It's getting closer and closer to meltdown time, I'm afraid....
Taylor's grave marker was purchased in April. It was approved the first of June. I understand I took a long time. I understand these things take time. In the beginning of July, I got a call that it would be ready that week. I was surprised at how quickly it was ready. I wasn't ready, but I dealt with it. This was happening. Only... apparently it wasn't. It's now September. I'm still hearing it's going to be ready this week and I'm ready to scream. I can't cope with the limbo anymore it's making me sick to my stomach.
I called him yet again yesterday. So... status? "The next few days." I wanted to let him have it, I wanted to scream at him to stop fucking saying that. I'm so sick of hearing it. Professional me should have demanding a date, after which I would require a full refund and possibly interest. Professional me should have known his contracts better than him and have had him begging me to just go somewhere else whilst throwing my money back at me. But instead of my normal mater-of-fact arguments, I sounded like the sad desperate BLM I am, at least part of the time. "But you telling me that is breaking my heart. Please, if it's going to be months, tell me months, just don't leave me here wondering. Don't promise me you'll call in a few days only to have another week and a half go by. Please just tell me the truth. I don't like calling you. It makes me sad."
This broken-hearted plea wasn't really effective. He promised to call me back yesterday, this morning at the latest. I could call back. I could search for a resolution, I could call the suppliers myself, I could get out of the contract, order a new stone. I could do so many things. but my beef isn't really with the guy who sells gravestones. Successfully getting a grave stone for your baby doesn't seem like any kind of victory I'm interested in achieving.
Because really, I don't want her fucking grave marker. I want her.