You all are going to be very disappointed in my decision.

But it is what is right for me right now. And hopefully right for my family.

We are back. Staying with my mom right now. Fixing the house up. Working. I think I'm ok with the decision. I don't think Royce is. There were lots of reasons. In order to stay, I had to sell the house. Soon. Its not ready to be sold, and I'm not ready to sell it. There were lots of financial reasons. And my mom.

Have to work tonight. Maybe I will write at work if it isn't as busy as it was last night. Babies dropping everywhere.

Mike - I really need to talk to you. If you read this, please contact me. Please email me. I did try to call you. There is something I really need to talk about. If I call you, please talk to me. It is important. I hope you are reading this.

All I can do is work alot and try to give Royce all the other things he wants. I feel its the only other thing I can do other than sell my house.

At the internet cafe. I love Mill Avenue. I could so just become one of the fixures here. I'm so ok here. Even just driving through or spending a little time here helps.

Been doing more meditation lately. Even if its just for a few minutes. And have gotten back on a healthy living plan.

I would love to hear from all and any of you out there.

Need to learn how to breathe in the midst of caos.

Its 8:59 pm.

Gonna go watch Grey's Anatomy with Creative Soul.

I'm a Grey's virgin. We'll see if I like the show.

Its the season premiere.

Spent a few hours in the ed last night again. Blood Pressure.

Nice to be in home just watching tv.

Undecided again.

I think maybe I have found a way to compromise.

Compromise is good.

Sometimes you just have to sit back a moment.......and breathe.

I decided to call my mom and ask her. After talking with her I made the decision. We are moving. Probably at the end of October.

Royce needs to go to school in Phx.
We need a place for Shadow.
The kids want to go to school down there. I may even send the girls back to Tempe if I can afford it.
I can't make two house/rent payments, and I'm not ready to sell. Not even sure I could get another house.

And my mom needs me. She needs us. She told me never to make the decision based on her, that she will be fine. She in no way asked me to do this. But I can tell. I feel like I am abandoning her if I am not there. I feel like she adopted me, gave me a good life, and now when she needs someone, I leave. I have to go back.

I have to just think of the time up here as an extended vacation.
Maybe someday.
But right now I gotta go back home.
I have to listen to my heart, and this is what it is saying.

Glassford Hill.

Apparently that is the name of my "mountain". Its pretty much the mountain that in in-between Prescott and Prescott Valley. Our apartment is on top of it. The apartments and the Kia dealership are pretty much the only things on it. The past few times we have driven past it on our way home we have seen antelope on it. We can see the whole valley from it. It is quiet, and beautiful and safe.

I took the kids to school this morning. I looked at the schools. Really looked at them. They are so nice. The kids are good there. I keep thinking about what the schools look like back in Phoenix. There is no comparison. These schools are surrounded by mountains, and flowers, and clean air, and beautiful views, and are such nice schools.

I took a little drive. There are so many beautiful places up here. Its so hard to think about picking one place to live. Its just a beautiful, wonderful place to have a family in. No more traffic, or trashy places, or broken down neighborhood, or crime. No more heat. The people are nicer here. Its just a wonderful place. I don't think I can take my children away from here. I think about spending the holidays here. I think about the apartment. I love my new place.

Last night the girls told me they don't want to move, and they don't want to move back to Phoenix. I know Tyler doesn't want to. They have already made friends here, and they told me they love the apartment and their room. And I think about raising the little ones here, Ryan and Cheyenne, this is really all they will remember. That would be a good thing.

I listen to that song alot. Hate me. Blue October. The words seem to set me straight. I usually get very used to a song after I listen to it alot, and it therefore fails to have the same effect on me. But this one is different. Everytime I hear the words, they cut. Still.

There's a burning in my pride,
a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you.
will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me
just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me?
it is I that wanted space

Hate me today, Hate me tomorrow, Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you

The song shook me before my dad was even sick. Now there are new meanings, with the old ones. It always hits me so hard. I was listening to it this morning while I was driving around.

The funny thing is, all this happened, all I've written about here, before I read any of your comments. I came home this morning, and logged on and read them.

It did occur to me that maybe my mom doesn't WANT us living behind her again. Maybe she wants her space, her privacy. Maybe she doesn't want kids over there all the time. We can't ever seem to be around each other for any amount of time without fighting. Neither of us needs that.

