Archive for the ‘Grief’ Category


In which we wish a happy birthday

October 4, 2012

Hello, everyone, Becky here.

Today is Turquoise/Violet’s birthday. To mark the occasion, I am posting the link to a PDF that contains all the wonderful remembrances you were so kind to send; a copy of the memorial program, copies of all of the readings, and the wonderful eulogy that Don Wood wrote and delivered.

Please let me know if you sent a remembrance and it is missing in the online copy; I will remedy any mistakes that I inadvertently made.

A note to those who could not attend the memorial; an unexpected freeway closure kept several people from making it to the service, including Melitta, the officiant. She made it to the gathering afterwards and made her remarks there; it was nice since there were quite a few people that were similarly delayed, so they got to experience a bit of the service, too. I am remiss in not asking Melissa for a copy of her remarks; I will try to get them.

Here is the link to the downloadable PDF. (caution, large file)

Thanks, and I hope you are celebrating our wonderful friend in your own way today.


In which we say goodbye

May 30, 2012


Turquoise, also known as Violet. Lost to us May 29, 2012. Here she is, always the life of the party, in 2007.

Hello, this is Becky writing, a friend of Turquoise/Violet. With the permission of her brother, I am posting an update here.

As most everyone knows by now, our dear girl passed on yesterday — Tuesday, May 29 — at dawn. She waged a long and brave war with cancer, outliving her diagnosis by an impressive amount of time. She was at home, surrounded by family, music, peace — and, of course, her fierce and faithful cat, Kong.

There is not much I can add that hasn’t been said here in the comments, or on Facebook, or on blogs, or in person. She was a sweet, complex, beautiful star and we’ll miss her forever.

Her family would like to let you know there will be a memorial in approximately one month, in Ventura County. I will post details as soon as they get finalized.

If you have any questions, please email me and I can put you in touch with her brother.

Love to all, Becky (aka hambox)


In which things shake out

May 4, 2012

So, after some really intense fighting yesterday, I think things have shaken out a bit.

For which I am grateful.

I have never embraced the pink bracelet culture of cancer fighters. It just didn’t really jibe with my vision, or whatever. But my friend Mickey came down to visit, giving me a pink rubber bracelet like the one she was wearing. It reads, Cancer Sucks, and I was like, Yeah. Pretty much. So I’m now wearing the bracelet in her honor.

And this arrived:


So that’s a big plus. Things are looking up.

Today is better than yesterday. Let’s hope that’s a continuing trend.


In which I hit a new low

May 3, 2012

Fuck. I have been trying to keep it together but of course, today, my mother frustrated me so much that I lost it and ended up yelling and now she is sulking in the kitchen, yes, sulking. Because I “used exasperation” in my tone in dealing with a stupid conversation. She is like a dog with a bone. She gets in there and really gets her teeth into a subject of acute stupidity and won’t let it go.

In this case, the turning point of the case rested on the idea that she needed exacting directions to drive to a certain pharmacy to pick up a prescription I did not ask her to refill. The driving directions, and this is in the days of gps, amounted to “take the exit, then turn left on the next street, which is clearly marked.”

She turned it into such a clusterfuck of idiocy, like, but what lane will I need to be in??? that I finally lost my shit and started sobbing and she was all, well, you’re using exasperation on me and I have trouble navigating your unfrozen cave man roads, so you should be kinder to me.

That she has been to this pharmacy before made no difference. That she can navigate these roads all day long if she’s going to the healing rooms, is of no consequence. I used exasperation, and I think we can all see that that is the major crime, here. My evil failure to acknowledge her intermittently crippling Traffic Anxiety.

And so I am back to my drugs, and she is sulking in the next room because look how much she has done for me and I don’t appreciate it.

Here is the ovoid face today:


You want to see what cancer looks like? It looks like that. A stupid argument and a lot of rage and since I can’t get up and grovel in the next room, some frosty silence until She decides to forgive me.

Trust me, this is the ugliest side of the disease, when politeness has been smashed into bits and the real feelings come through. And it is inevitable that they do. And I hate every second of it. Every motherfucking second.


In which there’s a break in communication

April 25, 2012

I awoke with this joke in my head:

Q: What do you call half a Soviet news agency?

A: Demitasse.

It is not the kind of joke you can tell nowadays. Not because it’s inappropriate, but because it’s irrelevant. And it wasn’t that funny to begin with.


In which there is intensive care

April 18, 2012

Hi, there. Violet here. Forgive all odd spellings and syntax.

I’m in the icu at the hospital and rationing water for for four hours, relegated to a bedpan when needed. No, I don’t particularly want visits, I don’t mean to sound harsh. Nor phone calls. I’m covered with monitors and bloody IVs.

I’ve decided to discontinue chemo. It didn’t do anything. It made me sick. This discontinuation creates more conversation I don’t care about. I tune it out. I don’t want a walker. Where would I go?

And besides all the paperwork, the Medicare, the money, which I must somehow pay, there’s the question of me. What’s going to happen to me? Physically. It’s weird. Do I get another summer? Do I get to revisit the beach house of my childhood summers? Do I drag on for months? Is there another Christmas? What about Paris? What about Kong? What about my family?

Sorry. I don’t want to to hear from you. I can’t answer questions. I have no sense of humor. I glad your aunt Gladys kicked this disease but I also don’t care.



In which I am annoyed

April 17, 2012

I have been having a couple of of shitty, would not wish on anyone days

This afternoon, over the sound of Martha Stewart, I heard my mom discussing various names in conjunction with mine. I became suspicious. “what’s happening??” I asked, and after a melee of noise, detetermined that a minister was coming by. “What nationality is is he?” I asked, meaning denomination. “Muslim,” my mother answered, which is when I lost my shit. “I have no sense of humor. You can’t be fucking with me!!” Evangelical Baptist is the the real answer. Essentially the opposite of everything I believe.

Supposedly I agreed to this meeting yesterday. My fever was over 103.3 yesterday. I dont think I can be held to anything. I don’t know.

I don’t know what this conversation will will entail, especially if she sits on the the sofa, prissilly overseeing the proceedings.

Fuck this shit.