i dont have a gorgeous story to wrap around today.  i rarely do.  last night was so pleasant with paul back in our home.  it was nice to have him there to talk with and laugh with.  we went out to dinner and we ran around in the yard with the dogs.  today while i am working he is fixing a leaky bathroom sink.  i know, i know, our lives are packed full of intrigue!  i am writing now from work in attempt to make time pass a little more quickly… and to break up the monotony of working in a cubicle (on a saturday of all days).  but today has been decent and yesterday was so nice.  plus i ate pizza last night and today.  and pizza is always good.  it wasnt a million degrees in our bedroom last night thanks to paul and i purchasing and appropriately placing a small fan.  and it is always nice to sleep in air that doesnt suffocate you.  today has been overcast and a little dreary which i Love and reminds me of oregon days.  and in a few hours i will be celebrating nothing specific with a dear, dear, friend and her other close friends.  some of them i know, some not so well, but it will be nice to kick back and have some beers (and a little nip of rum, i think) on a summer evening in the house of Love.  side note to this: i call her home “the house of Love” not to her, so much, but to everyone else i talk to about it, because her house feels so home-y and filled with Love and memories and everything good in the world… like an eternal christmastime or a never-ending smile.  i dont know what essence is in that house, but i dont want to know… it would ruin the beauty of how each time i have stepped through that doorway, Love fills my soul and wants to explode all over the front hallway.  i Love her house.  i Love the way it feels.  i Love that a family so full of Love lives there.  and i hope one day, i will have my own house filled with that much Love… so much so that it radiates outward… and when people visit, they, like me, are compelled to explode.  so, yes, it should be a magical evening… i should finish my work and get to it…

i have had a really good week.  really wonderful.  on monday i talked to one of my bestest friends and though i dont think i gave her much opportunity to speak, she listened well and it was so much of what i have needed.  it was just nice to be able to talk about all the things i have been dealing with and thinking about and worrying over and then just have normal conversation.  just thinking back to that conversation makes me glad.  it really was what i had needed and it was wonderful just to hear her voice.  last night i spoke to a dear friend that moved away only about a month ago, and it was nice to catch up on her life and let her catch up on mine a little.  i miss her very much and she was my touchstone, really, here in my hometown and it is sad that she had to go so far away.  but she sounds great and she Loves her new home and i am so elated for her and cannot wait to visit her!  and today i spoke with paul’s doctor and he is doing so well (i could have told you that… i have seen so much improvement in his mood, his ability, his everything) and it was really nice to get to talk with him.  paul will be able to come home with me tomorrow when i get off of work and i am so glad.  i am sure he will be so happy too.  he really is ready to come and be with the dogs again and i am just so happy.  it will be nice to have him around again.  it will be really nice.  and on a nice day like this, i wish i was in mcminnville, on the rooftop bar, enjoying a cold pint of sunflower ipa and looking at all the beautiful land around me. 

i have missed you, paul, and i look forward to you being home again.  and, oregon, i miss you everyday, and i also look forward to being home again with you sometime soon.

last night i entered the hospital and as i rounded the corner to paul’s room, i noticed his feet moving around.  this was no excitement to me, as there are often nurses poking and prodding around and moving him side to side.  but, to my surprise, as i walked in, he was awake!  his eyes were open and i smiled and he pointed at me in recognition and it was so nice.  there were no tubes or sensors or anything.  they had cleaned him all up… trimmed his beard, brushed his teeth… it was so nice.  he is still slightly sedated and there is an oxygen tube in his nostrils, but he is a million times better than i have seen him.  his throat was sore and dry from being on the ventilator for so long, but he talked with me… well, i talked and he whispered.  i told him that i have missed him and i Loved him very much and i kissed his forehead and his lips.  and he said he Loved me, too.  i told him stories about the dogs and i asked him if he missed the dogs and he nodded.  i asked if he knew i came to see him every day and he nodded.  he told me he wanted to go for a walk and i told him i didnt think he was allowed to do that yet and he shook his head and knew he wasnt supposed to try to get up alone.  he started to get a little sleepy and he said he was tired.  so, i told him i would go home and take care of the dogs and come back to see him today.  he nodded and i kissed him again and told him how glad i was to see him and he smiled and i held his hand and i was just so happy in that moment to look at him and see him with eyes open and interested in moving around and thinking about me and the dogs and being able to talk to me.  it just meant a lot and i have been elated ever since.  i cant wait to see him this evening.  it will be so nice to talk with him again.  last night was wonderful.  today i am so happy.