Its the simple things, sometimes, that speak to me. The other day we were there for just the day. Royce went over to the house to fix windows, the kids went to kirk's, and the little ones stayed and played, and I slept - I had worked the night before. At 6 pm a movie came on the tv. It is one I have wanted to see for a long time. "Under the Tuscan Sun". A beautiful, spiritual movie about a soul that finds its place. Unexpectedly. All my mom did during this movie was to keep asking me how I could sit for hours and watch a movie. Don't I have things to do? Don't I need to get back up the mountain and get the kids ready for school? How could I just sit and waste time? I sat. And I watched it in its entirety. With kids interruption, with mom's interruptions, with noise in the house. And I liked it very much.

I think I do know in my heart what I need to do. CreativeSoul, I thought about what you said. If she isn't asking me to come back, maybe I am just doing it for me. Maybe I do just need to breathe.............breathe. I very much appreciate your comments, CreativeSoul and Trailady. I think maybe I am jumping because of the emotionally charged situation. And my children need to come first. I think I already know what I need to do. Thank you, all of you, Shelli and Creativesoul and Trailady, for all of your comments. I have read and reread them, and am keeping your words inside me.

I think we are staying.

Trailady, I don't know what to think about life after death. I know what I was raised to believe, but I have a hard time thinking I will ever see my dad again. He is gone. I can't believe in something simply because it comforts me. I can't form a belief system to live by because the unknown is unacceptable. Because it makes me feel better. It has to be more real to me than that. Thank you for your words. I have found myself thinking more about god since my dad's death. I have never let go of the thought that he exists. I just don't feel he is what I was taught he is. I would love to believe that I will see my dad again. But I don't think I will.

I made an arrangement with God a few weeks ago. I agreed to keep talking to him. In the midst of everything else I do, or believe, or experiment with, or try, or how deep I go. I told him I would make a deal. I would keep talking to him. Whether he is really there, or listens is the 500 question, now isn't it?

Here's my dilemma. Maybe it will help to write about it. Maybe if some of you could give me some feedback.

I feel like we need to move back down to Phoenix. Royce wants to go to school there, County is offering me insurance now as float pool, and I think my mom really needs us down there. I think us being there, the kids being there alot will directly affect how well and happy she is. I think it will make a world of difference to have the kids, especially Ryan, over to see her on a daily basis, watching tv with her, hanging out at the house, her fixing food from time to time. Me visiting her. And if something goes wrong at her house, she gets a flat tire, she gets sick, something breaks at the house, then we are there. I feel like I need to be down close to her to be a good daughter. I feel it will directly affect her health. I don't feel she will be ok in that house all by herself everyday and everynight. And the kids will have a yard again. And I will be in my house again. Or we could try to rent a really nice apartment close to her, and sell the house. I can't make two house payments. So if I'm not living in it I need to sell it. I have mixed feelings about selling it.

On the other hand, I feel like Prescott is a better place for the kids. It is safer, and nicer, and the apartment we have now is so much nicer than the house. None of us want to live next to Teresa again. And the house is so bad, it needs so much work. It needs carpet, and painted, and the bathroom fixed, and exterminated. So much work before I will move my kids back in there. It can be done though, and I'm sure we could ignore Teresa once again. The house could be fixed up really nice if we set our minds to it. And we would be back home again. There was so much I was moving away from. I'm not thrilled with the schools by our house. And the neighborhood is not good. But it is home.

I feel like moving back into the house is the easiest thing. Royce can go to school without an hour and a half drive commute each way, we will be by my mom, and it is my house that I own. And everyone will be ok with moving back except Tyler and Royce. Tyler wants a nice apartment in Phx. And Royce is willing to move back in order to go to school. But I'm not sure moving back is best for the kids. We both felt the energy so strong to move here. That it was the right thing. But now my dad is gone, and I feel we need to be back there.

I am torn. Leaning toward moving. I'm know that what is really important is not the physical house, but the home that we create. Maybe this is what I should focus on. And try to do the right thing.

I think we are moving back. But I don't want to leave this beautiful place. I just wish I could decide for sure.

Gonna go lay by my Roycie. Its 4 am.
Maybe one more glass of wine.
Royce is my security net. Like the net underneath all those acrobats.

Do my crazy stuff. Be me.....

Then fall.

Safely.

My hair is long enough to sit on again.

Its black again.

