That title up there? That is what it sounds like in my brain right now. I keep saying, “Man…I’m so tired…” but in reality? I think “tired” is not the right word. My brain is fried. My emotions are zapped. My eyelids hurt from crying and I have shin splints. SHIN SPLINTS! How in the hell did that happen?

You know how I am always talking about the annoying habit I have of getting people’s names wrong? And not just acquaintances…but my family? More specifically…my kids? I like to get their names mixed up. Or sometimes I like to call them by the dog’s names. They love that.

Well – as a sign of how zapped I am – let me tell you what I called NikkiZ yesterday. I called her, “Mommy.” SERIOUSLY…I called my 3-year old, “Mommy.” WHAT IN THE HELL? Of course – there is no way you can hear yourself call your child Mommy and not laugh your ass off. So it was a good mood-lifter. Try it some time. I think it would be just as hilarious if you faked it. Call your 3-year old Mommy pretend like you didn’t mean to. If your 3-year old is anything like mine? She’ll still be laughing about it 2 days later.

Anyway…we’re home now. Back in Alabama after a whirlwind week. There is still quite a bit left to do to get life settled back in Knoxville, but for now? I’m back in Alabama. I want to tell you about Dad’s services at some point in time…but for now? I’m just going to give the entire internet a great big hug. At least once a day I sat down to read through the comments on that last entry and each time they made me cry. Just knowing that other people were thinking about us and sending us their love…it meant the world to me. I think you were all holding me up yesterday as I (quite ungracefully) read a eulogy at my Dad’s funeral mass. I was totally trying to back out of it even up to the last second, but my brother wouldn’t let me. (He did his with only notecards…I’ll never understand how he pulled that off.) The strength just came to me as I started reading and I’d like to thank all of you for that strength.

On a less impressive note, however, I’d like you all to also know I’m blaming you for my accidental 9-1-1 call from my hotel room. I didn’t mean to do it (And still not exactly sure how I did it.) but I needed someone to blame so I blamed you: The Internet. I hope you don’t mind.

29 thoughts on “EIjroie;sjklaj;fzzzzzzzzzzzz…”

  1. I’ve done the 911 thing too, though I know how I did it. Force of habit – dialed “9” like I would in my office, “1” for long distance, but just hit it twice. Hung up before it rang (or so I thought), but the cops were knocking on my door 4 minutes later…Oops. BTW, you won’t hear the end of that Mommy thing until…well, never. Glad you all had a chance to giggle!

  2. Zoot,

    Yesterday as I was driving home the clouds were just so and it made me think of you and your family. I said another prayer. I am so very sorry and hope you find comfort in knowing you are cared for all over. God Bless.

  3. Because my wife is a SAHM, my daughter is more used to asking her for help or permission, so she often calls me “Mommy” by mistake. Whenever she does, I ask her if I am Mommy, and usually she replies, laughing, “No! You’re Daddy!”

    Except this one time, when she said, without irony or humour, “No. Mommy doesn’t have tattoos and a beard.”

  4. I’m glad your eulogy went well. I was afraid when you told us about it you were going to say how embarassed you were because you farted in the middle.

    So glad to have you back.

  5. Glad you are back home and have had a couple of laughs amid the tears.

    Again, I’m sorry for your loss ((Big hugs)) right back at ya!

  6. You are one strong woman, Kim! You will always be glad you went ahead with giving the eulogy. Your dad is so proud of you.

  7. Glad you were able to get through the eulogy. Just want you to know I’ve been thinking about you at this difficult time.

  8. Okay you calling NikkiZ Mommy is good. that is really good. I hope you are doing okay considering!!!

  9. You and your family have been in our thoughts & prayers…. your post giving Dad’s a heads-up on how daughters view their involvement was beautiful and so, so true.

    We differ on most political views, but are kindred spirits when it comes to our feelings and love for our family.

  10. I had the pleasure of working with your Dad on many NEXUS installations in Canada. What a man and a good friend!! Due to geographical logistics (Ottawa Canada), I am so sorry that I could not attend the services…the rosary and mass. I sat with my rosary on Friday evening offering it up for Pat…hopfully at the same time as the Tennessee service was going on. I am so blessed to have talked over the telephone with your Dad just a week before he passed. I’ve got the nicest snapshot of him hanging in my office…he will always be in my prayers as well as you and your brother.

  11. My Dad read the eulogy for his Mum at her funeral in November – he held it together but it made me cry like a baby – he wanted a story that he could tell and I told him one about the chocolate eclairs that we would have at her house when we went for tea. He said that he’d already written it and didnt think that there would be space – and I was ok with that because I’d told him and so he knew the story kinda thing. Anyway he squeezed it in and it made me cry because he’d managed to fit it in.

    I know that wherever your Dad is, he’s looking down and is proud of you. ๐Ÿ™‚

  12. It probably was me, or my son, he called 9-1-1 accidentally too, while we were visiting relatives, and we didn’t even know it till they showed up..nice

  13. Welcome back, Kim! It appears you are holding up quite well and clearly you do not give yourself enough credit.

    I love that you still find humor even in the worst of situations which is a huge attribute to possess.

    Hang in there!

  14. I’m proud of you Zoot. I couldn’t even speak when we burried my dads ashes on the one year anniversary of his death. I speak to him all the time though… When I cook, when I clean, when I’m walking, when I shower. And I speak of him all the time. I’m so glad your children are there to remind you of life. I wish I could send you a card… Do you like international post cards? I can send you the most stereotypical one I can find from my country.

  15. I have the same problems with names. What I have done a lot of times is go totally blank on the name. So there I stand looking like a nut!

  16. I lost your feed for a few months, and can’t believe what you have been through. I am so sorry for your loss and wish you to find peace as you go through the next few years. Thoughts and prayers to you and yours.

  17. I’m belately saying this but:

    I am so so sorry you lost your Dad. The entry you wrote made me all teary. It was so beautiful and so overflowing with love.
    I believe your Dad still loves you too, wherever and however he may be now.

    ::::::HUGE HUG:::::::

  18. Right after my grandmother died, my mother was with her sisters and was writing a check for something. She was obviously feeling quite addled, as instead of writing her middle name as Maxine, she wrote Machine. They all laughed until they cried. This has become a classic story in our family.

  19. Giggling is totally therapeutic in times like this. I encourage much giggling and laughter. You’re doing great, 911 calls and all.

  20. So sorry to hear about your dad but I know you were expecting the news. Just take some time for yourself and enjoy family time with the kids.

  21. My favorite name mix-up comes from my grandmother who, in trying to get to me, stumbled through my sister’s (Sarah, Meghan) names first and ended up calling me “Sarah-Meg-ifer.”

    Of course, I routinely call my oldest son by our oldest dog’s name because their names begin with the same letter. And the dog has been dead now for five years. Since before my son was born.

    Or how about the time I called my best friend and left a message on her voicemail addressing her with my name and saying I was her? That must have been one truly confusing message to get.

    Hang in there.

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