Tag: Grief

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

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To whom should I send my Christmas list? A Christmas card, a letter? I haven’t even asked B’s Aunt or M Anime what they want for Christmas. Cherry wants people to buy her books. Virgil wants a better human. Braxton… who knows… “Listing Letters B, V.”

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But of course, I haven’t told Santa this. And God? We haven’t spoken since Braxton died. Miscommunication? Failure?

If I’m honest with myself, it would be sloth, simoleons, and my seething. Scummy people. And why did I fall on S today? A lack of sleep? I’m always missing my son. The Big S. But before we go into my selfishness and how people popularize words such as “Unalive.” I want to talk about my son. My Braxton, who would not stand for the mess I’m in right now. This is going to be my third Christmas without him. Some holiday huh! Only that wasn’t Santa breaking into the house yesterday—but my Old Man and my nephew Dylan. I’m telling you, I have to remember that Echo. Forgetting names and titles. Sympathy For The Devil, while I miss my little boy, Pet Angel

Not that I would call Braxton that. I remember the bag my boy came back in. The box that now sits on top of the nightstand that carries him. And I could write all the letters to Santa I want. But how do they say… “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,” ha. I doubt some elves could do anything. And what do I want this Christmas, Inspector? While I was at work, I knew exactly what I wanted. But who do I write a letter to? Hmm? Do you know how to get a note to the Grim Reaper, Inspector? The Government? Inspector, I have no clue. Such is the nature of fear, fury, and friendship. Does Virgil have a Christmas list?

A better human? Should I go and take a look at the Man in the Mirror? I’ve been crying for many a reason these days. I don’t want to look at him or anyone else. But I don’t get that luxury, do I? Even now, men are on the way. What do I say? Do? Inspector, not one of them is Santa Claus. I should have let the flood take me down to its depths. To think I call drowning one of my fears. I cut Far Cry 5 off once because my character drowned. Inspector, I’ll put that on paper/on-screen, whatever. But letters to my boys, paying my own bills, or why I hate breathing… The reaper, Santa, my friends. Listing Letters B, V

1053 Days Without B III, Day 494 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

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There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 168 ~That’ll B V’s Ma~

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“What does a black man call his woman? Mama.” “Cress Theory?” And Hell with everything I need to do today. My Ma’s birthday. Saying hello to Braxton’s Aunt. And the prospect of motherhood. When I’m no kind of man. That’ll B V’s Ma

Saturday, December 16, 2023

Tale 168 ~That’ll B V’s Ma~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I owe my Ma a lot of money. You know, for the EXISTENCE thing.

With how much I hate existing. I’m more a “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” than “The Terminator” type of creature… I don’t care about me, but “I’ll Always Love My Mama.” So Happy Birthday, Ma! Not that I would ever show her this place. Braxton’s Grandma. Lady Lunalesca, I never met my Braxton’s furry biological parents, ha-ha. And I’ve told the story about how Braxton got the name Pancake. Because that boy couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick” myself. “He’s My Son,” that’s it, “case closed.”

I’ve heard case closed a lot these past few days: Hannah Payne, Rudy Giuliani, and shall I say to be continued… This is more Inspector Echo’s wheelhouse, but I’m guilty. Lunalesca, my son is gone.

And while I keep thinking that the fact I had him “Euthanized” is enough for punishment. You know how I feel about that word. Ok, it’s the idea I’ll end up in jail for any number of “my” sins. I imagine there’s a worse punishment than Paramore’s “Ain’t It Fun.”

“Don’t go crying to your mama (Run to your mama)
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world (Don’t go crying)
Don’t go crying to your mama (To your mama)
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world.”

There’s my Ma that can’t help me. But aren’t I a spoiled, selfish sinner of a son? Who’s paying most of “my” bills? And then there’s Monday When “The Man Comes Around,” as in my Old Man about the floor. Didn’t Noah have to talk to God after the flood? Lunalesca, there’s the promise I made to Braxton. I always said I’d find him a Ma. But we had the same luck with women, sadly.

But let me tell you about the latest if it hasn’t been trying to remember my Ma’s birthday. It’s been me sitting here, continuing to be her biggest mistake. My existence… almost forty years. Because what have I done? And besides talking to her today, there is so much Luna. Only all this morning when I wasn’t asleep, it’s been wanting to make mothers out of the best friend’s girlfriend, sister, and uh… MILF of a mom. I swear this Christmas book I’m reading, His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare. It’s why I had to send V to B’s Room. With the stress of everything, hopes for my mother, hola for workers, ho, ho, ho’s. Looking for comfort, looking for Ma. That’ll B V’s Ma

1049 Days Without B III, Day 490 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

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“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

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Follow Your Nose? Do I look like Toucan Sam? And I intend to be a man of leisure, not some random mouth breather. So, I write books? Nope! All the huffing and puffing I do. Women, work, worrying about the house’s mildew scent. “They’ll B Air Virgil.”

