Hey, Chicago area folks, please pass the word around about my sister's condo.  That is how it will get sold in this economy.  Plus, if your tip leads to it being sold, I'll bake you my famous pumpkin cranberry bread!

*********************
My sister recently died, and I am selling her 2 bedroom condo in N. Riverside (intersection of 22nd and Des Plaines).  The building was totally rehabbed and converted to condos right before she bought it in April 2007.  Beautiful hardwood floors, granite countertop, neutral walls and trim, new appliances, new windows.  Laundry room in basement.

http://www.dgillian.illinoisproperty.com/remaxil/modules/agent/agent.asp?p=findahome.asp&selected=mls&listing=true&mlsnumber=7311038&mlsid=271

Selling price is $125,000.  Please contact our agent Dorothy Gillian at 708-386-1400 ext. 124 if you are interested.

Sorry I haven't been here. My emotional energy is at a low point by the time the kids get in bed and all I have brainspace for at that point is a sentence rarely posted to FB or a game of online boggle.

And then it boils down to, what can I say? It's the same stuff day after day. After three deaths in five years, there are few people who want to hear it anymore. Some people actually actively avoid me now because they feel so awkward--and I don't even talk about it with them in the first place, for crying out loud. And thanks to the Zoloft and Wellbutrin, I very rarely cry and am usually quite functional, so it's not like I'm weeping and frightening people.

And honestly. I don't even fucking know what to say. The Zoloft and Wellbutrin make this experience very different than Zach and my mom's death/grieving. I rarely cry, maybe once every 3 weeks. It's like part of my mind goes "this is just so fucking unbelievable, there is no way this really happened, i reject your reality and substitute my own." A vast part of my brain seems to be sticking its fingers in its ears going "la la la, she's not dead, can't hear you, la la la"...while at the same time being totally okay and allowing me to clean out her condo, do all the life insurance policy paperwork, file her will, put her condo on the market, etc. My brain has totally disassociated itself....just a big disconnect between the two sides. I don't know if it is strictly the meds or just survival mechanism after 3 deaths. And it's different than my mom because then I had only Kevin...and now I have Gabriel too. So I can't afford to lose my shit--Auntie Gail isn't here to pick up the slack. Pete and I are all the kids have, so I have to keep it together.

Anger drives me too. Anger at her. Anger at the total pit she let her condo become. Anger at her not filing for my mom's $15,000 life insurance policy or paying my mom's lawyer's final bill. Anger at her total disarray of paperwork so that I can't find the title to her car or several important bank statements. Anger that she didn't let me or Pete help her with her condo, with getting her phone line fixed, with doing the paperwork, etc. Anger that she didn't even ask. Anger that she didn't take care of herself physically. Anger that I found collection notices strewn in her paperwork and that I'm having to clean up those messes--and they were over bills that could have been straightened out and health insurance would have paid them after a simple 2 minute phone call, she had the money, dammit. Anger that now my boys have nothing and that Gabey is too little and he won't have memories of her. Anger that she left his whole mess for me to pick up. Anger that she didn't let me in to her heart. Anger that so many of my family's stories are now lost...gone....and I have so little to share with the boys.  Anger that we gave her a fresh start up here and she totally squandered it. Anger that she was so damned dysfunctional. Anger that Kevin has to go through yet another loss, another pain when not even 7 yet (Sept 11).

No one else will love my children like she did, in the same way I did. No one else wants to hear every piddling detail of their day, no matter how disgusting. At least 4 times I day I find myself thinking "Oh, I gotta call Gail and tell her that Gabey just....oh....shit. Can't." I still carry my house phone around with me in the evenings out of habit, and when I put it away to charge at bedtime, I'm reminded that it wasn't necessary, she won't be calling. I got into celebrity gossip after my mom died so I would have something to talk to Gail about that was light hearted--so now, every time I hear what the Gosselin's are doing or that Kendra Wilkinson is pregnant, my first instinct is to call...and I can't.

I'm still going through papers and stuff. And having to go through stuff of my mom's that Gail didn't go through back when we moved her and she said she would once she got her place. And seeing notes that Mom left for Gail, trying to help her organize things and make sure Gail would be set up if she died.

I just couldn't stomach having a third urn in the house, so I ordered a huge cloissonne urn with red maple leaves all over it and had the funeral home put Mom, Gail, and Zach together in there with a name plaque on a chain. The urn is in the dining room.

Dark humor gets us through it. God, Kevin is going to be so warped. The other day he looked at the urn in the dining room and commented that for the first time ever Grandma and Auntie would be on time for Thanksgiving dinner. *bwahahahaha* That's my boy. :-)

I got rid of my dining room set because it was too painful. We got that in 2000 when we bought this house and needed a table for our first Thanksgiving here. We thought, okay, we need a table that can seat 8--2 for us, 2 for our future kids, 2 seats for Mom and Gail, and 2 for Pete's parents. That never ever happened. I'm using some of the insurance money to redo the dining room and also buy a new set, so that by Thanksgiving it will be a new room, and we can try to start again.