Thats how I feel right now. Black. Damn, its hard to type after a few glasses of cheap wine. Black. I'm sitting in front of the computer. Everyone else is asleep. Just had mind-bending, soul-searching, naked, gut-renching, beautiful, soul naked sex. Its been so long since we have done that. So often, under the pressure of life, under all of my hurt and issues, and responsibilities, and everything, we fade. Something so wonderful fades. But then, like tonight, we find it again. And no matter how it fades sometimes, we are reassured that that is all that has happened. Fading. The true colors are there, under everything. Keeping everything together, like glue, whether we know it or not. Knowing it on nights like this. Royce wants nights like this every night. He is such a utopianist. Is that a word? Sometimes I think he deserves so much better. He deserves Angelina Jolie. Carmen Electra. Beyonce. The beautiful, sensual, sex goddess of his dreams. A man with his heart and soul deserves at least that. And he has me. Can you hear me laughing?

Kirk, I know you read this. This is my little part of the world where I am open, and I am just me. Not that you would recognize that. Just so you know, I know you come here. You are welcome here, like everyone else. This is a blank slate. A naked forum. If you want updates on the kids you can call me. You don't come here for updates. If you wanted to know me, really know me, you should have done it in the ten years that I was there. The ten years that I gave you three children. The ten years I would have done anything for you. Your loss. For whatever purpose this serves to you - knock yourself out. But I know you are here.

Enough said.

I am finding myself sucked into darkness. Not on an everyday level. People around me would never see it. But on an internal level. I guess it is everyday - if I strip down to that naked part. So often I am just working, momming, wifing. Life-ing. And underneath is darkness. Different now. Darker. I always felt darkness. But I feel it differently now. I knew after my dad died it would be like this. Going to the dark side. I think of the Emperor beckoning Luke to do this very thing. And I, unlike him, weaker than him, succomb to the call. It feels like home to me.

Things that scared me before - don't now.

My dad's death feels like a baptism to me. After he took his last breath, I feel as if I finally dissolve to darkness. I feel like I have finally voluntarily been emersed under the black water. Baptized. It is so ludicris. My dad, the saint, the best man I ever knew, the perfect character of Jesus, the closest I ever knew to be like Christ. And his death is what puts me over the edge. Not my issues, not what happened to Tyler. But my dad.

I don't even feel loss for what I used to believe anymore. I just feel comfort in everything that I was told was evil.

Naked. I'm sorry I am so naked right now. I just need to write.

I have these morbid, dark, grotesque underlying thoughts. They stay with me. I keep thinking about my dad. Right now. Seriously - what he is like right now. A week ago Friday was the last time I saw him. Before the funeral. In that creepy, little, quiet, morbid room where the family can view the body in private before the funeral. He was lying there. In the casket. I didn't really expect it to look like him. But my mom was so traumatized by how he looked. She was beside herself at how it didn't really look like him. I remember standing there, at the coffin. Looking at his body. His weird mouth. Touching his cold cold hands. Kissing his hard, cold forehead. I left lipsick marks on his forehead. Peggy told me so. I cry now. I haven't really cried since then. In some ways it wasn't really hard, because it wasn't him. I've never really had someone die, that I saw afterward. That I touched afterward. Its funny how their soul is just gone. Its not them lying there. And yet it is their body.

I think about Anne. Six feet under. With her baby. What does she look like now?

I keep thinking about his body. Is it decomposing? How long will it take for that to happen? What does he look like, and feel like in the casket right now? In a week? In a month? In a year? The literal way that his physical self looks - at all those times? I keep seeing a corpse. A thin, guant, lifeless, bloodless, embalmed, cold version of my wonderful dad. I keep seeing rotting flesh. The church jacket and tie and pants that my mom buried him in getting thinner and smaller in his physical decomposition. I keep seeing things very literal and physical. Maybe because I am a nurse, and see these things alot. I just keep seeing him, that weird look on his dead face, his body, - in the coffin. I keep seeing him six feet under, under all the earth. Cold. Alone. Hard.

My mind just seems to keep coming back to these images.

What is wrong with me? Do other people do this?

Eight ounces of cheap cabernet sucked down in seconds - I'm sure won't feel good in about 5 hours, but helps me write. Helps me exist right now. Helps me sleep.

And may I quote Anne Rice:
"And he was a living corpse. Nothing animated his sunken body but a fierce will: hence, his eyes for their gleam were all the more sunken in his skull, and his lips in their trembling made his old yellowed mouth more horrible. I sat at the foot of the bed, and, suffering to see him so, I gave him my hand. I cannot tell you how much his appearance had shaken me. For when I bring death, it is swift and consciousless, leaving the victim as if in enchanted sleep. But this was the slow decay, the body refusing to surrender to the vampire of time which had sucked upon it for years on end."