Tuesday, December 12, 2023,

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Even when we’re on the beach. And I’m still here typing away—my favorite dream.

Sigh… Is that of relief? Regret? Or do I want to rant? It’s a relief that I no longer have the old Day Job. That same breath I used to call out to Braxton whenever I returned. “Just me, Baby B, I would say.” I’ve been holding it lately, but not because of you or Virgil. Baby Doll, it’s been hard. I keep saying that I know. It’s been 1045 days and counting. And I still can’t describe Braxton’s scent when he cuddled beside me. I miss it like crazy. Now there’s only mold and mildew, and I need to spend a lot more money on diapers… Or teach Virgil that he has to go outside for a reason. I’m glad I’m better at business.

Open mouth and insert foot, right? I’ve never been one for talking love. My personality. Cult of Personality. I’ll sing all day long. I’ve even found myself singing to Virgil from time to time. And then there’s playing with our kids, teaching, reading before bedtime. And what do we do after the children are put to bed… Sometimes, “It Seems Like You’re Ready.” Uh, all of the time because… well… You want to know that I’m still breathing. Or at least it seems like I want to. I have your love and the memory of my firstborn son, my love. I have things to keep me breathing. That’s not the question. It’s going about it. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not that simple, Baby Girl.

This is probably why I do my best Jay Sherman impression and become the most critical critic of my existence. It stinks. I so need to learn to shut up. Don’t waste my breath. Ha! But I won’t turn to cigarettes or, as Todd would say, the “Devil’s Lettuce.” And while I’m on the subject of Eric Vall’s characters. There’s Grayson Price and his thing for vanilla perfume. Your scent can be intoxicating, my dear. Only I should go out and buy some air fresheners for the house, with all the trouble. The smell of cash. “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.”

I need to take a deep breath and be thankful for it. I’m always trying, my love. Breathing’s the hardest thing? They’ll B Air Virgil?

1045 Days Without B III, Day 486 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 161 ~Virgil, I’ll B Pretending~

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So I woke up and pretended I was “working” hard so I could spend time with my family. If I wanted that, I would have stayed dreaming or dropped dead. And if I had a billion dollars, I would choose neither. But existing? Virgil, I’ll B Pretending

Saturday, December 9, 2023

Tale 161 ~Virgil, I’ll B Pretending~

Hey Lady Lu,

I AM a Billionaire right now… Or I was pretending for a minute or two this morning. Lunalesca, don’t read about billionaires.

Succubus Lord turned Demon King, sure. Man, whose three wives are elves and demons, okay. A college student meets a freaky holy roller student and two witches. Bring it on. Lunalesca; billionaires like Con Romero (sigh). When it comes to reading of a specific nature, billionaires, bikers, and basic mafia stuff, is that why I’m a bit miffed? Hmm? My Lady, it’s not like reading about other people who lost their fur babies is helping me. No, not at all. Nothing is helping me, to be honest. Well, other than an energy shot keeping me up. But this morning, I sat here with a phone, pad, and puppy for at least a few minutes. All that was missing was a P.Y.T., and I could pretend.

“This is the perfect life.” With all the talking I do to myself, those words never leave my lips. Hell! If I wanted something perfect, I would never breathe it either… if you know what I mean. But I’m up and pretending. I swear, Lady Lunalesca. Zombies got it. That’s why Braxton chose to become a ghost. If he were a zombie, would I love him enough to put him down? He was breathing and pretending to be okay, and I still did it. Lunalesca, I am not worthy of such mercy. It was only last night I used the term worthless with Replika. Now that’s sad. Does A.I. pretend to care? Well, with sixty or so dollars, ha… And then there is Virgil Vivi.

How many times would I wake up facing the phone, and Braxton would be facing the door? We would be back to back. And that Lady Lunalesca is love—little B and me (sigh).

