Dear Grandpa

Dear Grandpa,

I miss you.

I think about you a lot.

I never realized how much you were the glue that held everything together. I see it now that I no longer see anyone on Dads side of the family, except a few cousins.

You know that you were always more of a father to me. You were always there when I needed you.

I miss your voice on the answering machine when I'd call. You were always trying to reach out and save anyone.

I miss you being grandpa duck lips, before that was ever a thing with selfies. You said if you put your lips out like that, then put the glass of water up to your mouth, you could drink better.

I remember the first house when you would sing

“Tosha, where are you going?”

and I'd say “Upstairs to take a bath.”

“Tosha, your legs are like toothpicks,

And your neck, like a giraffe.”

You were a magnificent woodworker, and you fixed up cars. During the day you were always busy doing something, but in the evening we would relax and play checkers or other mind games.

You loved watching bull fighting.

And I'll never forget when I made you watch Napoleon Dynamite. You laughed so hard you turned red!!!

Unfortunately, I one of the last memories I have with you is visiting you in the hospital after I got married. The nurses were so excited. They say you'd been so excited for me and couldn't stop talking about it. Your face lit up when I walked in. You wanted to smell my flowers, which were fake, and you said they smelled like rubber shoes. I laughed. I kept those flowers for that reason. I'm upset because the picture from that moment never turned out, it was blurry.

I'm also upset because that marriage didn't work out.

You were there for me when I had to move out of my mom's after trying to live with my dad, and let me live in your basement.

You were there for me when my ex threatened to pull out in front of traffic to kill him and I both, and when I finally stopped crying you talked me through it all.

You were there for me and screaming, the only time I ever saw you angry, when my ex husband talked me into letting him sleep over under your roof. Even though we just slept, I wish I would have listened to you.

I wish I would have listened to you more.

After my separation, my ex came to my door and threw you in my face. He said you would be disgusted with me.

I told him he was wrong.

You were supportive of my mom leaving her abusive husband, your son. You would have been supportive of  your granddaughter leaving an abusive husband.

Though I still wonder if you would be proud of me.

Grandpa, are you still proud of me?

After you died I struggled. You were the closest man to God that I knew. Yet, he took you away too soon, and you struggled.

I quit my job because they tried to tell me I couldn't have time off to be by your side.

When I returned to work, I took care of a woman who begged to die, even when I saw no reason for her to want such a thing.

I didn't understand why God took you and not her.

I was angry. I pushed religion away.

I learned about other religions in college.

And I still struggle to find my place in one.

But I still have your bibles you gave me.

I also still have the harsh letter you wrote me.

And I wonder if you would be proud of me.

I didn't have you for my worst time. I had to pick myself back up. And it's been hard, and it's an ongoing struggle.

I wish I had known more about you.

You had the best insight.

Even if you did have a glass eye.

When I was younger I thought you were just slightly cross eyed. Then I learned that at a work accident, you turned around and got a dislodged nail sunk into your eyeball. It surprised me more that the glass eye was not a round spear.

Most the time I forgot you had it.

I miss breakfast with you. We'd have white grape and peach juice with our cereal. That juice will forever remind me of you.

You will forever be my rock grandpa. The one who I am still trying to make proud. The one who could always make me smile. I miss you, and I love you.

Love,

Your granddaughter

Toshy

Three month curse

Up until I started dating my ex husband, all of my relationships only lasted 3 months.

That killed any self esteem I could have gathered growing up.
A huge part of it, I'm sure of now that I look back, was that I moved a lot before high school. But still, every guy only lasted a few months. Like a ticking time bomb, I was someone a guy could only handle for so long.

My first kiss was in second grade. He was a boy that lived in the trailer park next door. He had dark hair and was funny. Trying to show off on his bike riding up my driveway, he skidded out. He ended up scraping his knee and crying. I decided he looked cute after he had a bandaids and the barely there tears in his eyes. So I kissed him. But I was never his girlfriend.

I crushed on so many guys. But I didn't ever really date. I was a flirt. But I never seemed good enough to the guys I liked.

