A Long-Overdue Weekend Recap

Seems that I always have something I really want to blog about, but a.) don’t really have the time, and b.) don’t want to blog anything else until I get that one thing out of the way. Mom’s visit over July 4th weekend was like that. I should have at least written down some details right away; instead, I’ll be posting pictures of a long weekend that’s already started to run together in my memory.

Mom was supposed to arrive before noon on Thursday, July 4th, but her car gave her trouble as soon as she left my Aunt Connie’s house (where she’s staying until she gets an apartment of her own). So, she turned around and went back “home,” then borrowed Connie’s minivan to make the trip, instead. She arrived in time for lunch.
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10th Wedding Anniversary Weekend!

Had I taken more photos, I would have liked to have made this post less wordy and more photo-heavy. As it is, I got so caught up in, well, enjoying myself that I forgot to snap pics until halfway through Saturday’s fun.

I’m getting ahead of myself, though. First, there was…

Friday – Our Actual 10th Wedding Anniversary

I took the day off of work, partially because it was my anniversary, but partially because the parking garage downtown was going to be closed that day for construction, and I didn’t feel like dealing with the hassle of parking in another garage. My initial thought had been that we could spend the afternoon at the Toledo Zoo.

Silly me.
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Gary P. Smoke, 1956-2013

I agreed to fly south to attend my step-Gary’s funeral mainly to support my Mom. I hadn’t realized it would be so healing for me, too.

I once told Gary (and he delighted in repeating this) that we met under possibly the worst possible circumstances. I was taking a semester off from college, as I was under Academic Suspension, so I had to come back home to live with my Mom after having tasted a bit of freedom on campus. I had no job, no computer (this was 1995), and my Mom had this new boyfriend who (when he was around, anyway) wanted to be my new Dad or something. Mom had gotten used to going out to his place most nights while I was off at school… so I was home alone, depressed and resentful.

After a while, Gary and his dog moved in with us, which was almost worse — especially since our cat was permitted according to the lease, but dogs were not. In my mind, Gary essentially got us evicted from the sweet apartment my Mom had finally managed to score after living in “the projects” during my high school years.

That didn’t happen until I went back to college, though. In the meantime, Gary convinced Mom that I needed to get a job if I was going to live at home, so I applied for and landed a seasonal gig at Target, stocking the Christmas aisles during third shift. That, at least, meant that I was asleep during the day and didn’t have to deal with Gary much. I don’t do third shift well, though, as I discovered, so it also felt like all I was doing was working and sleeping.

After I returned to college, Mom and Gary moved to Parma (partially because they were evicted for violating the lease, but partially because Gary wanted to be closer to his son). Not only did I have to memorize a new “home” address, but I also discovered that they’d left a couple pieces of my furniture behind.

I was pissed. Granted, they were old and ratty pieces of furniture… but they were mine!

When I went “home” for Spring Break, they hadn’t quite gotten settled into their new two-bedroom duplex apartment. The back bedroom was full of boxes; I don’t recall if the bed was set up yet, but it was so full of stuff that it didn’t matter.

I slept on the couch during all of Spring Break, and felt like an interloper in my own home. I’d just met Aaron, and spent all my time listening to the mixtape he’d made me and calling him on the phone and wishing I didn’t have to leave campus for breaks.

Not the best start to a step-parent-child relationship. Continue reading

Christmas Day 2012: Connor’s First Real Christmas

Last Christmas, Connor wasn’t really old enough to appreciate getting gifts; he was almost three months old, and I’m pretty sure he spent our gift-opening time laying on a blanket on the floor next to his parents while we opened gifts to each other. Well, I mean, we got him a couple of little things, but we figured he was too little to remember or even know what was going on.

This year was different.

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