "The three of us look(ed) so much alike." It pisses me off because I stumble over my words all the time and I should be able to figure this out.

I am angry that I keep dreaming about you. Not because I don't want to see you but because these dreams upset me and I don't know what they mean. I know that I told you that you could, you know, visit me while I was sleeping, but I just wish you were more direct about what you want to say. Just don't give me any bullshit about how I have to take care of myself because I have been doing a fairly good job of that over the past few years.

And if I've fubared myself over the past 3 months, that too would be your fault. I just don't need to get paranoid right now about my body being unhealthy, since it's clear to me that Adam and I no longer have the luxury of dying anytime soon. I think we've both been given 75 year sentences. And yes, I realize that means I'll be roughly 107 years old.

I am angry about the amount of money I'm spending on therapy and massages and trains to Windsor and cabs to Robb's because I cannot stand to spend time alone in my apartment. I had a present from a fairy godmother and that has given me some breathing room and I am most grateful, but I'm angry that your death has forced me to accept a gift that I wouldn't have otherwise accepted because that acceptance is a sign of weakness and I hate being weak and vunerable. It's ironic that you were always concerned that I never had enough money to live in a big, expensive city like Toronto and yet your death has caused this huge financial burden. And it's not like hep-c wasn't one of those in the first place.

I am angry at people who don't understand when I'm tired in the morning and slower or later than normal. Believe me when I say that grief takes a lot out of you. I am supposed to be treating myself as if I had a triple bypass in May. Gentle. Non-critical. If the reality was heart surgery instead of losing you, what do you think I'd be expected to accomplish each day? Not a hell of a lot, likely.

To be clear, I'm not trying to get out of the work I need to do. I'm not using your death as a way to shirk responsibility for my life. On weeks when I don't take vacation time, I put in my hours. I'm angry that people can't take their heads out of their asses long enough to realize that grief is like an episode of depression. And that means that there are a lot of mornings when I don't want to get out of bed. Or do, briefly, only to end up back in bed after breakfast. The day ahead is too daunting.

I am angry that this is as good as it gets. I am angry that people can't figure out for themselves (and need to be told) that I am doing the best I can.

For right now, today, it is enough.

Nigella.com
Please note I am moving soon and would accept any Nigella-y things as housewarming gifts.]]> little things 2005-08-18T20:15:04-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/08.17_little_thi.html Luxury Silk Drapery, Alpaca Bedding, Organic Towels, Sateen Sheets, Designer LinensThis gorgeous stuff made me drool. And they ship... 414@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ Luxury Silk Drapery, Alpaca Bedding, Organic Towels, Sateen Sheets, Designer Linens
This gorgeous stuff made me drool. And they ship to Canada!]]> little things 2005-08-17T20:15:08-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/08.08_the_things.html Him: You are a lovely girl. Me: You're a lovely girl, too.* *Clearly, we need to work on our listening... 413@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ Him: You are a lovely girl.
Me: You're a lovely girl, too.*

*Clearly, we need to work on our listening skills.

Feld Thoughts: Discovering Work Life Balance
A great post on achieving work life balance. Sad that many of us discover it with a gun to our heads.]]> little things 2005-07-28T20:15:07-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/07.26_another_ne.html My parents have been planning for some time to get a new puppy, and the weekend before Dad's Day, they... 408@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ My parents have been planning for some time to get a new puppy, and the weekend before Dad's Day, they went to go pick up Mahogany (Maggy, for short) at just 8 weeks old.

A chocolate brown lab with the sweetest green eyes, she's simply the cutest thing, even though she is less than impressed with me for continuing to stick my camera in her face. Which may be why all of the pictures I get of her that are in focus look like this one.

She's very silly, and very much a water dog. She loves the pool - the big human one and her kiddie pool. She loves to bathe in her water dish (lick, lick then pounce with both front paws in the water). She enjoys picking up a bucket of water bigger than she is, running as fast as she can without spilling it, stopping abruptly, dumping it, splashing in the mud-water she's made and then putting the bucket on her head and running around some more bumping into things because the bucket is covering her entire head. Luckily this is outdoor behaviour. Watching her do this, I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. Just the other day Dad called to tell me that she'd jumped in the hottub.

I was at home for the long weekend for my niece's first birthday party. While being at home without my brother is painful, hanging out with munchkins and puppies for a couple of weekends in a row has been somewhat of a panacea for me and is helping to mend my broken heart. I thought I share more pics of little Rhyen's birthday weekend, including upside down swim goggles and annihilated ladybugs.

