Dish Towels

I am tired.

Just…tired.

This was not a good day. None of them have been of late.

I have been drinking very hot sweet cinnamon tea by the pot full.

Not helping. Just giving me the jitters!

I have new neighbors. I have yet to meet the parents, but I have met the two sons. Also met the grandfather. He seemed stunned that I was single. Said I was a very nice beautiful lady. I should have a husband or at least a boyfriend. I keep looking for some strange man to show up at my door saying he was sent over to get to know the single gal.

The boys though.  Sweet and very gentlemanly. Bowed their heads when they introduced themselves. And they were very inquisitive about Lulu. That is how we met actually. She was at the fence watching them move in and they asked to pet her, which she loved. She is an attention seeking Diva!

She was.

Today, they were outside and asked if they could pet Lulu.

After explaining….

They were very sweet and said they were so sorry and….

And…

I walked into my house, slid to the kitchen floor and cried.

A Dish Towel Cry

You know what I am talking about, right? That’s when tissues will not handle the tears and snot and screams.

I sat on the floor scrubbing at my face and stuffing the towel into my mouth to stifle the roar that was coming from my chest. I was numb both body and soul when I finally calmed down.

All because two sweet little boys asked after my Baby Girl.

I wish I could say this was a “one-off” situation.

That would be a lie.

Friday:  I went to Target. I love Target. It’s like my church!  Alters of merchandise to worship and touch and pray too.

I walked the aisles to clear my head. I needed to get out of the house because…

Well…because my once too small of a house is now huge and empty.

So I walked the aisles looking and touching and yes…praying.

I saw they had chips on sale and I grabbed a bag of Cheetos! Lulu LOVES Cheetos.

But Lulu is not here to eat them with me.

I left “church” in tears and no Cheetos.

Went home, stumbled into the house and barreled into the kitchen for a glass of water, which my trembling hands dropped. I meant to pick up the glass but instead…

I had slid to the kitchen floor and cried.

A Dish Towel Cry

Saturday: Spent time with Lisa! Was slightly manic. I do apologize for that, my friend. I did not know how else to deal with things. I was overly jovial! I was being my usual funny sarcastic self but a bit more harsh. I was forcing the smiles. Forcing the humor.

I was very well made up because I know me-if I have my contacts in and full regalia of make-up- I will do damn near anything not to cry.

Hello! Expensive mascara!

But since it was a Saturday, 2 weeks before Christmas, we left the store and went to have a drink instead. The lines were wrapped around the checkouts-hell no!!  We had about a half hour to waste before Lisa had to pick up her son and because of my state of mind, I guzzled 2 glasses of very delicious raspberry Moscato. (Sorry about that! Next time…I will slow it down!)

Then I went to the grocery store. Was fine right up until I got home and was unpacking my bags.

Out of a habit I REALLY need to break, I had picked up a bag of Lulu’s treats. I did it every time I went to the store. Never wanted her to run out.

Next thing I know I had slid to the kitchen floor and cried.

A Dish Towel Cry

Sunday: I love Sundays. They are my “chill in my jammies” day. I was getting some ice, dropped a cube on the floor and called out, “Baby Girl! Ice cube!”  She loves them!

…loved.

The echo of my own voice was deafening. There was no scuffle of little feet. No dancing to pick it up.

There was no Lulu.

And I slid to the kitchen floor, into a melting pool of ice cube water, and cried.

A Dish Towel Cry

Monday: I have been cleaning the house. It needs it and it keeps me busy. Keeps my mind off of things. Until I opened a cabinet and saw several cans of her food. I forgot they were there. I slammed the cabinet door and hyperventilated.

Then… slid to the kitchen floor and cried.

A Dish Towel Cry

Damn.

Even cleaning the house has been difficult for me.

I am cleaning all the dog hair and toys and dog beds and removing them from the house. From my line of sight. I took all her and her big sister Boji’s pictures down and placed them in a drawer. I yanked the 2 pictures I painted of them off the wall and nearly flung them across the room. I just feel a weird urge to throw something. To break something into a million tiny pieces like I feel I have broken into.

But I stopped myself. I love those paintings but I cannot handle seeing them. Or seeing their pictures.

How horrible am I? I miss her so desperately but yet, I cannot find the courage to look at her pictures.

It was bad enough spending the last 3 days having her basket of toys staring at me, accusingly. Like this was all somehow my fault. Damn stuffed monkey.

I feel as if I am cleaning Lulu away from my life. Like I am doing her a disservice. I know…in my head I KNOW I am not. I am mourning. I am trying to heal. But a part of me wonders if I am going to fast with this cleaning. And once I thought that…

I slid to the kitchen floor and cried.

A Dish Towel Cry

Anyone else notice a pattern?

I have a load of dish towels in the laundry right now.

I am still trying to get my head and heart around all of this.

If I think cleaning the house and removing her things is fast…losing her was faster!

Hours. Mere hours and she was gone.

I handed them my beautiful Baby Girl.

They handed me a receipt for her “vacation”.

I was holding her one minute and the next…I felt her leave.

What happened?

Fuck.

I need some more tea.

And a dish towel.