The Vampire of Time: Parkinsons.

I read of the little girl. The little girl by her dead mother. Who Louis takes, more from hunger than from want. And I see Lestat take the corpse --------- and dance. And see the little girl sucked of her life blood, and tossed alongside her mother.

These things used to scare me. Now its a kind of sinking comfort. I would never have had a book like that in my house - before. I would never have been comfortable with it in the place that I sleep. Now, it is kept safely in my purse. Kept where I can get to it at any spare moment.

Now that THAT god does not exist - I sink, ------ comfortably.

Reading is now fulfilling the drive that alcohol once ruled.

Willing Suspension Of Disbelief is now my escape. My high. My deep sleep and comfort that vodka intoxication used to provide.

Wine and brandy are still my friends. Now they are just comfortable. Not a drive.

I think of you all. Robin, Valerie, Loida, Deb, Heather, Nikki, Trailady, Shelli, Cathy. My Roycie.

Love you all.

Just started "The Vampire Chronicles" by Anne Rice.

"Interview with the Vampire", "The Vampire Lestat", and "Queen of the Damned".

Just started the first one. It really sucks you in - no pun intended.

I've never read anything by Anne Rice. I'm liking it alot though. And I never saw the movie either. The one with stupid Tom Cruise in it. But I'm sure I will after I read the book. Mr. Brad makes up for the idiot. And maybe in my willing suspension of disbelief during the film I can get past my personal revulsion for Tom.

I'm making a commitment to read more. Some everyday, no matter what, even if it is just a page or two. I remember when Cathy told me to try Barnes and Noble instead of some of my other vices. Still like my vices, but I'm wanting to read alot more. Royce just got a book by Somerset Marm. Did I spell that right? Might have to get that one too. I always get so ahead of myself when I start reading. Sometimes even start a book before I've finished another. I hate that.

There is so so much out there. So much. I have this great desire to open myself up to so much in the world. And I still need to internalize. Reading is the perfect dance of both of those.

One question - can someone who saw the movie tell me which character Tom plays, and which one Brad plays? Is Tom Lestat? Or Louis? Who is Brad? And were there homosexual undercurrents in the film too? Just curious.

Wedding Anniversary

Ed was in trouble. He forgot his wedding anniversary. His wife was really angry. She told him "Tomorrow morning, I expect to find a gift in the driveway that goes from 0 to 200 in 6 seconds AND IT BETTER BE THERE".

The next morning Ed got up early and left for work. When his wife woke up, she looked out the window and sure enough there was a small box gift-wrapped in the middle of the driveway.

Confused, the wife put on her robe and ran out to the driveway, brought the box back in the house. She opened it and found a brand new bathroom scale.

Funeral services for Ed have been scheduled for Friday.

Nikki, thank you so much for the beautiful flowers. They got to the service on time, I just haven't written since then. But I wanted to thank you for them. They really meant alot, and were really beautiful. I took them home afterward. I loved the sunflowers. Please tell your mom and brother thanks too. Hope you mom is good.

Just don't feel like writing yet.

I just got done typing up my dad's eulogy. I wrote it and am reading it tomorrow at the funeral. I'm a little scared that I won't get through it gracefully, but I think I owe it to my dad to read it. I will post it on here after tomorrow.

The funeral is Friday, tomorrow, and is going to be at Resthaven Park located at 43rd Street and Southern in Phoenix. Visitation is from 10 am until 11 am and the service will start at 11. It is going to be a simple service inside the chapel there, and then we will go out to the gravesite. All are welcome to come if you can. My mom thinks that only a few people will come, but I think she is mistaken. It will be a closed casket. Peggy has arranged for a harpist to come and play. That should be nice.

The obituary was in the Arizona Republic yesterday Sept. 6. Here is a link to it:
http://www.legacy.com/azcentral/Obituaries.asp?Page=SearchResults
You will need to change the date to Sept. 6. Just scroll down to Megale.


There is a webpage you can go to that the mortuary set up for us.

It is www.mem.com

Type in "Megale" for the last name, and Robert Megale will come up, then just click on his name or picture. It has a biography and a movie. The movie is a collection of pictures that Peggy and I picked out the other night. They make me cry. Especially the one when I am about 4, and he is holding me in the yard.