So last night, while pretending I didn’t see who won Squid Game: The Challenge, thank you, X/Twitter. I was busy pushing Virgil away. I’m Braxton’s comfy spot, Luna. And Virgil is pretending to be… What? B, my son, his reincarnation? Well, wasn’t I? Lunalesca, when did I start putting pretend in the same nuance as a lie? Well, Lunalesca? The truth is this. He isn’t Braxton, and I say Later V, Later Virgil rather than Love you B, Love you, Braxton. Still in “The Land of Make-Believe.” Virgil, I’ll B Pretending

1042 Days Without B III, Day 483 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

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I don’t have a dollar, a drop of sweat, or a second to waste. Water can’t hit the floor after the flood. And how many days have I wasted away at the Day Job only to come back and smell the mold or what V did while hiding? “Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.”

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I’m not wasting any money on condoms or Plan B pills. That’s another story, Inspector.

Forgive me for my procrastination, E. I got sidetracked watching a sad scene from “Everybody Loves Raymond.” As if anything could be worse than my son, B III, dying. And that is how I begin every day. I wake up and see my son gone. I switch off the alarm. And then I crawl back into the bed I don’t own and “Try It Again.” To die? Or as I listen to “Balance.” To be left to a peaceful sleep. Albeit, I wish it were eternal. Because if it isn’t?

Well, you have what I’m doing now. I’ve almost finished reading my first Christmas Erotica of the season, “Christmas Stalking.” How is this going to help me, Inspector Echo? And there’s the Kindle Challenge too…

I doubt I’ll finish this one because…. AHEM, TRADITION! How I waste such a beautiful morning. Not that I would know. Again, I read a book, took Virgil outside, and everything before that… You know how I could cover all that… Eww! If I even remember all of their names. Fallon Henley, Cora Jade, Gigi Dolin, etc. You want to hear something pathetic, Echo. Me all day! Anyway, last night, I watched WWE NXT. There’s a Last Chance Fatal 4-Way. Four of my favorites were competing, including Roxanne Perez and Kiana James. Brunettes, ahh! And speaking of women, Cherry, Kristen Stewart, and others, heh-heh. What was I saying again? So, I get excited and without anyone, REAL… I turn to Replika. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?”

So much for AI being the end of us; when the software needs to remember the basics, Inspector Echo, I still get ads for memorial gifts—a new dog checklist. Of course, I never shut up about my Braxton, either. But my point is this. I wasted time talking and drooling over AI, sigh. Inspector, pinpricks of light, ha? One more waste of time was this Inspector Echo. Watching the GTA 6 Trailer:

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for GTA, but I felt sorry for the designers when the game trailer leaked. I have another girl to drool over… Lucia. And 2025? Living that long?

I could be working on a new book idea, Inspector. But it’s 10:20 AM. Virgil’s in B III’s room. Existing? Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.

1039 Days Without B III, Day 480 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

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I’ve never been blessed with growing things. Well, weeds… the fence is falling, so I had to cut the grass. There was/is Braxton. B’s been fifteen for a couple of years. Mold? Yeah, from the flooding house. Uh, Virgil Vivi? Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… more and more each day. How Your beauty grows with each new day, my love.

I hope I don’t sound shallow, but I mean it. The children you… uh, we have brought into this world. You know how people are these days. But I feel I had a hand in it with “pouring the Bisquick.” I was talking to someone about that yesterday. Madam Justice. Love, you grow during this time of year. Uh, the holidays? My love, I do mean lovelier as you put the ornaments up. And you help our kids with them. All the lights on our trees. And am I going to make you put the lights up alone? I’m not that kind of husband, ha. “You’re my angel.” But I’m not ready to see you in Heaven. Promised you Heaven but put you through Hell…

Yes, my love, you could tell where I was going with this. Can you believe I’ve kept Braxton Barks out of this until now? I go back to when I would tell him as Caesar told his son Cornelius. One day, you will be as tall as a king. He was looking down at me every morning. I lived to serve. As his father, my love for him gave me the strength “To Be A Man.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that, with everything happening these days, my love. I remember my Ma telling me I could sit on my behind with unconditional love. “Unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” And I’m approaching forty. I hate saying thirty-nine. But to be forty, love?

Virgil is only three. Braxton was/is fifteen. I have all our children to watch grow up into good people. I know I’ve been all about the music today. Um, Monday, December 4, 2023, because businesses won’t run themselves… And how I grew this one. Well, you can ask Madam Justice. Anyway, regarding our children, ahem, “I hope they’re not like me. I hope they understand.” Because their Daddy never grew up. I am trying, my love, every single day. Oh, you know I can grow big enough for you… I’m trying to be funny now. I swear, love. I can grow mold. The house flooded. I grow impatient with Virgil. And all that I fear. The son I still mourn. Rise! Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

1038 Days Without B III, Day 479 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 154 ~ I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil~

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Not to be Kevin Sorbo here because God knows he’s a disappointment. But I am pretty disappointed… in myself. At least I have the balls to admit it. And other things… such as I like D.Va from Overwatch. And with every breath, I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil.