so, this post is about paul.  that picture i took one chilly evening in march before we went outside to run the dogs and have a fire.  he looks so happy and i like to think of him like that.  i miss paul terribly.  he is still in the hospital.  last night when i went to see him the nurse was in his room and said he had been out of sedation for a while but she was about to put him back under (they need to constantly bring him into and out of sedation to see how coherent he is and if his body is functioning on its own correctly when he is not sedated… it is evidently a process that takes time and all people are different in their recovery).  it gave me about five minutes of really good time with him before he started to sleep again.  he held my hand and i touched his forehead (and the sensors on his forehead were gone so it was awesome!).  i asked him if he knew who i was and he nodded.  i told him that i miss him and i come every day to see him and he nodded.  i asked if he missed me too and he nodded.  i talked for a while about the dogs and asked if he missed the dogs and he nodded.  he opened his eyes and looked at me and tried to sit up some.  i told him i Loved him very much and that i wanted him to get better soon and he nodded.  i am sure that all seems so ridiculous and with the ventilator in, he is unable to speak, but to me it just meant the entire world was back in orbit.  even if it is much more slowly than i would hope for, i see him getting better every day and i am so ready for him to come home.  it was so nice to have him acknowledge me and realize i was there and share that moment with him.  how badly i have wanted to see his eyes and for him to respond in any way when i speak to him each evening i visit.  after that exchange he had fallen back into sleep, but as i kissed his cheek before i left and whispered to him (as i always do) that i would be back to visit tomorrow, he opened his eyes again.  i leaned into him and held his hand and ran my hand through his hair and smiled and knew that soon enough (no matter the time that it takes to heal) i would be able to curl up next to him again without the sensors and the tubes and the generic hospital smell and feel like everything is in its own perfect place.

last night was night seven alone in our bed.  last night was night five of paul being so heavily sedated that he cannot speak or open his eyes.  people tell me not to worry– that he knows when i am there to see him.  i wonder if that is true.  i have never been a person of “faith.”  “religion” is not something i subscribe to.  i feel i am spiritual in a million ways.  these days i wonder what the gods think.  i speak with them all the time.  ask them to look over paul.  to let him know i was there.  to let him know i havent forgotten him.  i dont know if any of it is getting through.  i kiss his forehead and there is nothing.  he doesnt move.  his heart beats stay the same on the monitor.  his blood pressure does not rise.  his breaths do not get quicker.  i hold his hand and talk to him about the dogs, about my day.  i ask him how his was, if he is okay.  he doesnt respond.  i tear up.  i touch his skin that isnt obstructed by a sensor or a needle or a tube.  there is no change.  every day there is no change.  and every day there is no change in me.  just keep breathing.  go to work.  feed the dogs.  keep it together.  keep your mind off of it.  dont break down.  laugh.  cry.  try to eat.  sleep.  it has been a week now without him in our bed, in our home.  he doesnt occupy any of our usual spaces.  the sadness has set in.  the loneliness comes at me in the strangest times.  eating dinner with no one to taste it but me.  the television show that makes us laugh, but only i am able to laugh.  the dogs wrestling together in the yard and running laps around one another and there is no one to smile with, to be proud with, to put my arms around.  the sun still comes up and goes down, but only i see it.  he is unaware all these days have passed without him.  he is unaware that i am trying to keep myself together.  he is unaware i miss his warmth in our spaces.  i want him to be well.  i want him to smile again.  mostly, i want him to be able to talk to me.  how much i miss talking with him!  i cannot explain how hard this is.  it is indescribably sad to be in this place.  and it is hard to put a time period on when this place will be behind us.  until then i can just keep breathing and working and laughing and trying to eat and sleep and playing with the dogs and all of those things until he is back with me again…  and all the moments that we share (that i never quite comprehended how precious they were) can once again be enjoyed by two.

