Tag Archives: life

Why do people get married anyway?

28 Saturday Aug 2021

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Random, Uncategorized

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I woke up at 4:30am thinking about this for some reason.

NOTE: I am happily married and wouldn’t change it.

But brain be weird sometimes.

So as I was falling asleep, I thought about it, and thought about it every time I woke back up.

Why DO people get married?

You can be together and share your life with someone without the license. So why make it government legal.

Here’s an example.

Fred and Wilma are high school sweethearts. Together since they were teenagers. They love each other dearly and are moved in together by their mid-twenties. Eventually they buy a house together, except Fred’s credit is better so it’s his name on the home loan. They never marry.

But, eventually Wilma is making more so she’s paying the home loan and they split the remainder of the household bills. They pick out furniture together, they grocery shop together, they share everything.

They’re perfectly happy, and decided many years before they didn’t want children. By their thirties they’re doing quite well.

The only issue they have is that Fred’s parents, Don and Karen, don’t like Wilma. Karen especially. She thinks Wilma stole her only baby away before he was even grown and now she won’t have grandchildren because Wilma doesn’t want children.

So, they don’t talk to Fred’s parents much. But other than that, life is great.

But one day, while Wilma is at work, Fred is in a horrible car accident. Wilma rushes to the hospital Fred needs surgery so Wilma, the o my person there to consent, allows it without question.

But while surgery keeps him alive, he suffered a severe brain injury and was put in a ventilator during surgery.

Don and Karen show up (who called those two). And the doctor comes in. He tells them all that Fred’s brain injury was severe. He’s on ventilator but may never come off. And if he does he might be functional and require constant care.

Wilma, who has know Fred for decades, loved him for decades, knows that Fred would not be a burden. And that he wouldn’t want to be on life support indefinitely. She tells them this.

But Karen disagrees. She won’t let Wilma take her baby away forever. She wants to keep Fred on life support, in case there’s a chance he could come off. Even the tiniest chance.

So Karen makes it known that Wilma and Fred were not legally married. Which means that what is his is not hers and vise versa. Because Karen and Don are Fred’s only living legal relatives it is decided to keep him on life support.

Eventually the time comes when Fred’s body no longer can hold in on life support. So despite Karen’s desire to hold on to a son that was no longer there, Fred dies.

Fred had no will.

A will would have been a legally binding document that would have made Wilma Fred’s heir if he so chose.

So all those years together, all that time spent together, sharing a life, because Karen hated Wilma, Wilma could get nothing from Fred’s estate.

Of course…

Proof of a relationship, proof Wilma paid for the house, despite it being in Fred’s name, all the shared possessions. Might save Wilma in this situation.

Also I don’t know much about the laws. I don’t know about “common law marriages”, if there still a thing.

But I do know that wills are legally binding, if properly done.

If you’re gonna be in a long term relationship without marriage, be sure you have something legally binding, because the wrong angry person could fight it.

Again

NO IDEA why all this came up in my head at 4:30 in the morning.

Thanks for reading!

-c

A Journey of a Thousand Problems

22 Monday Mar 2021

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Uncategorized

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In my last post I talked about a journey to… not dying. And the reasons why I’m not ready to shuffle off this mortal coil. There was a storm and flooding and I fear death and big rivers. Blah blah blah.

The point is that post was all about me doing things to keep myself alive and to make my life better. Though I know that Death waits for no man (or woman in this case), there are things in my life that I can fix or work on, that may or may not cause or contribute to my untimely demise (or depression).

The Reason to Live

My daughter. That’s it. That’s my only reason. It’s been settled in my heart and my head (both of which will have starring roles in the “problems” section) that if something were to happen to her, my life would lose all meaning and I wouldn’t need to be around anymore. But that’s a tale for another time.

Anyway, she is six, sleeps in the bed with me, is really great for your ego (typical “my kid” lines are “mommy I just love your hair” or “I just love your glasses” she’s even said “daddy I love your bald head.”). She’s amazing and young and learning and doesn’t need to lose me just yet.

And I don’t want to lose the joy I have being with her. So she is my reason. For everything.

The Physical Problems

I’ve briefly mentioned them in the last post, and I’ll go into slightly more detail.