MR GISBY'S TOTALLY GAY PET SHOP
Totally gay, totally collectible toys.]]> little things 2005-07-19T20:15:07-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/07.18_little_thi.html LEGO SERIOUS PLAYGet paid for playing with Lego.... 409@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ LEGO SERIOUS PLAY
Get paid for playing with Lego.]]> little things 2005-07-18T20:15:06-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/07.14_little_thi.html zanshin.net... On grievingThanks, Mark. The writing I've been doing lately has been really hard, but very cathartic. Nice to... 407@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ zanshin.net... On grieving
Thanks, Mark. The writing I've been doing lately has been really hard, but very cathartic. Nice to know it's useful to others.]]> little things 2005-07-14T20:15:06-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/07.11_little_thi.html Hole-On-Ex Paper Pinhole CameraThe sweetest thing. I mean, how much fun would this be? (Damn, but I love Lomo.)... 406@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ Hole-On-Ex Paper Pinhole Camera
The sweetest thing. I mean, how much fun would this be? (Damn, but I love Lomo.)]]> little things 2005-07-11T20:15:10-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/07.08_little_thi.html Why Do You Work So Hard? / Is it maybe time to quit your safe job and follow your... 405@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ Why Do You Work So Hard? / Is it maybe time to quit your safe job and follow your path...
Oh Mark. Don't tempt me. I'm so incredibly, achingly close to psychologically and emotionally needing that kind of radical world-upside-down change it's not even funny.]]> little things 2005-07-08T20:15:07-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/06.30_little_thi.html small necklace at small thingsI have fallen in love with the wee bee.... 404@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ small necklace at small things
I have fallen in love with the wee bee.]]> little things 2005-06-30T20:15:06-05:00 http://www.staceywaspe.com/archives//2005/06.30_things_i_n.html I never knew I was a lucky person. I now have a deep understanding of how lucky I am. Lucky... 403@http://www.staceywaspe.com/ I never knew I was a lucky person.

I now have a deep understanding of how lucky I am. Lucky to have all sorts of wonderful people in my life. Incredibly kind, caring people who have stood by me and supported me through these past weeks. I feel unworthy and very grateful. Co-workers, friends, family, the BF, my cat Teagan, even strangers: you are are all amazing creatures. I feel like I will never ever be able to repay any of this.

It seems like helping someone through grief isn't the easiest task. Many of you keep asking me what I need. And even though I keep saying, "I don't know," maybe deep down I have some sense of what will bring me a little bit of peace.

It's hard for me to say these things to each of you, especially if I am already feeling raw or unglued. I hope you'll bear with me and refer back to this over the coming months. I reserve the right to make changes. I've never gone through anything like this before. Don't misunderstand me - I have grieved. I have lost people I've loved. But this time is different. This hurt runs so deep. Deeper than I could have ever possibly imagined.

A sibling is the closest most of us have to a twin, the closest most of us have to ourselves, separate yet the same, almost like a clone. Losing a sibling is like losing a part of yourself. It's as if a chunk of me is missing. There is a hole and it is raw and sore. I have been fundamentally changed, deeply wounded, by Terry's death. I worry about myself and I worry about my family. We have never weathered a storm like this. And so we as a family have also been altered. We will never be what we would have become had we not lost my brother. There is a wound there too. I run back and forth to put salve on the wounds but I am so tired.

All of us are who we are because of our experiences. As much as I have tried to pretend it is not the case, this too will shape me. And so I am grieving too for the me that I might have become had I not lost my 29-year-old brother at the age of 32.

So I when I say I don't know how you can help, say "yeah, yeah" and think of these things:

1. I need you to be kind to me. I am very fragile, like I might break at any moment. Communication might be hard. We may misunderstand one another. Please be gentle. Hugs are welcome.
2. I need you to be forgiving. I am on edge, full of frantic, spastic energy and I am prone to snap or peel my face off, revealing the monster within. Though grief is no excuse for rudeness, please don't feel that I am mad at you. If you are confused as to what's going on, or if you think I'm being unfair or mean, call me on it. (Gently.)
3. I need you warn me when I'm shutting you out. Don't let me. It's one of my many talents, though not one I am keen to hone. Call me. Visit. Send emails or text messages. Remind me that you're out there.
4. I need you to figure out how to help me grieve. Do research. Read a book. It's all I can do to manage my own grief, keep living day-to-day and worry about my family. I can't tell you how to help me. Because I don't really know.
5. I need you to keep trying. If what you're doing doesn't seem to be helping, try something new. What works at one moment is not likely to work the next.
6. I need you to motivate me to take my physical and emotional health seriously. It's very hard for me to do much more than drift right now. I am aimless, without willpower. It's hard for me to put myself first when I feel so much pressure from work and family and life in general. It's easy for me to skip yoga, eat sporadically and eat things that are not part of my regular regime. Once I start, it's very hard to stop. (Stupid bread.) Help me be nice to myself.
7. I need you to tell me it's OK to spend money on therapy and yoga and massages. Remind me it's not forever. I don't need to be encouraged to buy books and music and clothing, since I'm trying not to do that right now. But I'm feeling guilty about needing to see an RMT and going to yoga classes, even though I know my body needs it.
8. I need you to feel like you can say anything around me. Don't be afraid. You can bring up the fact that my brother is dead. We can talk about it. I think sometimes you think that we should talk about it, but you decide that I don't want to if I don't bring it up. I know it's hard to approach the subject directly and confidently with a gentle touch. I trust that you are able to do it, but I also I know that you're learning.
9. I need you to treat me like an adult, not a child. I am a grown woman, albeit a grieving one. I may need to be comforted like a child, I may act like a dumbass, but don't forget who I am. I will make mistakes, I will be forgetful, I will lose things. But I don't really need to be berated or reminded of my shortcomings. I am doing that very well on my own. (Damn squirrels.)
10. I need you to listen. I may cry and you may not be able to understand my words. But they need to be said. I need to get them out. Be patient.
11. I need you to help me be emotional around you. It's hard for me to express emotions in front of people, especially those whose opinion matters most. I've always felt emotions to be embarrassing. Don't let me keep them inside.
12. And even though it's unrealistic, and not something that you can really help with, I really need to win the lottery. Money cannot buy happiness, but it can certainly help you look better when you feel like hell. And it would be so nice to have the summer off.