I got my nose pierced and dyed my hair much more red--both things she would have hated and that I didn't do because of her. It's my childish way of getting revenge. :-)

Just gave her car away tonight to a friend who can make good use of it.  I just want the condo to sell and the paperwork to finish so I can try to remake my life again.  *sigh*

Thoughts of Liam, Helen, Bree and so many others whose lives are so ingrained with the attacks on 9/11/01.

Thoughts of my son Kevin's 7th birthday tomorrow (9/1/02).

Hey, I've got a 3 day pass for Lollapalooza that I need to get rid of.  Things have changed since I bought the ticket and now I can really only go on Friday night.  I hope to sell the 3 day and buy a 1 day.  Let me know if you are interested in buying it from me--I'll make you a deal!

Sorry I haven't been back to post more information.  I just haven't had the energy/time/strength to write.  So, forgive me while I copy what someone else wrote for me on a board we belong to and I'll just add notes:

"Gail hadn't been feeling well for a few days and on Sunday (July 5th) went to urgent care and was diagnosed with pneumonia (and given antibiotics and an inhaler).  (On July 6th Pete, me and the kids went on vacation to MIchigan City, IN, about an hour and a half away.  Gail told us to go ahead and go, she had her meds and she couldn't be around us or the boys because she was contagious.  She was supposed to be coming over to our house once we left to cat sit.)  She continued to not feel well and ended up calling 911 (on the afternoon of July 8th) because she had passed out a few times (she called me on my cell at the farm we were at to tell me this...and that she it had taken her an hour to call 911 because she had crawled from her bathroom to the door of her condo unit so she could open it and yell up to the teenager upstairs to open the door to the condo building so that the paramedics wouldn't bust it down....and since she kept passing out it took an hour.  My cell phone coverage was awful and when the paramedics arrived they didn't know where they would take her.  I waited 45 minutes and then started calling around....it took me over an hour to find her.  She called me once from the ER to tell me she was doing okay and that they wanted to make sure she didn't have blood clots in her lungs like she had two years ago, but that they thought not.  She told me she'd probably be admitted and be there for several days, and then a nurse came in and she had to go.  We decided to feed, bathe, and put the kids to bed.  I kept waiting to hear from the ER while we were doing that, they didn't call, so I called them at 8:45 once the kids were asleep.  They told me she was having a procedure done and to call back in 20 minutes.) . In the ER, apparently her oxygen level was good, (the xray was good, the CAT scan came back fine and they decided to do a 3rd less common test where the patient inhales radioactive dye and it helps them to see oxygen flow. As they were doing this test, Gail passed away.  (When Steph called back twenty minutes later like they said)  a doctor spoke to her and literally out of the blue told Stephanie that as she was getting that oxygen test done, Gail died. No lead in, no hint in her voice that this was coming. How horrible!

Stephanie and Pete woke up Kevin and told him and packed up their car, woke up Gabe and drove home, arriving back at 2:30am that morning. Kevin, understandably, was upset about his Auntie Gail and also upset that their much planned vacation had changed.

Steph is overwhelmed obviously, by the sheer depth of losses that have occured in her life over the past few years and the fact that she did not want to have 3 urns lined up on a shelf in her house. The funeral director is going to mix the ashes of Zach, her mom and her sister (and put them all together in a big cloissone urn with maple leaves on it.

Gail had a 2 bedroom condo with an enormous amount of stuff in it- no boxes were unpacked from when she moved in 27 months ago and she also has been collecting all sorts of papers,coupons, etc, so there is a small path to walk through the entire apartment. Steph and Pete have to face cleaning out the condo and getting it on the market. They will work with the same realtor who helped them buy the apt for Gail. "

********

And then Gabe's second birthday was July 10th.

They found a massive blood clot in a major artery in her lungs.  Our doctor said that due to the size and location there was nothing they could have done to save her if they had noticed it even a few hours earlier.

I swear to God if my sister weren't already dead, I'd have to kill her (no matter how much I love her). Cleaning out the 27 months worth of every piece of paper/mail and cardboard food box she ever got her hands on plus every grocery shopping bag nearly killed me and my best friends (took two nights with 3 people working). It was a total pit over there with an 9 inch wide path winding through it--she never let me come over after she moved in.   Pete and I have spent hours on the phone tracking down bills and life insurance policies (finding out she never cashed my mom's life insurance policies or finished paying her lawyer).  We are sorting through billions of papers and bills and records trying to find what we need.  The only that has been easy is that right after my mom died my sister wrote a will, made me executor, and put me on all her bank accounts.