  • Heart: I’ve had heart problems, seen by a doctor but as yet unnamed, for several years now. Three? Four? And I live in constant fear that I’ll have a heart attack and die. Post soon to come about heart attacks in women. Even now I have some mild chest pains. But is that my heart or muscle pain from raising my arms over my head instead of climbing a ladder? Dunno.
  • Head: I’ve had some dizziness and headaches pretty frequently lately and over the course of a few years. My mom, who passed away almost three years ago now, had multiple aneurysms. If she were here now she’d say: “yeah but they didn’t kill me” and also: “GO TO THE DOCTOR.” The very thing I would tell her. I know just because she had it doesn’t mean I will, but they can be hereditary. And also I’m paranoid.
  • Weight: you know what’s super annoying? When you call yourself “fat” and someone says, “oh, no you’re not”. But then you look at yourself then back at them, and go, “I have a number for my ophthalmologist” (had to Google that). I am fat, though. I am what modern science would call “morbidly obese”. I’m ok with it, I’ve been in this body for a while I’ve come to terms. I don’t want to be. But between work, parenthood and exhaustion I have no time to, well, anything.
  • Feet: while not an immediate “gonna kill me now” thing, I have very bad feet. Bad enough that I’ve wanted to find a secret corner at work and cry. They hurt terribly and I’m in a job where I’m on my feet for 6 to 8+ hours a day. Sometimes I climb stairs, frequently I climb ladders (lately I reach, explaining possible muscle pain). My feet are my number one source of pain, and I believe one of the reasons I don’t get much done.
  • Stomach: here’s another “my mom had it”. I have stomach issues. I’ve never been diagnosed with anything specific. My mom, over six years ago, so three before she passed, had to have a large portion of her bowel remove due to a blockage. She ended up on ventilator because she’d had some breathing issues during the surgery and didn’t come off for a very long time. I started having bowel issues several years ago. They’ve gotten worse over the years and I fear the outcome. She ended up with an ostomy (a whole in her side where poop could come out). She was strong and learned quickly (with the glorious and amazing help of my sister). But she also didn’t work in the public. I struggle enough with self confidence, I don’t think I could handle the transition to pooping in a bag. Not that I judge, she was an expert at her own changing process.

The Fixer Quicker Upper

Looking at that wordy list of issues, I can see the number one way to improve my problems and live longer (unless Death decides its accidental) is a lifestyle change. Healthy habits could lead to weight loss: less weight on my feet would improve them. No caffeine had been “suggested” (forbidden) for my heart issues. But man I love me a Pepsi.

Eating for better bowel health: self explanatory.

Clearly a lifestyle change, including healthier eating would improve several of my physical problems. My first step (even if it hurts) is a doctor appointment. I’m due some blood work anyway, and only a doc can check certain things.

But wait! There’s more…

However, it’s after 2am, my body isn’t physically capable of anything last 2:30, this post is already a mile long, and my kid is restless. I’ll be back for the rest of it later!

Thanks for reading.

-c

Her favorite word is poop. She’s been known to say, “I love you poopy too.”

Covid-Diaries 2: the listining

07 Thursday May 2020

Posted by in Non-Fiction

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Reasons Why this Leave is BAD

1. My and my child’s sleep schedule are WAY out of wack.

2. I forget what day it is.

3. It’s simultaneously dragged on and flown by.

4. Who is me?

5. I’ve done absolutely nothing (except TRY to teach my child. And play Sims).

6. I’ve gained weight. I WAS ALREADY MORBIDLY OBESE. (I actually miss the gym)

7. The people I thought were my friends haven’t tried to contact me. But then I’m not trying to contact them.

8. I haven’t left my house but twice in a week. Wait that’s a good thing haha.

8. I have to make sure to start my car up every few days or it’ll go into a coma.

9. I’m on Facebook and YouTube way more than before.

10. Haven’t even attempted to clean my kid’s room.

Thanks for reading.

-c

Crash Land, Crash and Burn

25 Sunday Aug 2019

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Poetry

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Crash Land, Crash and Burn

I keep crash landing

Missing the mark

But somehow making it safely to earth.

But some day

I’ll lose control

Of all the things I’ve tried to hang on to.

And I’ll crash and burn,

And lose it all.

My struggle is real.

No matter how hard I try,

I feel like I fail at everything that I try.

I have no time. No energy.

And all I really want is a way to escape.

Escape the pain, escape the fear.

Run away,

From what I can’t seem to get right.

But some how,

I keep crash landing.

I miss the mark but

I make it safely to earth.

One day, I’ll lose grip.

And finally I will crash and burn.

-c

Grape Chapstick

24 Wednesday Jan 2018

Posted by in Family

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Yesterday I spent the day with my mom. She had an appointment with a doctor about an hour away from home and needed a ride. Being the lovely daughter I am, ha, I provided said ride.

I hadn’t driven myself in the area before, but am really the only one able to take her, so I was happy to help. Plus I spend the day with her and nothing beats it.

On the road we talked about many things, including chapped lips (the most annoying thing in the world). We were discussing everyone’s favorite remedy, the Chapstick brand, and I was telling her how my favorite was the new Shea butter Green Tea and Mint.

