Shuttles, Sundays and my Love/Hate for/with them

So, without going into too much detail and possibly unwilling revealing who I am lets just say that I have grown to strongly dislike (dislike used here only to keep my self proposes promise of not hating unbroken) space shuttle launches. 

  The work I do very much of the time revolves on space shuttle launches, movements, processing etc. in a visual capacity. Lately it has revolved around delays of launches, movements and processing.  This keeps me away from my soulmate, best friend, lover, life partner, co-pilot (though she can't drive a stick), wife- also known as BlueBird.  

I will say I love what I do, I just do not like to do it 70 hours a week. Lately my weekends have been filled with capturing images, both moving and still, of said shuttle and other misc. yet-to- be-in-space things and not filled with Blue Bird in my arms or by my side. I miss Blue Bird and

it hurts to be away from her all of the time.

   Sunday? That is the the day Maya was born sleeping. So those days are hard for me. But really, I blame the effing space shuttle. You see, I was at work the night before that fateful crappy visit to the hospital to find no heart  beat. Blue Bird hadn't noticed her moving as much or at least had a feeling she wasnt moving as much. Me I was stuck at work, in the middle of a shuttle  launch show, unable to come home and unable to check on Maya And Blue Bird.    Would it have made a difference? Probably not. But for forever and ever I will associate shuttle launches with the hard goodbye that we had to say too soon. And missing Maya and BlueBird are the reasons why I hate (I said it this time) them...

 

 

3:45 A.M.

3:45 in the morning. A very early (or late- or  just about right depending on your late night infomercial viewing habits) time to be waking up almost on a regular basis for the last 7 months.

No, I don't choose to do this, I don't set an alarm to wake at this hour. Yet, for some reason since our daughter left us I have found myself awake at that hour and 3/4 of an hour. Sometimes I wonder if it's her saying hello and if it is why the hell so early? Pseudo feeding wake up calls? Other times I wonder if that was the minute that her precious heart pattered it's last sweet beat. 

One day I guess I will know...  

Up Next. Sunday's, Shuttles and how they both suck at times...

Blogs and the people who never wrote them...

...or person anyway. I never was a big blogger fan, or a blogger at all for that matter-either as a producer or consumer. It's not that I was too cool, or not cool enough, or not technologically advanced to the point of figuring out how to use this blog template. I think it was more that I never saw the entertainment value in reading blogs that usually just had a paragraph about some random odd interweb tidbit and a link to the original blog or website where that tidbit was found.

Now, I find release in a blog. Emotional release. Yes, I have a beautiful and wonderful wife that is here for me (and me for her) every second of every day and I can cry on her shoulder at anytime- sometimes with her, sometimes just me. It's more of being able to tell the world had sad I am and how bad it sucks that our daughter died. My wife also has a blog her feelings.

Hopefully, as it is not my intent, this blog will not be a 365 (366 every 4 years) pity party for me. I guess my intent is to let other dads ( and moms) know that it is ok to grieve and that it is just as ok ( if not a bit healthier) to also still find, and maybe even search, for happiness...