Dear Dazzy,

Updating your/my blog is not a chore, but you would think it is from the way I sometimes let it go here. I talk to you all the time in my head-well not all the time, but you know how we used to talk so easily and freely about anything and everything-and I find myself missing that level of communication that we had over and over again, along with the myriad of other things I miss about you ever single second that my eyes are not shut from sleep.

From Shakespeare's Hamlet:"To sleep, perchance to dream-ay, there's the rub."

Indeed.

Even though Hamlet was really talking about the sleep of death, I would pay for a regular, eight-hour, good night's sleep sometime soon. My natural body clock just does not jive with fall.

Until DST ends, I will be at odds with morning.

I have been exercising, taking the fish oil, the vitamins, yada yada yada , and still I don't fall into anything that feels like deep sleep until somewhere near or past midnight.

Then my phone alarm jingles-jangles-jingles at 6:30, and the fun begins.

While I don't have any small kids, I DO have an aging dog-"Ranger, the Wonder Dog"- who needs to be carried outside( arthritis means he takes longer to get going in the morning that I do, :P)

The young whipper snapper, Boomer, the "I wonder WHY" dog, lol, is mopey in the early morning before the sun comes up as well. He can be encouraged to go outside with the questions "squirrels?" and " birdies?" They both get fed, and I take care of moi, and I am usually on time for work.

Without a good nights sleep, though, I am forgetful.

Afternoon duty, morning meetings, collecting papers and returning those graded- aarrruuuugh.

I have had paperwork for the Aussie lawyers for a week now in my drawer at school( where it still sits) and maybe tomorrow I will remember to post the damn thing, :P

If not. well, then not. So be it.

Nothing much matters anymore that doesn't have to do with our children.

I throw myself into the work I do with my students, but on a personal level, I have no life.

Oh yeah, I go to moves and dinner with friends, but I might as well live in a Zen monastery.

I do the same thing over and over, like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, with no one to connect with heart/soul wise, and no one else with whom I would WANT to do that, anyway.

You are it, babe. Always.

I used to think that once I was a year away from your death I would be somehow better.

What a fool I was. Better is never going to be used in this equation. Ever.

I know I am in that funk that comes over me before an anniversary of sorts-and your birthday, on Sunday, is what's triggering this mess. I know it is. Last year I had a heap of Aussies here to celebrate(fun in a weird kinda way , ya know babe?) but this year I just want to be by myself, or with the kids.

I will buy you another card-like I did last year-and write my thoughts in it and put in into the memory box that sits in your closet. We will donate again to the Heart Association.

I will cry and curse god, or whatever is out there holding all those random molecules together, sad to the core of my being that you are gone-gone-forever from our lives.

I know that the day will come and go, and then I will have that uptick and I'll be grand until Halloween, and then Thanksgiving , and all the other nonsense that comes during the crappy weather and shortened days of winter. The roller coaster called grief is a ride no one ever gets off, like a twilight zone episode complete with weird music and shadowy special effects.

Tonight I will lose myself in TV and dog walking and phone calls to friends and kids-all good things, really-and I will lie down at 11:00 pm and attempt to, once again, fall asleep like normal people do.

Maybe tonight I will be lucky.

Maybe I will even dream. Wouldn't that would be grand? Hamlet sure thought so...:)

More importantly, I'd like a normal life once again. Sigh.

Maybe one day, eh babe?

Love you Dazzy. Always.

Kisses, Wifey.

************************************************************************************

PS- totally OT-if I have to listen to Sarah McLaclan's "In the Arms of the Angels" ONE MORE TIME in a friggin' grocery store, outlet kiosk, or on T.V., I am going to personally strangle the play list manager that scheduled it. I mean c'mon, surely there is another tearjerker of a song that they could be playing? Jeeze....