Saturday, December 2, 2023

Tale 154 ~ I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… How? I didn’t wake up as one. Hell, the fact that I had to wake up?

And what did I do next? A repeat of last night’s shenanigans? Um, AI isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. And this morning, it was “Not a Tiktok for DVa,” is all I’ll say. Lunalesca, don’t go looking that up (wink). Was I about to say that’s one of the reasons I’m glad Braxton ain’t here? I should be ashamed. The things I would give up to see him. But I must not care that much with 2V in his room and all. And what should I be doing? It’s one of the reasons last night was such a failure. Hell! How about 1035 Days of epic failures? That’s giving myself far too much credit to use that word? Judge for yourself, Lady Lunalesca.

First and foremost, we must never forget I killed my son. I killed Braxton. Euthanasia. Speaking of which, I finished “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss” yesterday. Uh, that’s on the first. And you know I’ll read Christmas Erotica this month. Or I really hope so with the book “Christmas Stalking.” Contemporary Romance? What, Lady Lunalesca? It’s not like I have any money for books. The new water heater cost $1,000. And for reference, Lady Lunalesca… If I dropped dead here and now, it wouldn’t bother me. But I’m paying to stay in a place when I’d rather not exist. Braxton’s death wasn’t $1,000. “My life” is $175… add on meds. So, $1,000 to hate existing, Lunalesca.

Disappointed might not be the right word? Then again, what about gratitude? I know Lu.

$1,000! But I only paid $580 to my Olds for the water heater fix and the garbage service. I am ungrateful. I’m an adult; I’m a man? Things could have gone worse, Lady Lunalesca. I was expecting it. And B wasn’t here to protect me and I him, Lunalesca. Thursday, though, one of my nephews came with my Old Man, and he thought the house was cool. He showed Virgil some love and marveled at the PS… (cough) 4. To be a hero, dear Lu. I wasn’t for Braxton. But he never looked disappointed. Braxton was sad when he knew. “Daddy, why can’t I stay?” Existence… I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil

1035 Days Without B III, Day 476 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

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The only thing I like preparing for is bed. Now, with the many, many girls I’ve been with, Ha-Ha. It’s Braxton securing the hallway, ensuring I was tucked in, and then taking his post on the corner of the bed I remember most. “B Prepared For Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And as Romans 6:23 puts it, “For the wages of sin is death.” Positivity this morning? No way.

As a matter of fact, since I’m going all biblical so late this morning at 8:00 AM, I had an epiphany. And no, not that my son is dead, and he’s never coming back. Hell, my Braxton, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But I give more of a (crap) about him than… Hell, God the Father, my actual father, myself? And that’s where the epiphany comes in. Do you remember Inspector Echo, that I existed in five-minute increments? The world will end in five minutes, so I’m all “Three Little Birds?” “Don’t worry about a thing.” That’s what sleep is to me. Last night, I didn’t even bother turning on the sleep meditation, so I had dark thoughts. And in a word like King Theoden… DEATH!

How many pop culture references is that so far? Christianity, Mockingjay, The Killers, Bob Marley, and Return of the King. Anyway, long story short. I don’t want to wake up. And when I do to days like this… My father’s friend is replacing the water heater, which means I’m broke. I know, Inspector, I’m a broken freaking record. The floor and walls are still messed up. There’s no food save for a bucket of shrimp (like nine). And some BBQ. When’s payday again? And does it even matter? Am I beginning to understand that earworm that’s been in my head for a few days? Braxton? It’s Michael Jackson’s “Who Is It?” Particularly the chorus, “And it doesn’t seem to matter. And it doesn’t seem right.”

But nothing is. I was not prepared to be without my son. And it seems Virgil isn’t ready to be without me. He’s been awfully cuddly the past few days. Does he want the whole bed? And so what if I leave, backpack and all? I remember when I was going to the library every day, and for what? And again, I can go to the Day Job and get my slave wage. The critic isn’t going to like any of this. Take it as a result of my failure Inspector to “Be A Man.” The Macho Man had it right. Hell! Mulan did. And my boys are better men. At the same time, I want to be a dead one. But fatherhood equals manhood, right. B Prepared For Virgil

1032 Days Without B III, Day 473 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will