“My brother is dead.”

Krimson passed over the Rainbow Bridge at 3 this morning. Right in front of me. He took his last gasp and just froze. It’s something I can’t unsee in my mind. I have regrets with this one; did I do enough for him? I also realized I have no emergency money. I really need to stop spending down to nothing. And stop taking out payday loans that takes up a third of my disability pay.

We had to Uber ($60 one way) because I have no car. Luckily–I mean, seriously lucky–my publisher sent me an advance to cover that and Krimson’s cremation. Again, no emergency money. I don’t know what we would have done if he hadn’t come through. Bury him in a shallow grave in the back yard? (That’s illegal.)

But that’s enough of the “what if”s that send me into a depressive spiral. I need to find a comedy to get me out of this. I’m reading Starter Villain by John Scalzi and it fits the bill. Review of that coming in a week or so.

We have no cats. It’s been years since I haven’t had a pet. My son wants a dog. I wouldn’t mind, but we don’t have the room for a big dog, and I don’t like small ones. Dogs are higher maintenance than cats. He doesn’t realize it.

My son considered Krimson his brother. He was so brave wrapping him in a blanket and putting him in the carrier. (This means a seizure is due so I have to be careful the next couple of days.)

So for today, I mourn. I already miss your cat butt in my face when I go to sleep.

Review: Apprentice of the Dead

DNF

I didn’t realize this was YA until I started reading it. I’ve read YA–and wrote it. They’re fast reads, so I decided to stick with it for a while.

Imagine contemporary technology used with an Egyptian backdrop? I had a hard time with that.

The writing is pretty good, crisp and tight. But it’s a female protag, a Romantasy element, present tense, and first person who seems to accept everything as it happens. These are red lines for me. When a mystery is added to the story, I didn’t care. Too much stuff going on, and I know she’s not going to solve everything in 80 or so pages. This was a good teaser novel for the first book in the series.

But I don’t have time for that.

“I’ve fallen and can’t get up!”

I fell four times this week. Two were out of bed, and two when I lost my balance trying to feed the cat. One I went to the hospital for and they x-rayed my entire right side. No broken or fractured bones. The out-of-bed was because my mattress is too big for my bed. I have found that I can climb into my “big comfy chair” and once I’m there, I can haul myself into the chair and get up that way. My son is there to help by giving me a little push or using the gait belt I bought to lift me up.

All of a sudden, my legs now feel like lead, especially the right side. I can’t tell where my foot or leg is in space. I have to watch where I put my foot and leg because I run over my foot with the walker. Going up and down stairs scares me. Luckily I had someone put in a railing. And my son lifts me up when I go up the stairs. I lead off with my left, haul myself up with the railing, dragging the right leg up. Every time I take the stairs (which I have to because the bathroom , bed, and computer are there) I’m so scared of falling down them. So far, I almost fell down once when I missed a step.

I have a Life-Alert. I also have a button that rings in his room so he can come down and help me. What would be good is to have a house with no stairs! I was going to sell my house, but if I did that, I’d lose Medicaid for about three years when I spend the money I make from the house. I would flip it to a mobile home, but I can’t afford the HOA fees (the rent on the land). I could afford it at the 55+ communities, but then if something happens to me, my son would get kicked out.

So, yes, my house scares me.

Review: She Who Became the Sun

Four Stars

A sapphic story.

A girl finds out that her fate is nothing. When her brother dies, she takes his name, mannerisms, and fate. Using this, she advances in a monastery life, and later in an army of rebels.

This book took me two months to read. Not because it was bad, but because I didn’t really have time. When I got to page 300, I knew I could finish it in a couple of nights, which I did. I think it’s mostly influenced by Eastern history and myth. Is it believable? More or less. The author didn’t have to introduce magic, but she did. There is a sequel. But I would rather have a palate cleanser with some straight up Urban Fantasy or history.

Joe Halderman is next.

April showers bring death

This is a sad day.

I found out that an old friend of mine from the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism–Medieval Re-enactment group) died yesterday. The person who told me had just lost her husband a couple of months ago, and now it was her sister. Another friend just lost her 92 year old father a week ago.

Why these deaths hit me right now–Jon and Nora were both on dialysis. Nora couldn’t walk anymore and lived in Florida. Judy’s dad scares me because my father is getting up there. He’ll be 81 this year.

I’m not worried about their afterlife. It might be selfish of me, but I will miss them because I no longer can get to talk to them. That is what makes me sad. The Death card in tarot means a major change, a rebirth, That is what I believe. You go to the afterlife you expect. And then you come back. Maybe not here on Earth, maybe somewhere else in the galaxy or another time.

Pluto is also a planet of death. I keep trying to figure out if my husband’s chart shows his death day. You usually can’t predict death in an astrology chart. For example, my chart these last few years has Pluto in the first house, which, in some books, show hard times and come this short of saying death is predicted. At 102 years it may return to its position at my birth. I’ll be gone, physically or mentally, by then.

I think on my own mortality more often than not, at least since I’ve been on dialysis. Now that I’m no longer a candidate for a transplant, I’m stuck with going to dialysis three times a week for four hours at a time. Seven if you want to include the travel time when they bring me an hour early and I leave two or more hours after I come off the machine.

Their deaths mean to me that they live in my memories and dreams. I think of Jon whenever I want to be the curmudgeon, Nora when I see my SCA garb, and Dad–well I hope that he doesn’t go anywhere except back up here because if something happens to him in Florida, I don’t know what I’ll do. And my death? I can’t. I just can’t. I have too much work to do, people depend on me.