A terrible fucking tribute to my sister.
June 12, 2021
Sometimes sisters aren’t born into your life, they’re found.
I found mine when I was 5 years old and the new kid at school.
Stephanie Renner was there in my class, she had cool blonde hair and even cooler were all the My Little Ponies she had at her desk. She was my first friend at school. Not only did she let me play with those ponies but when she broke her leg she always picked me to carry her shit up and down the stairs and eat inside with her instead of going to recess. We were clearly meant to be friends, who wouldn’t want to carry shit around to avoid other kids and play in the classroom without any of the other assholes to bother us?
I don’t have one major or minor life event that doesn’t include her. We played muppets in her basement and always fought over who got to be animal. When we went to middle school and she wore a damn Garfield shirt, I was still proudly her friend. She made me go on the Double Loop because boys were there and she didn’t want me to look like a scaredy cat. I did actually bite into her arm during that ride pretty hard but it helped me see it wasn’t that scary and I learned to take a chance. The first time either of us had alcohol it was in her bedroom and my crazy mom bought it. I mean, to be fair it was just Kahlua but we thought it was real cool. Couple of wild animals with a gallon of milk and some coffee liquor. We got our first jobs when we were 16 together at Sea World where we would sneak into Dolphin Cove after closing and pet the dolphins. She was there for every heartbreak. She was there to break the legs of any human who dare hurt me.
She was there when my kids were born and she took her new role of aunt maybe more seriously than any aunt that has ever been or ever will be. She wasn’t just an aunt it was that I knew, if anything ever happened to me my kids would be fine because she knew every one of my stories, she’d been there for every step of my life and could give more of me to them than maybe even I ever could.
She was our family record keeper. I never had to worry about taking the pictures and documenting anything because she did it all. She has every picture of our lives together cataloged into albums from the time we were babies until 3 days ago. As we’ve grown older I’ve lost a lot of my memories and she was one of only 2 people in the world who could fill in blanks and recall stories for me. A lot of those are gone now because only she remembered.
My traumas were hers, and hers were mine. Sisters.
These kind of loses cannot be summed up in a Facebook post or a blog post. These kind of relationships are documented in books. These kind of relationships span lifetimes.
There are so many stories and pictures and details as with any epic relationship and this will never dignify who she was or what she meant to me or my family but I am who I am in part because of her. My kids are who they are in part because of her. She will continue to shape this family whether the future generations know it or not and that’s ok because any time the glitter flies, we will know it’s because of her.
I will forever be broken. Her nieces and nephews, of which she adopted plenty, will forever be missing something.
Thank god she gave us so much to live on and remember for the rest of our lives to fill us up until we meet again.
HAPPY TRAILS.
You fucking dick. I love you.
The Sads
December 16, 2018
I’m struggling. Last week I finally realized, oooohhhh I see what’s going on here. I have a touch of the depression. Come home from work, right into pajamas. If I am not forced to do something on the weekends you bet your ass I’m in bed watching Friends for the thousandth time. Earlier this week I was at the grocery store and when I saw the wine and said to myself (or out loud who can say?) EH. I knew it must be bad then. When you don’t even feel like drinking the sads away it’s time for a self intervention.
After I realized what’s going on I thought about trying anti depressants but then I thought I should try what I know first. I KNOW diet and exercise helps, writing, reading, creating new habits, all of it. I KNOW. It’s kind of like telling someone who is at the bottom of a deep dark hole to just get out if you’re unhappy. SUPER HELPFUL. WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT? JUST WALK OUT! This is all me talking to myself by the way. So I am trying to claw my way out of the hole. It is TINY steps let me tell you. Like doing the dishes in the evening instead of leaving them for the next day so I can just get back in bed earlier. Yesterday I made a bargain with myself, ok lay down and play ONE game on your phone and then go get the laundry. When the game was over I tried to sweet talk myself into just one more but I held firm and got the laundry. Little victories!
I don’t feel like myself and for anyone who’s been around it ain’t you, it’s me. I’m trying and I’m sure I’ll get there one tiny victory after another.
New Year Who Dis?
January 4, 2018
I feel like in the last couple years whenever it gets close to the changing of the year everyone starts posting how this year was the worst ever, this year was a dumpster fire, this year was horse shit and then following it with hopefully next year will be better. I think years are just years. High and lows, ebbs and flows, ups and downs. It all balances out if you stop harping on and rehashing all the bad.
In 2017 I have been happy and gut pulling, lay on the shower floor heartbroken. I have made mistakes and I have learned new lessons. I bought a house but now I have to grocery shop at Aldi’s. Give and take.
This year I am going to guide myself by approaching life by feelings. How do I want to FEEL? I want to feel less rushed, so what things do I need to do to feel less rushed? I want to fit in my pants, so what do I need to do that? I think that makes more sense than putting rules on yourself and then feeling like a sloppy lop of shit when you break your own rules. So now when I have some wine and reese’s cups I’ll just think, oh self, you must have meant yoga pants. Good job! You’re on your way!
