22
It is January and the sky is a vibrant blue today. Not something we often see here in Oregon in the dead of winter. There is a cold wind blowing the clouds and rain away, rain that would remind me of that day 22 years ago when I said goodbye.
I don’t want to always feel sad on this day, and yet I do. I feel sad that as I watch my girl play he’s not there to chase her around the house or terrify her with stories of bugs and wild animals, as he used to do with my… Continue reading
One Year Later
I moved my last post back to the draft folder. I was hesitant to publish it at all, even privately, and bare myself so completely as to the struggle of emotions.
Those of you who read and as usual, supported me, thank you. Your words mean so much and I feel each one of them as a warm embrace.
The sheer act of writing has brought about some form of catharsis. The emotions have shifted to something different, less intense and not quite as crushing.
Life and the act of living it never ceases to ebb and flow. The waters… Continue reading
When Words Are Too Much Work
Some days it’s a struggle to even reply to an email, much less start one. Some days I look at the text message on my phone and wonder how long I can ignore it.
It’s not that I don’t want to talk. It’s that using my words is too hard some days. If you’ve never experienced it, you’re unlikely to understand it.
It’s not a cataclysmic event propelling me into a place of quiet. It can be old memories flooding back, creeping into corners I thought had been cleared out.
Small things, little things. Mundane life, death, grief, panic,… Continue reading
Marilou
When I saw it sitting on the shelf, my hand reached out for it automatically, almost as if that appendage had a mind of its own.
It reminded me of her, that bar of Ivory soap. The scent that would linger on pillows and bedsheets and my shoulder after a hug. The scent that enveloped her skin, bare, as she leaned over a basin while I rinsed her hair, her gnarled hands reaching up every so often to check my progress. “Nope, I still feel some, right here”.
She lived with us, practically, for so much of my childhood. I… Continue reading
On Changes
There is a moment each morning when I awake, before my eyes open, that I don’t remember.
Then I peer out at my surroundings and through the fog my brain registers the difference.
The walls are different now, the bed seems taller, but it’s just that the ceiling is much closer than before.
My feet hit a cold, hardwood floor, instead of carpet. It’s a slightly longer walk to the bathroom.
There is quiet. Even in the early morning, when the sounds of soft toddler slumber are floating in the air over the monitor, there is so much quiet. Only… Continue reading
Backwards Forwards
Ava likes to play a little game with her Grandma. She runs forward then lurches backward. It’s a teaching moment, to learn what backwards and forward mean. It makes her smile and giggle in the process, which of course, is the best way to learn.
Every single day, people ask me how I am doing. Am I ok? Most days, I can honestly tell you, yes, I am. I am ok. Don’t get me wrong. I have moments, hours, sometimes, days where I falter. I get scared. I worry about the future. I have times when I wonder, maybe we… Continue reading
Memories on a Map
The highway dips under a train track. For as long as I can remember the sensation of that sudden downward movement made my stomach flip every time we drove that way. The low bridge sign always made my minds eye envision a truck getting wedged under the bridge. Up the road there are raised strips on the pavement to let you know you are getting close to a 4 way stop sign. In summer it was always shady, thanks to oak trees and pine trees filtering the light.
Then there is the hill that runs through the center of town. … Continue reading
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