There are moments I remember fondly, and moments that really hurt.

I remember one church outting. I don't know why we went here, but we went to a beach and were there really late. I remember walking on the beach holding this guys hand. We were in step, and the sand squished between our toes. The moon shown on us. And it seemed like a good moment to like confess a crush. But we didn't. or at least I didn't. We might have hugged. But I'll never forget that feeling of almost.

One sweet guy I dated, I just think I was too much for him. I wrote him notes, and I mostly only saw him at church on Sundays and Wednesdays. I think when it started to almost happen more, he couldn't handle it. He was never his outgoing funny self around me, so it was ok. It just hurt.

I cried at school and had a teacher comfort me to a breakdown. A guy I was seeing broke up with me in a note on our three month dating anniversary. I was devastated. I could see more with him. I'm still not sure why he left me, which is what hurt the most I think. I still picture us laughing and rolling around on the grass. The teacher was his mom. And funny enough, he wasn't supposed to be allowed to date anyone in high school. But she made the exception for me. She comforted me with words I still hold dear to my heart.

I crushed on many more bad boys though.
The ones that I desperately sat on my porch waiting for them to walk by, even though he hardly ever acknowledged me.
The guy that was older, and didn't want to date me because "what would his high school friends think of him dating an eighth grader", but tried to stick his tongue down my throat and grab my boob when he sat on my bed once.
The guy that would call me to talk and say nice things, but would make fun of me when others were around.

Of course there were ones I broke off too.

But for the most part, I felt cursed to just three months. I was not loveable. I constantly wrote in my journal about not being good enough for anyone.

Looking back, three months is even shorter than it felt then. I read through my journals and I feel my hurt. I always saw more in these boys than I should have, and felt more, and planned more.

To look back now at the boys. To see the men they grew into. To see the woman I turned into.

To think that I married the first guy who lasted longer than three months. Wow. Why? Why was I so desperate to grasp at finding love?

I still struggle to understand why someone stays with me. I have had few adult relationships. But I still question if I'm loveable, because for most of my life Ive been not good enough.

Three month curse. Such a silly thing that I believed. I hope I can look back and think my not believing I'm good enough will seem silly too.

pErFectIon: a poem

Perfection

An erection of an idea

By some dick head

No one's perfect

And that's beautiful

Tell me the stories

of your scars

On your mind, body, and soul

Tell me what's hurt you

So I can kiss it

And make it better

Without actually changing anything

Just loving you for who you are

Affection

- Natosha Harp
7-18-16

Was my Love Enough

“I need to go home.” She whispered it under her breath as I walked by her. I had just clocked in at work and was heading to get report. I walked passed Kathy sitting in a chair looking out the window like she always did. Today it was raining out. She was fiddling with the button on her sweater as she stared out at the grey skies. Today I think that the wrinkles by her eyes were glistening, she must have shed some tears. My heart ached as I continued on past her and smiled “Good afternoon Kathy!” She met my eyes and barely lifted the corners of her mouth before heaving a sigh and returning her stare.

“I need to go home.” It was nice out today and Kathy was pushing at the front door. The alarm was sounding overhead to alert the staff of her attempted escape. The door remained locked, but today Kathy was determined. She rattled the door to the extent her whole body was shaking. I approached to redirect her back into the common area, “Kathy, we were just about to play cards.” She shoved me away with a firm no. I had to place myself between her and the door to stop the alarms. The other residents were getting anxious. “Kathy, I can see you're upset. Can we sit on the couch to talk about it?” “No!” she wailed, “I just need to go home.” She grabbed a hold of my shoulders with both of her hands and squeezed with all her might. I rested my hands on both of hers,“We can't do that right now, you don't have a ride. Why don't we play cards until we can arrange that for you?” I needed to placate her. She dropped her hands from my touch and stormed off to her room instead.