yesterday something occurred that was more frightening to me than anything i have ever experienced.  after work i got home and paul wanted to go to the grocery to pick up some dinner items.  so, we went straight out and then headed back home.  once we got home, paul went into the kitchen to unload the groceries and i went into the bedroom to change my clothes.  i heard him turn the kitchen sink on to wash his hands (he is a compulsive hand-washer).  then i heard him gasping for air.  i called his name twice and no response.  then i heard him fall onto the floor.  i ran from the bedroom and saw him laying on the kitchen floor jerking violently.  i could not contain him.  i didnt even know if i should… i assumed this to be a seizure and i know very little about what to do in that situation.  i continued to call his name and he would not respond.  his arms and legs were stiff.  i could not hold his hand.  i didnt know what to do.  i could tell he was breathing.  i let the dogs in from outside and put them in their kennels.  at this time he was no longer shaking.  he was breathing deeply and still could not respond to me shouting his name or tocuhing his body.  at this time his body was limp.  his eyes were open but rolled back.  i called 911.  he told me to stay on the line.  we spoke and i told him what was occurring.  he said it, “unconscious.”  and it was true.  my paul was on the kitchen floor, unconscious.  unresponsive.  still.  a few minutes into the conversation i asked the man to hold for me so i could go put on some pants before the medics arrived (remember, i was changing my clothes when all this happened… and i hadnt put on the other pants yet).  when i went to change, paul was trying to sit up.  i spoke to him and he was very disoriented.  he was pale.  his eyes looked wide.  i told the man on the phone that paul could now respond to me and he was sitting and he had begun to walk to the living room couch.  then the medics arrived.  i hung up the phone.  the medics provided an oxygen mask for paul.  he was still pale and obviously confused.  they spoke with him for a while.  he refused the ambulance.  i locked up the house and we went to the hospital.  a million tests were run.  the doctor said he wanted to keep him overnight and run some more tests this morning.  all i currently know is he did not have a stroke or a heart attack.  they do not know what happened or why at this point in time.  i left him last night about 11:30.  i went home to our house and it was sad.  i was truly empty for the first time in a long time.  paul was not there.  and that deep stillness ran over me and it made me cry.  in spite of all the things we go through and the things i cannot stand about him and we cannot agree upon and we argue about… it all melted away.  and beneath it all, i just knew how much i truly Love this man and our life together and what he is with me and for me and all of those things.  and i missed him.  and i miss him.  right now i am at work.  i cant keep my mind focused.  i worry about him.  what they are doing.  what they have said.  i spoke with him about an hour ago for the first time since i left him last night.  he was very obviously on some type of pain medication.  he couldnt tell me much.  he said he missed me and the dogs.  he said he Loved me.  he talked about growing mint with other families.  he said he has been sleeping a lot and expressed sadness that he slept through lunch.  when i told him it was only 9:30 he seemed elated that lunch was on the horizon and had not passed him by.  i miss him.  i miss him being okay.  i just want to see his face.  it hurts to live through this.  i never thought it would hurt like this.  oh, paulie…

on this beautiful day, i thought i would post a beautiful picture of my beautiful spotty dogs.  that is maka with the crazy puppy teeth showing.  and jackson is the one ignoring her and sniffing the ground.  they are so in Love…

i have not written in weeks.  i guess i have been waiting for something significant to come about so that i may relay the grand story.  i fear that significant event isnt really coming, so i will write now about the dreams i have had lately.  they have been repetitive and beautiful.  lush with life and light.  i awake from them feeling incredible and moved and passionate and, oh, god, i could change the world.  then, reality sets in and i let the dogs out for a morning run, or sip some coffee and get dressed for work.  i dont live the life in my dreams and, i guess, that is precisely why it is dreamland.  thank the gods that my sub-conscious mind is willing to create such beautiful tapestries of color and such amazing stories for me or i would simply curl up in a corner and wither away from the blandness of my reality.  it is not a secret that i had never wanted to come back to indiana.  especially my hometown.  and now that the one year mark has set in and i realize i am actually here, for now, i am especially thankful for my dreams; the mini-motion pictures that treat me in my slumber.  the only parts of these dreams that i remember is when this man comes to me.  and i know him.  ive known him.  i know him well and i dont know him at all.  our hearts are in the same place.  he is a golden god.  there is light from his smile, his hands, his hair.  and we are at this place… like oz, or eden, or just plain somewhere magical, and i know we share conversation.  because i have been sad.  he comforts me and soon i know everything will be fine.  his whole aura just exudes that everything is going to be fine.  and i dont know what transition occurs, but soon i am talking with him about how much i Love peacock feathers and that, if it weren’t cruel to the animal (because, of course, he, too, is a vegetarian in my dream) i would dress myself in peacock feathers and lush purple silk (maybe this weird purple silk thing comes in because in the bible, lydia is mentioned only a few times, but she is known as the dealer of purple cloth… i dont know… and total side note on that– my sister used to call me “fop” [for “friend of paul,” which is one of the meanings of my name… because in the bible, lydia befriended paul… oh, way too much bible talk here…).  anyway, before long, we are dancing and wrapping one another in purple silk and peacock feathers.  and all i know is that at that moment in the dream i am completely content.  i am out in nature and there are all these blues and greens and purples of all varieties.  everything is so full and deep, yet so light and carefree.  i have come to an accord with the universe and with this golden god, and we are content to dance in the sun and look at the radiant colors around us, and cover one another in peacock feathers… and those glances we share… ah, they are the glances of understanding and comfort and unconditional acceptance.  those are the beautiful stares of joy and hope and Love and everything good.  those are the eyes and the hair and the hands of the golden god that simply “gets it.”  those are the looks from someone who is willing to wrap you in peacock feathers just because you want to feel beautiful and he is willing to oblige, if only so you know that everything, indeed, will be alright.