Those of you who know me, know that July (despite Gabey's bday) is a hard month for me.  Zach would have been 5 next Friday.

At this point my mind is so overloaded by all of this that I am firmly in the "this is too surreal, so I'm going to do all the stuff that has to be done, but my emotions are going to be locked away because this didn't happen" place.  Hurrah for the brain and it's self protective mechanisms.  Oh, and hurrah for Wellbutrin with a touch of Zoloft--I didn't have those when Zach and Mom died.   Everytime I make some silly limit for myself, life makes me push through that limit and explode that myth.  Can't go into a funeral home again, hah.  Can't touch another dead body, hah.  Can't explain the death of a close family member to my children again, hah.  Can't deal with the terrible twos and grief again, hah.  Can't spend another hour on the phone chasing down paper trails, explaining this over and over, hah.  My grief counselor and parenting counselor hardly know what to say.  I haven't gotten many sympathy cards, because there aren't any that say "Dear God, again???"  There is no one left in my family now.  And I'm only 36.

We did manage to pull off a good birthday for Gabey.  I'll try to post a pic.  And he and Kevin have a joint big party next week.  We've been trying to minimize the impact on the kids as much as possible.  But at least 10 times a day Gabey asks for "Auntie" and I don't know what to say other than "Yes, we miss her."  I haven't told him yet because I just don't even know what to say.  Kevin is doing mostly okay.  *sigh*  We're going to try to go on a short vacation next month to help the kids.

Me.  I'm here.  Putting one foot in front of the other, doing what needs to be done, swearing at the urn in the dining room a lot, and hitting a wall (metaphorically speaking) every once in a while.  I don't really have any other choice, now do I?  Bless our friends A&T (sorry, no brains for lj tags) for babysitting and helping with the physical mess.  Tons more to go--we haven't even gotten into her boxes yet.

I just don't know what to believe or think anymore.

My sister is dead.  I am on vacation. I can't take this.

1. Your Middle Name:
2. Age:
3. Single or Taken:
4. Favourite Movie:
5. Favourite Song or Album:
6. Favourite Band/Artist:
7. Dirty or Clean:
8. Tattoos and/or Piercings:
9. Do we know each other outside of LJ?
10. What's your philosophy on life?
11. Is the bottle half-full or half-empty?
12. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?
13. What is your favourite memory of us?
14. What is your favourite guilty pleasure?
15. Tell me one odd/interesting fact about you:
16. You can have three wishes (for yourself, so forget all the 'world peace etc' malarky) - what are they?
17. Can we get together and make a cake?
18. Which country is your spiritual home?
19. What is your big weakness?
20. Do you think I'm a good person?
21. What was your best/favourite subject at school?
22. Describe your accent
23. If you could change anything about me, would you?
24. What do you wear to sleep?
25. Trousers or skirts?
26. Cigarettes or alcohol?
27. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together? (If you have no idea, just say something crazy, it'll entertain me!)
28. Will you repost this so i can fill it out for you?

Random weird thought (yah, I know I never post but I'm trying to get back into by warming myself up over on Facebook):

Am I the only one who hates the phrase "screamed like a little girl?"  I know in some ways it is referring to a male shrieking and it being so high pitched that it sounds feminine.  But still...to me it wraps in connotations of someone being weak/a scaredy cat/etc...and links it with the concept of "girl."  I find it just as offensive as "pitches like a girl."  And I make sure I don't say it to my kids.

Pete said it today and I discussed it with him tonight.  He hadn't thought of it in that way.  I'm curious if I'm the only one who thinks of it in that way.

Regarding presents for my kids--no need. Seriously. A card, a handmade picture, an promise of a playdate. Cookies or bread. A picture of legos or Star Wars or Lego Star Wars cut out of a magazine.

Step One
Make a post (public, friends-locked, filtered...whatever you're comfortable with) to your LJ. The post should contain your list of 10 holiday wishes. The wishes can be anything at all, from simple and fandom-related ("I'd love an icon of 'X' that's just for me") to medium ("I wish for _____ on DVD") to really big ("All I want for Christmas is a new car/computer/house/TV.") The important thing is, make sure these wishes are things you really, truly want.

If you wish for real life things, make sure you include some sort of contact info in your post, whether it's your address or just your email address where Santa (or one of his elves) could get in touch with you. Also, make sure you post some version of these guidelines in your LJ, or link to this post (it'll be public) so that the holiday joy will spread.

