Well one year has come and gone. We have now experienced all the "firsts", first birthdays, first Christmas, all the first holidays and anniversaries. We made it through and we both sound better.

I got your email yesterday about your health issues. Bad knees, carpal tunnel, overweight. Sounds so normal, especially for you. I hope and pray you continue on this path. There is no other way for you to go now. It's this or nothing.

I don't comment on your desire to see me and Frank because I am not able to see you yet. There is still way too much hurt and anger inside me, too much distrust of your new life. But I do pray that "this too shall pass".

I love you.

Okay so last week you let Frank know you have an email account and we can stay in touch that way. That is less confrontational so I appreciate that. Thank you.

I haven't even tried to send you any message; honestly I had no idea what to say. I don't want to fill an email what my fears and regrets for you. Nor do I want to fill it with my normal life doings. I don't believe either of those is fair to you. The flip side of that however is you wouldn't care if it was fair to me or not. But let's not travel that road tonight.

I didn't sleep a bit last night for knowing that tonight, without fail, I was commited to sending contact to you. Well I did. So it is done. Until the next time.

I am trying to love you without fear.

It has been HOT here the past few days and looks like it will be for the next few. Makes me think of you. I hope you are still at SA, at least I know you can be cool and SAFE. It is so much easier to get warm than to cool off when in a situation such as your's.

I want you to be safe. Safe from the criminals I know you have dealt with in the past. Safe from the weather elements (just watch the news regarding the midwest states). Safe from yourself.

Of all the above I believe the one I worry about the most is safe from yourself. You have always been your own worst enemy.

I love you.

Through this journey to healing I want to like you again, I want to look at you and NOT feel so angry and sick.

I have a snapshot, and somewhere an oil painting, of me and Jay. The photo was taken in a studio, we are dressed in our navy and white Easter outfits. He is about two so I was nine. We are so happy with life and each other. His hands are clasped together and you can see the excitement in his eyes. I look like a proud big sister. I cry every time I look at it. Because we were so innocent and had no idea what lie ahead for us.

I want to look at a picture of you and feel that way. I hate the way I want to strangle you each time I hear your voice. I see the photos of you and just put them to the side. I will not destroy them. Perhaps you will heal your life and want those or perhaps my heart and mind will heal and I will want to look at them again.

That time is not now.

Once More

Of course since you called yesterday I didn't sleep last night. Murphy's Law.

I thought about my best friend last night while I wrestled with how I feel about you. I thought about the fact that she and I may talk one day about her and her family. The next time we may talk about my family, the next time we may talk about both families or neither family. Sometimes we just talk about how we are feeling about the gas prices, the economy, the world at large. But we talk. We are equal in caring about each other. But you....you care about no one but you.

My sons talk with each other a great deal since they live in different states. Neither of them talk with their sister on the phone much. But when they all get together it's as if they have talked to each other every day. There is a bond that nothing can break.

You and I don't have a bond. Your idea of a bond is I give and you take. I'm not having any of that any more, ever again.

Did you know my mother died last June? Yeah I know your mother died last June, but did you know mine did too? Do you care that I lost the woman who gave life to me, I lost the last parent I had. I lost a best friend. Did you know that? I suppose not; you lost the person who allowed you to live in HER house and not help in any way. I still grieve for the person I lost. The last person who knew me as a child on an every day basis.

I know you lost your mother. And I do care. But what about me? Does that ever cross your mind.

In Another Life

Had you taken a different path you could have been a politician based on the voice msg I just listened to.

I didn't take the call when I saw the area code and didn't recognize the phone number. I was afraid it may be you. Every time I hear your voice, see your hand writing or even think a call may be you the hair on the back of my neck stands up. My stomach turns over and I feel as if I may be sick.

That's crazy.

It's completely insane that one person can make me feel this way.

Here's what I got from your message. Thank you for the card and send me money. No you didn't say send me money, you didn't even ask. You said you couldn't call because it cost money and you didn't have any money. Poor, poor, pitiful you. So what did you do - call from the doctor's office. Do you know they pay money for their phones? Contary to what you appraently believe people have to pay for the things in life they want!

I am not sending you money.

I think I may sell Jane's piano. Guess there isn't much sense in trying to discuss that with you though. You haven't held ANYTHING close to your heart because it was close to her's. She played beautifully; by ear; didn't even need a sheet of music but could play from that as well. She was brilliant when she sat down at that piano. It's going to break my heart to sell it.

However I have no room for it, don't play that well, don't really have time to practice and I think having that piano will only make me grieve for her more. If that is even possible.

My neighbor leads music worship at his church and has three small children. I have spoken to him about donating to the church but their church meets in a school and cannot use. But he may be interested in buying. I am thinking a very small charge, then that money can go to the funeral home.

Do you remember asking me to leave her sewing machine when I was cleaning out the house? You said you needed to hem some pants. My family begged me to take it considering my sewing business but no I wanted to leave because you asked for it. They said you were a liar and would only sell it for drug money, I KNEW what you would do with it. And you did. Took it to the pawn shop. You must surely be their best customer.

I know you took so many of Mom's tools there over the years and she simply paid for them and took them home. It was a vicious cycle of you stealing, her covering up until I pulled it out of her, then her picking up the stuff and you stealing it again.

I am so thankful I am not you.