Friday, October 1, 2010


I've been struggling a bit. We all have. As Jane so poignantly descibed yesterday:

"I feel so down today - you know that kind of day when your grief is right up under your eyelashes and the second anyone sneezes at you you start to cry? That's how I"m feeling today."

Aw, Janey.

Your girls are hurting, Dad. I'm sorry that you're getting yelled at by so many of us this week, but we're all pretty peeved with you. Espcially mom, who is having to deal with remodeling and selling a car and beurocracy and other nonsense that was strictly your gig.  

I was feeling awful yesterday, too. I can't sleep and I'm so emotional and snappy all the time. And when I woke up Thursday morning knowing that I had to face the day, I protested. My exact words to my family were: "I'm not going. Fuck 'em." 

It was a good move, I needed it. And I decided to tackle the beast of my girl's closet while I had the house all to myself. I wanted to yell at you for not being here to help me with the stupid closet, but I knew that we needed you watching over our Quito girl that day, so I let you off the hook.

To start the closet, I reached for something up on the high shelf while standing on this stool.

It jogged a memory, Dad. I had to abandon my project before it had even begun, because I needed to find this:

My baby boy's baby book

I knew that what I was looking for was tucked in the sweet little ribbon-tied envelope up top.

There it is
It's the letter you wrote to my boy when you sent him that stool you had made. He was eight months old. 

click to enlarge

I am devastated that he's lost you, Dad. I'm devastated that I've lost you. And my girl, and your girls.

But thanks for helping me reach that top shelf.

Now do me a favor and help mom out with that bathroom, okay? This is bullshit.

I love you.


Me, You, or Ellie said...

Aw Jeez Jacquie.

"Please be a nice happy kid"?

"Sit on it, pile things on it and generally knock it around"?

You're killin' me here.

I love you, and I love that Jidoo and I miss him terribly.

At least I have a stool too. I think I'm the only kid-less one who has one. I demanded Dad give me one. (Okay, "demand" is a strong word. I asked and he said, "Sure.")


p.s. Look at you with your ribbon-tied up baby book! Impressive!

totally gets it in PA said...

Oh Jacquie, I SO wish you didn't have to live this reality.
Sometimes I just wanted to make a t-shirt that says, "be extra nice to me, my mom died" to wear on days like yesterday. Or everyday, for that matter.
Almost 13 years later, I STILL need that shirt.
It's a club no one wants to be in..but letters like the one your dad sent with the stool, will help get you through. These little things become sacred.
I'm sure I'll get a call from my kid's future therapist about the scenes that transpired in their childhood anytime something of "Grandma Wessner's", from a handwritten recipe to the buttun jar, was lost or broken.
It is what it is...

corrected in PA said...

we did not have a "buttun" jar, but we did have her, now broken, Jif "button" jar...and my english/education major mother would want me to correct that.

Mom c said...

Aw Jacquie, I just talked to Julie and now reading this - I'm a blubbering mess all over again, but thanks for demanding that he help me with the bathroom decisions..... I love you mom

MB said...

Aw, Dad. Aw, Jacq. Jimmy's lucky to have that awesome letter. Love you.

julie said...

jacquie, you are making all your sisters cry at work.

Me, You, or Ellie said...

Thanks for noticing the glory of my firstborn's baby book box thing, Ellie. Just don't tell my girl. I think she's got a shoebox...somewhere.

PA, I know what you mean. It's so rude how people expect me to cope, even on bad days.

MB, Julie, Mom, sorry to make you blubber. But if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Sometimes it just feels really good to do the ugly cry.

I miss you people.


Me, You, or Ellie said...

Aw, Jacquie. Aw, Ellie. Aw MB, Julie, Jane, Ann and Mom C...

You all deserve the ugly cry whenever you need it. Just make suer to have the Paris Hilton sunglasses nearby.

Love that hand written letter. Ach.