Step Two
Surf around your friendslist (or friendsfriends, or just random journals) to see who has posted their list. And now here's the important part:

If you see a wish you can grant, and it's in your heart to do so, make someone's wish come true. Sometimes someone's trash is another's treasure, and if you have a leather jacket you don't want or a gift certificate you won't use--or even know where you could get someone's dream purebred Basset Hound for free--do it. You needn't spend money on these wishes unless you want to. The point isn't to put people out, it's to provide everyone a chance to be someone else's holiday elf--to spread the joy. Gifts can be made anonymously or not--it's your call.

There are no rules with this project, no guarantees, and no strings attached. Just...wish, and it might come true. Give, and you might receive. And you'll have the joy of knowing you made someone's holiday special.

My Wishlist

My wish for this year is that my friends don't spend money on me for Xmas. Seriously. And that they don't feel obligated to make me anything or get me anything period.

If you are making cookies/bread or something and want to give me some, fine. A nice holiday card is sufficient as well. Or a holiday email. A promise to hang out sometime soon (with or without kids)--I'm dying for some adult company.

Quick memo to self. Gabey now signs:

cat
dog
more
eat
banana
finish
book
bath

And now the Macbook won't even power on. ARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH.

Fyi, my return key and some of my other keys are suddenly dead, so i can't instant message because i can't get it to send messages. arghhhhh

Today I remember my dear baby Zachary.

I remember
Nathan
Heaven
Neveah
Zachary across the street
Nazir
Alexa
Coral Rose
Mary Rose
Freddie
Victor
Ryland
Grace Olivia
Arawyn
Seth
Luke
Abdullah
Grace
Babylove
Kim's babies 1-4
Julianna
Stella
Bella
Conner
Frank James
Galadriel
Jordyn & Anika
Reagan Claire
Grace
Adia
Nicholas & Zachary
Luke & Ben

and so many others

My candles burn for you.

http://www.october15th.com/

Unbelievably, today my fellow mother in grief Lynn suffered her third loss of a child, Anton, at 29 weeks.

Fuck you universe, fucking fuck you to hell. How dare you!!!

Lynn, Mark, Anton, may you feel the MOA aunties' love flowing to you. Anton, may your passage into this world for your brief stay here be smooth. You join your sister Coral and baby sibling 2 somewhere today. May your dear face be kissed by mommy and daddy and grandma. May you feel their warm hugs and bless them with your beauty. Hold their hearts together with your perfection.

ra ma da sa sa say so hung

Thanks for the well wishes.

Monday afternoon, Gabey skipped his second nap, so he was a bit wobbly. My sister had come over to babysit a few hours earlier while I took Kevin to karate. After we got back from karate, I got us all fed and then was going to leave G with my sister while I ran Kevin to magic class.

Just a few minutes before we were ready to leave at 6:15 pm, Gabey was walking around the room. Suddenly he lost his balance and fell, hitting his head on the bottom shelf of a bookcase. Now, Gabey falls all the time. But this time there was no immediate scream/cry. There was that sickening silence that lets you know your child is having to wind up for the gut wrenching shriek that indicates something really bad.

My sister got to him first, picked him up, and turned him over. The blood was shooting out of his forehead in huge spurts, splattering all down his face and the floor. We grabbed Kleenex and yelled for Kevin to run and get paper towels. After wiping him up, it became clear there was one injury--a deep gash in his forehead that was still jettisoning blood. I sat with him on my lap applying firm pressure while he looked down the window (the only way to calm him down so he would stop trying to yank the paper towel away). I was afraid to look at the wound. I had a feeling.

Finally I took a look. It was a vertical gash right at the midline of his forehead. It looked like when you have an overripe tomato and drop it--narrow at the ends, gaping split in the middle with the edges splayed outwards. And still bleeding. I had my sister call Pete--and luckily he had just gotten off the El and was walking up the block. I was pretty sure we were headed for the ER. When he got home Pete agreed that we probably should--we also called our doctor's office. They said ER. We debated where to go--the local hospital where I had Kevin and Zach and who I hate with a passion (West Suburban Hospital), Loyala Hospital (about a 20 minute drive), or downtown Chicago to Children's Memorial Hospital. My immediate reaction was to not want to go to West Sub, but at the same time I worried it was just my experience with Zach that was clouding my decision. It was rush hour time, so it would take a while to get to downtown Chicago. And wasn't it overkill to go to CMH just for a few stitches? We thought about Loyola, but when my sister had her pulmonary embolisms, they were so busy they diverted the ambulance. We decided to go to the local hospital, West Sub so that we could get in and get out. HAHAHAHAHHAHHA. We left Kevin with my sister and asked her to put him to bed.

Ok, gotta go get Kevin from school. Part 2 later.

14 months old

7 hours in 3 different hospital ERs

3 stitches

2 exhausted parents, 1 exhausted baby