There will always be broken hearts and broken cars and broken bones and broken homes but there will also be happy days and sunny days and lazy days and kittens. Give yourself a break and relax and just figure out how you want to feel.
Anchors
December 10, 2017
“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” – Joan Didion
I’ve been thinking about that sentence a lot this week. My constant shadow of a dog was suddenly gone and I found myself more than lost. I was always aware of him, I needed to know where he was and what he was doing at all times to keep him healthy. He was special needs and high maintenance and he seemed to become an extension of myself. One second I was laying next to him and the next literal second he was gone. I found myself without a story. WHERE did he go? This realization that I didn’t know where my dog was and if he was being taken care of is unsettling. Bill & Adam helped with their stories of what they think but I still don’t know.
Everything is a story when you think about it. Religions are stories to comfort us and to guide us through life. We tell our kids stories to get them to be good, we tell ourselves stories so we can get up and keep going another day. The stories give us strength to pull ourselves off the shower floor after our hearts have been broken. They give us hope of seeing our dead again, well and happy, when the thought of black nothingness as an alternative is too painful to bear. The stories become our truths, and truths are no more than perceptions and perceptions are different for every being on earth.
This is why the sky was painted blue, so that we may not really see what is behind it.
I search for the meanings and the lessons in everything. I am always writing my story of this life trying to place it all together and figure out what the fuck I am supposed to be getting out of it. The stories change and evolve based on how we have changed and evolved. When we lose someone we love, someone who we thought of as a constant, the pain tells us a story. The pain says nothing stays the same so it’s best not to grab on too tight to anything because before you know it that anchor is just dust.
I hope the pain is just a sad mean hag because if our anchors taught us something, or helped us experience or learn something then they are alive. Those anchors move on in who we are just like many have been passed to us through others without us ever knowing. We are one.
But hell, what do I know? That’s just a story I tell myself.
For my best buddy. Nick 8/12/2005 – 12/6/2017 My shadow, my anchor.
Fifteen
September 26, 2017
This summer has been weird. Non existent really. Between trying to renovate our downstairs apartment and my mom getting sick I’ve felt like a glass of water that got knocked over and I’m just trying to keep myself from running over the edge, but the show must go on. J’s birthday was Sept 23 so we gathered the fam and surprised him with going to laser tag because he’s been asking to go for months and we haven’t been able to with all the shit swirling.
We had an awesome time and after that we headed home for cake and presents. If you know J you know that he loves it and hates it at the same time. He hates the pressure of being watched and all the attention on him so I usually have to physically put his hands on the gifts and help him unwrap. This year it was like that at the beginning and then he started going on his own. PROGRESS!
In the last couple months I went behind his back and petitioned the court for his name change. It’s a process and a pain in the ass but I did it. I got the notice that on Oct 16 (which also happens to be my moms birthday) we get our day in court and hopefully he leaves with his new name. Jayse Indie Bannerman. So for his last gift we got a big box and filled it with balloons with this new name and the court date on them and at the bottom of the box was the court notice. The following is a series of pictures of him opening the box and realizing what was going on.
Needless to say there was not a dry eye in the house. Next up I have to battle Texas to change his gender on his birth certificate but I will do it. I won’t stop until my boy and all the other kids have what they need.
And just like that my boy turned 15. Time can be so cruel but I am thankful that my 15 year old boy still asked for Spider-Man sheets for his birthday. (sorry J if any of your ladies read this)
Cloudy
August 22, 2017
The one thing I almost always have are words but right now I feel like they have abandoned me. Gone on to another human who can remember thoughts or ideas. I can feel the words wandering around and sometimes they even bump into each other and grab on creating a partial thought but i suppose the story forming just isn’t ready yet.
My mom got sick very suddenly last week and on Saturday it was time to check her into hospice. I don’t really have a clue what I’m doing so I’m just trying to show up. I wanted to let people know what’s going on because some days the shop might be closed randomly or I might forget to text or email back. I am trying to balance everything and keep things in order but sometimes it feels like I’m constantly bumping into the intricately laid dominos causing them all to scatter.
Price vs Cost
March 28, 2017
I’ve been thinking a lot about values and struggles and happiness. Like most people I’d like to make more money and be more successful but I wonder what I’m willing to give up to make that happen. Everything in life has a price and a consequence.
I was thinking about this in my work. I realized what I value more than money is being able to come and go when I want to. I’m clearly willing to struggle with money to be able to take off when I need or want to. Life is a trade off. Yes I can go to the beach when it’s warm and sunny but no I cannot buy a house.