Royce and the kids are coming down tonight, should be here in a few hours. It will be good to see them, I haven't seen them for like 4 days. I miss them.

I just want tomorrow to be over.

My dad died last night at about 10:45.

Peggy was there with him. My mom and I had left. I was there at about 10, 45 minutes earlier. My mom said she was staying the night, so I decided to go. I put my hand on his chest, I said I love you dad, and I took his hand in mine. Then I left. Apparently after I left, she decided to go home and get some rest. I think because Peggy assured her she would be there till about 3, and my mom had been there for 17 hours. Before I left I told both of them that I would stay all night the next night. But my mom and I both left.

When I first got there last night, I had planned on staying all night. The kids and Royce dropped me off at Hospice. I said good bye and they drove off. My girls have pink eye and fevers. After I watched them all drive away, I had this overwhelming feeling that I should be with them. So about 20 minutes later, I called Tyler's cell phone and told them to turn around and come get me. My dad seemed stable, breathing wasn't eratic, he actually looked better than yesterday, when I did stay all night because he looked so bad. So they came back, and I left to go back to Prescott for 1 night. On the way up the hill to Sunset Point Peggy called me.

After my mom and I left, the nurses turned him. He apparently didn't tolerate this very well, and soon after he took his last breath. Peggy was there when he took his last breath. And Kristi, his nurse. I feel bad that I wasn't there, that I had been there 45 minutes before, but I know that it doesn't really make a difference, and maybe there is a reason that it was good that I wasn't there. Either way, I guess it doesn't really matter.

Yesterday morning, when I stayed all night, my mom got there about 5 am. We hadn't talked for a week. The last thing she had said to me was to leave. She told me to go away. Now she started crying and told me she needed help. That she couldn't do all this stuff afterward by herself. She said she knew I was mad. I told her I wasn't mad. That is all I said. All I wanted at that point was to sit by my dad. I have no excess energy at this point. Not any for anger, not any for grudges, not any for issues. Only for sadness. I'm not angry with her. But she kept crying, and told me she needed help.

I'm just glad its over. Enough was enough. He looked so bad.

I'm a little angry, because people can't respect our wishes. Apparently yesterday they announced my dad's condition in church. Yesterday afternoon, when I was planning on visiting, Liz showed up at Hospice, even though we had asked for no visitors, repeatedly. Liz was very unkind to me in the past. She was the reason I originally quit going to church, she was very mean to me when I was pregnant with Ryan. She let me know, at church one week, how sinful I was for getting pregnant, and how I had disappointed my parents so much. So I forfeited going until she had left. I didn't want any drama at my dad's bedside, any bad feelings, any words spoken, and frankly my dad's deathbed is a very private place and experience for me, I didn't want to share any of it with her. So I waited a long to to get there. I got there at 10. And left shortly after.

Then he died.

Why can't people just do the right thing and respect our wishes? We asked for no visitors because my dad was a very private person and wouldn't have wanted people staring at him in that condition. But people can't seem to do the right thing. I don't care if you are offended that we want no visitors, it's not about you, its about my dad and his dignity.

You know, when someone is in that condition, and you go to visit them, you aren't doing it for them, it isn't going to affect them at all. They don't know you are there, nor do they care. You are doing it for you. To make you feel better. So YOU can see them one last time. And so maybe you can go back to church and let everyone know that you paid him a visit, that you went out of your way for our family. So you can report back to the church folk on my dad's condition. Well FUCK YOU.

WHAT THE FUCK is that all about? People need to fucking respect your wishes. And because she didn't, I didn't get to see him very much yesterday.

I'm going back down to Phoenix today. Get to help pick out a casket and make arrangements. Lots of fun.

The service should be sometime towards the end of the week I am thinking.

I told Ryan last night that Bob had died. The kids always called him Bob mostly, only sometimes Grampa. He was their friend. Ryan loved him. The look on his face broke my heart. Ryan is 4. He was very sad. His friend is gone. He was in my mom's house yesterday. He went in and started calling for Bob. Expecting to see him. He was his friend.

I love all of you in blogland, those that I know in person, and those that I know through the world wide web.

Thank you Trailady. Thank you for your words. They touch me alot. I feel like we are friends from a long way back, like me and Nikki and Cathy. Thank you.

Nikki, I wish you were here, so we could go drink.

Cathy, since you are, maybe we will.

The world is a much, much darker place,

...... without my dad in it.