Funeral Homes Suck

Funeral homes suck.
Well they do.
Just being honest.
I know it's someone's job, and ironically I graduated with a kid (he's not a kid anymore, lol, but when I knew him he was!) who runs a funeral home. That's cool if it's your thing, or your family business, but to me, it's creepy.
But what I'm really talking about is funeral home viewings. They suck.
This one was no exception.
I'm an ugly cryer. And I can't talk. I get that typical lump in my throat and I just shake my head when folks talk to me. lol...yep, it's a real laugh! I know it's going to happen, and it does. EVERY time. What can I say, I'm an emotional person.


Let me just say with all the stress of this week, that the fudge I bought at the Candy Kitchen at the ocean is coming in quite handy right now! The chocolate one in particular. YUMMMM

Having to say goodbye to such a dear friend has been rough. The way it happened making it even tougher. It's painful to think of him being gone. Ricky had always been a really great guy. Happy, funny, cracking jokes, and sometimes wildly inappropriate (as a mutual friend said). He loved calling people "Effers" that was just his humor. I already mentioned that I knew him practically my whole life. I never would've guessed he was in the pain that he was.

The worst part is that he deleted his Facebook. It's gone. There's no way to go one and look at old photos he posted, or old things he wrote... Birthday wishes, or goofy comments... it's all gone. I would be taking screen shots or saving all of that stuff if I had the chance.

But this isn't about me. It's about preserving his memory, and making sure he lives on in all of us. I appreciate all the love I've received. You are all truly the best. Obviously I'm still hurting, and will be for a long time. But I'm going to make something positive out of this. I've thrown myself into things like breast cancer research and concussion research, I can see me focusing on suicide awareness or mental health soon.

But at the moment, my creative outlet is blocked from all my own sadness and mourning. Not to mention PMS. Because why wouldn't it be PMS time too? Right? (Keep layering it on...someone really wants to see how much I can take apparently)

A very good author friend said maybe someday I'll be able to put this into my writing, and it will be therapeutic. I'm sure she's right. I can already see me starting research and using this terrible experience in some beneficial way. Maybe even a charity book for mental health. I can imagine him giving me a "that's awesome!" if I can manage to pull that off.

He used to drive a boat of a car and it was banana yellow. Ironically, the Renegades colors are yellow and gray, so perhaps someday we'll see some Renegades player buy some awful banana yellow sports car? If you ever read that, you'll know - Easter Egg!

He loved Halloween, Godzilla, and Shark Week. Comi-cons and zombies. Him and my hubby bonded over The Simpsons. So many tributes to choose from. I'll have to think about this a bit. That's the great thing about doing what I do. I put words to paper, and they are there forever.

I'm so very lucky that he was a big part of my life, as well as my husband and son's too. But that does make the loss deeper and rougher. It's not a pain that a band-aid can fix, or even a can (or more) of beer. It's going to have to run its course and as agonizing as it is, a life without him will slowly become the new normal. To me, it's like losing a cousin. And it does suck.

Our families are intertwined. They will always be. I grew up across the street from his family. I was close to his parents my whole life, and was devastated when we lost them. His mom used to call me (affectionately, of course) "brat". I loved the nickname so much, I went out and bought a license plate cover that said BRAT. I'm friends with Ricky's cousin and my son is friends with her son. The boys play hockey together and went to CCD together. I know her mom from being around this family all these years. It's awesome how neighbors across the street grew into family. And with the help of social media, staying in touch is easier than ever.

Funny story. His mom HATED cats. She was attacked as a child. And we had the cat from hell. Our cat hated everyone but my mom and dad. Anyway... (I'm getting off topic) My sister and I were home alone, and our Carbon Monoxide Detector went off in the house. We threw the mean cat in her cat carrier and went across the street. She didn't want to let us in with the cat but she did. She was nervous even with the cat behind "bars" in her carrier. But she wouldn't turn us away. (turns out the battery was going bad in the detector, there was no threat. But what did we know?)

I'm trying to think of some other fond memories of Ricky, but they just aren't coming at the moment. I still feel like I'm trying to keep my head above water, and at the same time feel like I'm in a fog.

And I want ice cream (thanks to the pms). Guess that Candy Kitchen fudge will have to do.

I'm hoping to get back to my Luc tomorrow and find some direction in the next Renegades book, Shot at Love. I pushed the deadline back due to all the unfortunate and confusing events as of late. But I'm feeling the writing vibe, and hoping I get a good bit done soon. I still plan to get Shot at Love out in the Fall.

Tomorrow is my lazy day, and I'm looking forward to it. Drinking coffee well into the afternoon, maybe a nap, and NO runs to the grocery store! I end up there way more than I like - LOL. What that means for dinner though, I'm not so sure.

For now, I'm taking it day by day. That's the best any of us can hope for, right? With the help of the remaining fudge and some Lucky Charms cereal, it'll be okay.

See Godzilla in the Pens jersey? This was a photo he posted every once in a while in support of our beloved Pens. Cracked me up every time!
This was "Classic Ricky".

You'll see me posting this logo from time to time.
It's just something I need to do. Spreading the word, or maybe helping someone else is the only thing I can do now.








Rest in Peace, Ricky....