The Commonalities of Tragedy

After the fire, I was wrapped in a cocoon of understanding and sympathy for about two weeks.  It is now a month and a week after my house fire.  Things feel very complicated.  I haven't had much time to recover from the fire and am trying to squeeze in buying things like plastic food containers so I make my lunch in a bowl and cover it with saran wrap right now.  That's just one little inconvenience.  There are a plethora of inconveniences.  I toy with taking some time off of work, but I can't really abandon my freelance business or even put it aside.  Not sure what to do.  Want to hide from the world for a while but my life is not set up that way. I did not answer the phone yesterday when certain people who push my buttons called.  That was the best form of hiding I could muster.

I've been through four tragedies - my brother 13 years ago, my husband, my dog Montana in the fire, and a total house fire.  What they have in common is that people you don't expect to come through do, some people you thought were your friends abandon you, and it takes longer than you want it to to recover.

So there continues to be wonderful, heartwarming actions such as councilwoman Jennifer Keyes planning a benefit for me despite the fact that I filed a lawsuit with the town.

 I continue to be hurt by Larry's best friend who I have not seen since the funeral.  The background is that one day shortly after the funeral, I called him in tears saying that I missed him being at the house and asked him to just spend time with me.  There was dead silence on the other end of the phone.  I have never seen him.  Despite an email after the fire saying, "OMG, what can we do to get you up and running?" I have never even received a phone call from him..oh, excuse me, one just after the funeral.  I decided to suck it up because of the upcoming benefit on March 13.  We were in Larry's band together and the opportunity to play together was obvious.  Band mate Jeff and I invited him to play at the benefit via email.  No response.  So now I feel doubly hurt about this.  It's probably not about me, in fact, I wonder what is wrong with the man that he seems to have so little compassion for me, but it continues to feel so very personal.

Montana is on my mind this morning.  I used to make the dogs do tricks for their food.  Montana and Oakley are both part pit bull, they need to know that I'm in charge and they are not.  Any incident with a pit bull could mean forced euthanasia and making dogs work for their food puts me in charge and minimizes risk of them biting anyone.  Montana's tricks were done with such silly enthusiasm.  I miss her silly energy.  I miss Montana so much that I need to take a moment right now.

I usually read over these blogs to edit them and I just don't have the energy right now.