When Bill & I split up we decided to stay married until we didn’t need to be anymore. We decided to stay married because it was easier than breaking apart and having to dismantle even more of our lives. We could stay a team and still have health insurance and cheaper car insurance. What I didn’t count on was the cost. What could possibly be the price of staying married to someone you aren’t with anymore?
It’s been two years since we have not been living together as husband and wife. Two years of being married on paper but also supporting each other through bad times and then being very distant other times. The push pull of the situation leaves me too open I think. It’s like a wound trying to heal that just keeps getting cracked open so the healing takes twice as long. For me being married to someone isn’t just a paper. It’s a connection. A partnership and a friendship. I value those things even when it hurts. This relationship is now 10 years old and for a lot of that time I felt like an after thought. I always felt like I was chasing him down waiting for him to turn around so I could see that he could see me and tell me I was important. Ten years man. I have been feeling like it’s time to close this door now because if I don’t whatever is left of this wound cannot heal. The thought of now having to close the accounts of our partnership and figure it out alone is overwhelming and scary but what will happen if I don’t? I keep feeling like I’m running behind asking to be loved? (BABY LOOK PRETTY NOW MOMMY? Watch the first 30 seconds of the video below if you don’t understand this)
The not wanting to struggle with totally ending our life together has turned into the struggle of not being able to properly move on. Hopefully being willing to struggle with the dissolution will bring the success of feeling peaceful within myself. Either way I’m sure I’ll write about it right here in this very blog until I figure it out.
Hey Little Apple Blossom
March 12, 2017
The prompt says “Fill these tiger outlines with three of your biggest fears, then color them in until you can’t see the fear anymore.” #startwhereyouare
Fears and worries are different I think. I am not AFRAID of the future but the worries I have regarding it certainly keep me up at night. I have written about fear before. I think fear is a bully who manipulates you into standing still, to being at it’s mercy.
I wrote some of my actual fears. 
The dark is a scary place. It’s unknown and monsters are known to lurk there, both the paranormal and human types. Plus how many times have you stubbed your god damn toes because there was no light?
Rapers. Under rapers the sub fears would be murderers, random attackers, robbers. I don’t want to be assaulted. Any time it’s dark outside and I have to go to my car I am on high alert. I have my stun gun out and my eyes and ears open. Everyone is a suspect.
Driving off a cliff while on a mountain road. Have you ever BEEN on a mountain road? That shit is scary. Twists and turns you can’t see coming and asshole drivers whipping around them like their car can just fly if it happens to fall off the road.
It’s pretty fitting that the marker I chose to write with could not be covered up by the other colors. You can run but you can’t hide. Some fears are healthy and they’re meant to keep us safe. Others, like the ones you see on the Maury Povich show, are ridiculous and meant to be overcome. Someone running away from pickles and kittens like those things can hold you down and gauge out your eyeballs needs some psychological help. I guess the trick is figuring out which are ok and which can be colored over for good.
“come and sit with me and talk awhile
let me see your pretty little smile
put your troubles in a little pile
and i will sort them out for you”
-The White Stripes
Worship Schmorship
March 7, 2017
Circle the things you worship the most. Underline the things you’d rather worship. #startwhereyouare
Worship is a heavy word. A word I don’t really like and I don’t believe in it for me.
wor·ship
ˈwərSHəp/
noun
noun: worship
-
1.
the feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for a deity.“the worship of God”synonyms: reverence, veneration, adoration, glorification, glory, exaltation; More -
adoration or devotion comparable to religious homage, shown toward a person or principle.“our society’s worship of teenagers”
synonyms: admiration, adulation, idolization, lionization, hero worship “he contemplated her with worship” -
archaichonor given to someone in recognition of their merit.
-
BRITISH
used in addressing or referring to an important or high-ranking person, especially a magistrate or mayor.
noun: His Worship; noun: Your Worship; plural noun: Worships
“we were soon joined by His Worship the Mayor”
I don’t worship anything. I love things and I appreciate them. I also really don’t like the part where is asks you to underline things YOU’D RATHER worship. If you’d rather worship something else wouldn’t you already? Maybe this was an exercise for people who are kind of jerks to come to a big realization that they’d rather be someone else? I don’t know. I guess I’d rather be a successful person with a bunch of money than one who struggles all the time but would I really? We live these lives to learn different lessons and finding peace with that makes it a lot easier to not play the WHY ME game.
David Foster Wallace said “You get to decide what to worship.” I think there is truth in that in the way of religion but in life what makes your soul feel quiet is not a choice. For me it’s nature. If I worship anything it’s this crazy planet, mountains, rivers, trees, and oceans. Nature is honest. It is a truth. When everything seems to be swirling so fast around you that you can’t even see you can lay down on the earth and watch the swirling slow down and then stop and the world will come back into focus. I’m not saying you won’t sit in poop or that a slug won’t slop himself onto your arm but the world will stop spinning.
Dream Weaver
March 6, 2017
candrasquire.com 