She mentioned that she’ll always love their grape flavor. She said she loved it when she was young and my dad alway brought her some. It reminded her of her youth.

I remembered she’s mentioned it before. And that over three years ago, when she’d had major bowel surgery, I’d bought her a tube, although she was mostly intubated and sedated.

But I wanted her to have GOOD memories.

So I messaged Chapstick.

It shows that they’ve seen it, but they’ve yet to respond. Truthfully I expected an automated form reply thanking me for contacting them and telling me they’d get to be ASAP.

Let’s see what happens. Ball’s in your court Chapstick!

-c

Ps: I’m not expecting much. Thought I’d give it a shot!

My Mom

05 Friday Jan 2018

Posted by in Family

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I am the mother of a three year old who amazes me every day.

I have written stories that people are actually excited to read.

I was the first person in my family to graduate college.

I’ve had the same job (and done well) for almost nine years.

And nothing has made me prouder recently than hearing my mom say “I will never smoke again.”

Granted she’s 61 and just now affirming it. And she had to feel like she was dying to say it. But she sounds sincere and determined, despite the C-PAP/BI-PAP/”scuba mask” machine on her face.

For years she has been fighting with smoking related issues (COPD, emphysema) gradually making her daily life more and more difficult. For decades we have begged her to quit smoking.

But it took another near death experience to convince her. I’m okay with that.

My mother has raised her own four kids, helped raise some of her eleven grandchildren, helped care for several more kids who were not her own. She’s a major part of so many lives and those lives would turn upside down if she were to leave us.

And if her quitting a 40+ year habit would only add a few years to her life, then, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure sure has all the support she needs.

I love you my momma.

-c

Lucky & Unlucky

21 Monday Aug 2017

Posted by in Family, Motherhood, Non-Fiction

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My daughter is very lucky.

She has two parents who love her very much, who love each other, and live under the same roof. And if, god forbid, her parents ever stop living together, they never stop wanting her happiness above all else.

Some children aren’t quite as lucky. Some children only live with one parent, some children live with grandparents. Some children have no parents at all. Some children’s parents fight with each other over who gets more time.

Some parents just want to love their children. I am very lucky. I get to move my daughter, daily, under the same roof as her and her father. I love them both and their happiness will never stop being important to me.

Sometimes children are better off when parents are separated. Because happier parents make for happy children. Some adults simply cannot get along. It happens. For whatever reason, two people who were together long enough to make a child cannot or should not be together. That happens.

But sadly the children can suffer. And sometimes a parent suffers. Step-parents suffer. Because sometimes those parents cannot be with their child as much as they used to, as much as they’d like to.

My daughter is very lucky, so am I and her father. I will always be grateful I found someone I love, and with that love we were able to create a life we will cherish.

Some families aren’t so lucky.

I hope sincerely that a permanent solution can come about that can be equally beneficial to all parties. Because no one likes a broken heart. But maybe we can live with scars, if we can find a way for everyone to be happy.

I truly hope that one person involved is doing what they’re doing for the right reasons. Because if not, in the long run, it’s the innocent that’s gonna get hurt.

A Damp Spring Night and the Clutter of Life

12 Wednesday Apr 2017

Posted by in Non-Fiction, Truth

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I hate driving in the rain. I also hate driving in the dark. Therefore driving in the rain at night is a perfect combo platter of awful for me. 

I’ve only been mobile a four years now. So, I feel like I am still inexperienced. I’ll probably always feel that way. But I gotta do it. 

Tonight I worked late so when I got off, it was dark and pouring rain. The route I take follows a river for most of the trip. On the way home it’s on the right. On nights like this–dark and damp–I cannot help but picture me and my Chevy Cobalt swerving uncontrollably, crashing through the guardrail, and sailing majestically RIGHT. INTO. THE. RIVER. 

I have a bit of a paranoia problem. I get it from my mother. 

So, during the trip tonight, I drove much slower than normal (luckily there weren’t any impatient drivers behind me) and listened to the sound of rain and wipe blades working overtime. I left my music off because concentration. 

In my “quiet time” of fear, thoughts ran uninhibited through my head. Visions of my demise on damp spring night in a cold raging river plagued me. 

The main concern was that my dear husband would be left with the aftermath. Just last year he had to deal with not only the loss of his father, but his brother as well. And since his brother had no children and his wife had passed several years previous, my hubs and his mother were left with sorting through the clutter that comes with life. 

He doesn’t need to have to do it again, anytime soon. So, I’ve decided to do it myself. I have an office/guest bedroom filled with clutter and useless items gathering dust. I plan on spending several days over the course of the summer purging the office of my lifetime of clutter. 

The fear of death by river brought out my need to organize. 

I never said I was normal. 

-c