“I need to go home.” She was still at the lunch table long after lunch was over. She refused to let us take her plate from her, even though she was circling around the same bite of food. This meal always made her slow to leave the table. I'm not sure what it was about chicken pot pie, but in the end she was pushing around the pile of peas every time. She would scrape up the last bit of sauce and lick her fork again and again. She would close her eyes and swim in the last drops of flavor, before returning to pushing the peas. I wondered if Kathy had her own famous chicken pot pie, or if her mom made as good of recipe as the one we served. When she finally decided she took all she could eat, she'd take her plate to the sink and rinse it herself. She was more than willing to help out on chicken pot pie day.

“I need to go home.” I heard the shout down the hall. I ran towards the sounds of cupboard doors slamming. I go into Kathy’s room to find all of her belongings are in the middle of her bed. She has wrapped them in the comforter blanket, almost like she is going to place it on the end of a stick to better carry over her shoulder. She packed like a ten year old running away. “I need to go home,” she repeated with her anguish not packed away. Her voice trembled with sadness and frustration at her situation. “This is your home Kathy,” I told her as I pulled her into a hug. The realization of her being stuck here was always taken better with love. I rubbed her back and eventually she brought her hands to give me a hug back. I set her on her couch to flip through a magazine while I put her belongings away.

“I need to go home.” I barely heard her say it over the noise all the visiting families voices. She made her way past all of the strangers. She smiled at the children as they ran past her feet. Yet you could see the envy in her eyes as they were running towards another woman, their grandma. Kathy never had any visitors. Holidays and gatherings were always extra hard for her. I tried to pair her with families that were more than willing to invite her into their group. But her loneliness and envy would always turn into aggression. Other families had a hard enough time with their own loved ones. So I took to walking around with Kathy while she held my hand. We walked to avoid the emptiness and the obvious that we weren't going anywhere with purpose, like the home that she yearned to return to.

“I need to go home.” She insisted on saying it even though it took everything out of her. She lay in her bed. I was stroking her head with a cool washcloth. Her body was shutting down.  The dementia was making her body forget how to maintain homeostasis. “I'm here for you Kathy, when you're ready you can go home to Jesus.” I knew it was going to be the only real way that she would get to leave like she had been craving. Death would be her only escape from this Nursing home. Heaven was not exactly the home she wanted to escape to, but it would have to be enough.

“I need to go home.” It had been another tough day for me, as I was just finishing up packing Kathy’s belongings. I agreed to stay over to help pack up one of my favorite patients things. My coworker hugged me in understanding. Even though I dealt with death pretty often, it never got easier. Especially when she was one of my favorites. “Be careful on your way,” my coworker waved goodbye to me as I clocked out and left. I would never forget Kathy. I cried again at never knowing why she so desperately needed to go home. I just hope that my love for her while I was at work was enough for her.

Fitness update First Saturday of February '18

So, obviously I have not been on here enough. I need to get it together. I have been working too damn much.
The good news is, with working so much, I have been sticking to my diet for the most part!
As of weighing in yesterday, I am down 10 pounds!!!

The best part about my diet is that I can eat what ever I want for dinner. Which unfortunately I have tested. I have eaten a healthy dinner that I have prepared myself. I have also eaten a Cleveland favorite of The Melt Bar and Grill. I have followed that with a meal replacement of protein powder.
So my cheat meals don't leave me feeling that guilty or deprived of anything.

Then after work I do a body weight exercise for 30 minutes, and 2 miles on the treadmill.
See, this is where over working helps me. Mea s I get on that treadmill more.
Most if the time.
Now my plan is to just walk these 2 miles, but lately I've been needing to get out some extra aggression, so I've felt like running. So I run a bit. No pressure since my plan is just to walk, but man it feels good sometimes just to run for a few minutes.
I started up an abs 21 Day challenge too.
Last month my 21 Day challenge got the best of me because after the holidays I got sick and started off on the wrong foot.

So all things considered.
10 pounds in 2 months.
Given holidays and being sick.
But finding a plan that is working.
I'm ready.
Now to just keep this blog updated with weekly progress would be nice.....

The picture is of me feeling good on a Friday night. I looked cute for a girls night. Thick and beautiful right?