I requested my name and children not be listed in RBS's obit. It was. My children were not listed by name. Atleast they respected my wishes some. I don't care regardless. He was nothing to me other than a sperm donor. My last name was spelled wrong. I got a good chuckle when I read it.
Even bigger chuckle when the last sentence read "will be missed by family and friends alike." That is the farthest thing from the truth. His family did not ever associate with him. Ever.
I received a phone call from someone on Tuesday asking me if I would be attending the memorial and such when his remains are entered into the veterans memorial. In order to be given the flag that would be presented. I won't go. And I don't want the flag. I don't want anything. Just left alone.
Like a horror movie being rewound over and over....that is what the reel is playing in my head. At every corner I see his fucking face. At every commercial on the radio I hear his fucking voice. Every person who smokes that comes near me reminds me of his fucking breathe. I would have never imagined a week ago when I got the call he died....this would he happening. NEVER IMAGINED!! Rinse, rewind, repeat....over and over.
I can't pull myself together today. I started off raring and ready to go. And then got hit by an overwhelming amount of grief.
My sons FM confirmed to me last night something I knew. And it would have knocked me down to begin with.
These two events have taken its toll today. And I can't seem to get up. I hurt everywhere. My entire body hurts.
I hate this.
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