Today was your oldest daughter’s first day of school. We made it almost 2 hours before the school counselor called me because she had a melt down and had crawled under the table. Other than that, she had a wonderful time and looked so cute. It was adorable getting her ready to go. She wanted her hair freshly washed with a big pink bow (because that’s what big girls do) and we almost ran late so she could look “just right.” I hope that you were able to see that, then again…I hope you didn’t get to see it, because you already made the choice that you didn’t want to be here for this.
I had a ton of paperwork to fill out. All about what language we speak in the house (FYI: Obscenities and slang are not options) what our living situation is, etc. There were many spots that I had to fill out the “Mother’s” section that hovered above the “Father’s” section. In all those sections where your information went…I wrote “Not Applicable”
So you are “Not Applicable.” How does that make you feel?
You know what some synonyms of applicable are?
functional, practicable, serviceable, useful, workable, working
You are none of these. You are “Not Applicable”
By the way…I also had to fill out some paperwork for myself. (Psst….I’m going to college *neener neener neener pbbbbbbt*) I had to check the little box marked “Widow”…There is so much shame behind that word for me. I guess because I know why I am a widow. I shouldn’t care what others think about your actions, but it my natural reaction to want to have things with big neat bows on them. If you had waited a couple of weeks, I could have checked “Divorced” and I think there would have been less shame because husbands and wives often divorce these days. It’s not every day that you have to check the “Widow” box because your husband bit a bullet. Thanks for that, jerk. You took away that nice neat bow (although I’m not surprised that even in this you had control over me) that allowed me to wrap up our relationship. There are so many things adding up that are going to make me kick your shins when I get to heaven….I would highly advise you be prepared to see me with a baseball bat. I’m coming to collect on you. If St. Peter takes away my baseball bat and hands me a harp, I’m pretty sure I can beat the crap out of you while making some beautiful harp music.
I’m going to end this on that visual. It makes me very happy Mr. Not Applicable.
I love you, Harp Wrangler..
That was a great ending, Alycia! I will now go happily through my evening picturing you using a harp as a weapon on the streets of gold! 🙂
I adore you. SO much. And I love the outfit. And the pink bow. And her sweet smile. And I’m so glad she enjoyed her first day of school. Love you tons, sweet friend. xoxo
you are very applicable though! i am so proud of how you are handling yourself with grace, and the sarcasm we all love from you! i admire the way you can hold your head up and keep it together for those girls when you feel like crawling under the table yourself. you deserve a hell of a lot better than he gave you, but you are still making lemonade with the lemons…. i love you girl and will be here anytime you need me!!! 🙂
p.s. i bet you hitting his head will give you a good beat to keep! 🙂
She was adorable! I’m so sorry you are having to go through all of this alone :o( And good for you for starting college (among other things like going to the fair, etc that you wanted to do) Wishing you many more brightly colored, neat little bows :o)
Oh. My. God.
Harp Wrangler it is! But whether it’s crayons, bats or harps you always come through with heart and humour in abundance. Amazing.
Your daughter looked beautiful. And theharp beating is so funny!
How fab-U-lous to read that you are getting mad! It’s a great step. AND I love that you are going to college. Freshman Wrangler. Oooooo I love it. And I have to tell you nuthin’ is as fun as going school when your kids are.
Aww, what a cutie pie.
I hope your words help people who are considering suicide realize how much they hurt the people around them, how selfish it can be. My thoughts are with you and your daughters. I think the letters you are writing are a great idea – a great way to work through this time and to let go of all the emotions that build up in you, Ms. Harp Wrangler.
I tried hard not to laugh, I now nickname you harp beater, I am so sorry you are going through this but so glad you are not holding it in