and since that was a little heavy, a shot of my precious billie goose, because she hasnt been getting near enough screen time…

today, as i walk to my desk, i tripped over the carpeting/ my own foot (which happens pretty often).  i look up and see my boss smiling at my obvious problems controlling my own legs and say, “i trip over this same spot of carpet all the time.”  she says, “yeah, that carpet is pretty tricky.”  i smile, and say, “yep.”  i continue walking to my desk, believing the conversation is over and then she says, “hey, happy birthday, craphead.”  some days i just Love working here…

i wouldnt say (nor would anyone say about me, i cannot imagine) that i am (or ever have been for that matter) a secure person.  i second-guess myself and everything/everyone around me… all the time.  lately it has been even moreso.  in two days i turn 28 years old.  this is no milestone to most… it is not 30, it is already past 25, and 40 is on the distant horizon.  but there are so many days i feel like a failure.  to myself, to my family, to my dogs… i just, i dont know… i guess i had this grand idea of the things i would have accomplished by this time in my life… 10 years after i have graduated high school, 6 since i got my college degree.  and honestly, i dont even know what those plans were or what i would have wanted them to be.  i just know i see people around me living lives that they are happy living… good jobs (or jobs they Love), married/ settled down with a serious partner, living in their dream city… and what have i done in the ten years since high school?  nothing significant…  i have pleased some part of my soul by traveling with true friends, i have seen oceans, my heart has broken and healed and Loved with more force than i knew possible, i have cried, i have danced, i have drunk too much wine, i have listened and foregone being listened to, i have made poor decisions, i have made wise decisions, i have longed for something, i have longed for someone, i have found Love in three beautiful dogs that Love me unconditionally… i guess i could go on.  maybe the problem is that i dont feel like any of those things are good enough, like none of them are worthy.  ten years ago i was so beautiful and thin, and motivated and driven, and passionate, and hopeful.  and i guess i am still those things in a way, but so different… so much more cynical.  i am motivated for different things, passionate about different things, but not as often hopeful.  i feel i have lost my ability to hope; become so much more critical of myself.  and i guess it goes back to something someone said to me so many years ago (and i am sure that she never knew it would affect me like this/ never meant for it to)… she said, “people dont like you, lydia, they feel sorry for you.”  and it made me (still makes me) reconsider and scrutinize every friendship/ relationship i have held since then.  i am constantly questioning if i am worthy of speaking to someone, why they would really want to carry on a conversation with me.  when i am alone, i am less able to list good qualities, and instead try to figure out why someone would ever desire being near me; what they could see in someone so obviously wasting oxygen in their presence.  and the worst part about all of it is, i dont hate the person that said that to me.  i dont even hate the words that she said.  i Loved her (and still Love her for everything she shared with me/ taught me) and i believed what she said… i trusted her so much that i believed (and still do to some point) that people do not actually like me; that i am a pity friend, a pity fuck, a pitiful failure.  and it is terrible to feel that way.  and it is even worse that her words ever had that much affect on me.  im sure if she heard me say any of this she would think it was ridiculous… that it was so long ago and she wasnt that serious and i should know better and blahblahblah.  but that sentence has stuck with me stronger than lots of things people have said.  i havent forgotten the wonderful things people have said to me, though.  i know that there are some people that care about me more than i can know/ more than i would like to admit.  i dont know… this birthday just has me feeling like i should be somewhere else, doing something else… making my family proud or making myself proud or showing that girl that people do Love me.  but i feel so tired.  so let down.  by myself, by my choices.  and here i am… the girl who left this city ten years ago… and now i am back (where i swore i would never be again).  and i am turning 28.  and im low on dog food.  and the humidity in the air here makes me want to run all 3500 miles to the oregon coast and swim in the ocean while trying to figure out the difference between the salt water and my tears.