You know what SUCKS?

Crawling out of my skin. I am trying to stay busy. (work? check. flat tire? check.) But the ishiness follows me. My darling companion (dh just lends itself to too many insults today) has decided to completely check out this year, which is totally awesome for someone like me, who wants to remember and think and talk and remember and process some more and remember.

Every year, I want need to go away. His proposal this year, due to lack of work funds, was that we car-camp on the edge of a mountain in Big Sur. Which would not be a horrible idea or suggestion if:

A) we didn't have a two year old who has great potential for his fantastic capacity for flinging himself of mountains, and I would prefer not to test that skill, and

B) it is absolutely not what I want to be doing (think lots of dirt, pumping up campstoves, pooping in holes and NO ACCESS to water) that weekend.


Pardon me for needing one fucking shred of the pampering, as in running water and a mattress.

My life-saving girlfriends got together and arranged a weekend here. It is actually less than 40 minutes from home, so we will have one night with just The Wimmens. And another night in which we will allow our children (and perhaps husbands) to stay. Ms Boss of Seattle herself, Julia, is even flying down for the event.

I have never stayed there because it is so close, but the irony is that it is located at Elijah's Beach. In fact, they probably call it their own beach, but most of us know better.

I am not sure if this is good or bad. I will wake up on his birthday not at home, but at his beach. Sounds perfect, huh?
But oh-so-loaded, because I make it that way.

If I go to his beach, then I will have all sorts of emotions. Do I want those emotions?
If I go to his beach on his birthday, then I will feel compelled to do something with those ashes.
If I go to Elijah's beach, we need to scatter his ashes because that is where we finally agreed to scatter them. Oh so long ago and then never got around to following through.
(Because really? Thinking and Doing on that one? Whoa. Not even close to the same thing. Even for a virgo like me.)
Do I want to scatter his ashes? No. Do I want to have his ashes in a box at home? Not really. Do I wish I had just one more option? Yes.
(I checked - there are none.)
If the subject of Elijah's ashes comes up, then we will have an argument. About the ashes and what to do with them? No, we covered that series of arguments long ago.
We will have an argument about who should be there. I think Supergirl should be there because she remembers her brother Elijah. She knows he has 'turned to ashes', and well, truthfully, she is interested. I don't think she would be at all scarred by this experience; she already has such a pragmatic perspective on what happened and how she handles her loss.

But I am the only adult in this household who thinks that she should participate in this 'family event'. While I respect that we have different opinions about this, neither opinion has yet trumped the other.

So, on the shelf the box of baby still sits.

The weekend away? Doesn't suck.
The girlfriends? Don't suck.


Arguing is bad enough, but having to have drama over his ashes?



Sucks.