It's that Time Again

 We've hit that time of year again. I survived the second anniversary of Mom's death. And now my Facebook memories are starting with the constant updates of Dad's progression through the hospital. From now until July I will be reminded on a continual basis of That Time. I could just not look at the reminders, but I won't. It's like poking a bruise. You know it will ache, that the poke will make the throbbing more intense, yet you can't seem to stop pestering it. Just to make sure it's still real. It isn't just discoloration - the hurt goes deeper than the surface. You have to be sure it causes pain. Looking back now will still bring me to tears. I still miss mom every day. The hole she left behind isn't so jagged any more. Maybe all of those tears smoothed away the worst of the sharpness and made it easier to bear. Or maybe just living each day one after another forces you to accept the changes.  I went back and read some of my writing from the early

Snowy Days

 There are words swirling in my head. Twisting and twirling Drifting like the snowflakes On the gusts outside. There is a sense of melancholy  Wrapped in anticipation. Pictures forming of what might have been What could have been Maybe even what should have been. Fully formed for mere moments Then eroded  The footsteps through the snow. I look at my reflection and I see I see what they see. Just enough of you to wonder. To remember and to wish Memories that will flash and be captured A perfectly formed snowflake  Caught on a sleeve Melting into a drop of water. Almost recognized, almost seen Becoming some other thing. Smiles, hugs Laughter. The day after. Unable to hold on to those snapshots of yesterday. I miss you the most on days after When the wind blows When others look at me And look for you. An ache of what we all lost. That we had to give you back too soon.

Tis the Season

 Y'all I am NOT in the Christmas spirit. I am cranky. Yesterday was a gloriously beautiful day. My perfect kind of day. Sunny but not eye searing sunny. Breezy and chilly. The kind of day that lets you mix sneakers and wool accessories and be comfortable. But I was at work so I worked. Then came home and did what felt like a zillion household chores. I had made a to do list on my lunch break. And it made me more than a little cranky. I've been asked what I want for Christmas. What do I want for Christmas? I want a maid. I want to come home and my dishes to magically already be clean. I want laundry to not be sitting in the dryer or in baskets in the laundry room. I want the clutter to already be organized and put away. I want space for bookshelves. I want to not have decision fatigue and it rear its ugly head when I'm asked yet again what the plan is for dinners this week.  Adulting is hard. And yet I'm beyond lucky to have a roof over my head and a job to go to every d


 My primary coping mechanism is Compartmentalizing. My conscious mind is full of neat little shapes that fit the areas of my life. Family occupies their shape, friends have theirs, work has another, the books I read have their own area, my crafts another, emotions that belong solely to me have another that is somewhere in the middle. There are other areas I'm probably forgetting. The borders are not thick and impenetrable. There are air holes allowing some crossover. If I picture what this would look like to an outsider it's somewhere between a Zentangle and a Tetris board.  During my normal day to day life, I jump back and forth between these areas, problem solving and feeling and planning. But if I have to focus on one or the other I tend to do my best to shove the other areas back in their predetermined spaces so I deal with the area in front of my face. If I need to work through a problem, I like to do mindless tasks so my brain can untangle problems. I knit or clean or org

We Are All Tired But It's OK

 I woke up this morning and I just feel tired. Tired in my bones. I'm on another quarantine. And I'm here to tell you that I'm straight out over it. I'm a homebody by nature. My hobbies and interests are primarily solitary activities that require no social interaction. I like nothing better than reading a good book or crafting something with yarn or thread. I have a stash of crafting supplies that is almost  embarrassing. I have the luxury of being able to work from home when needed. So when one of my children got sick, I was exposed to her and we are waiting on test results and a quarantine was decided to be the best bet - it's not really that big of a deal, right? Well you would think not. Except the second I'm told I can't, or shouldn't do something, my desire to be contrary rises to the surface and all of a sudden I come up with eleventy billion reasons to leave my house. It's like that teenage rebellion was never completely squelched. I've d

Grief is sneaky

I woke up crying for the first time in a very long time. I was dreaming. My whole extended family was first in a home that doesn't actually belong to anyone I know, but it was supposed to, and there was all kinds of the normal gossip that surrounds family gatherings. Lots of food. Gatherings in groups. Weird things that should never happen in real life but happen in dreams. Then the scenes changed and all of a sudden the family is all in some type of place for an event. And it seems like a birthday party. But it isn't. But it should be. And there's a disagreement over the treatment of homegrown vegetables and their use as fertilizer in a garden. And then my mom is angry that I won't eat a ham and cheese sandwich my husband got for me. Even though he knows I hate ham and cheese. He got me two different types to try. She says she hates ham and cheese too. And then it hits me that everything is wrong. It's all so wrong. Because my mom loves ham and cheese. And while sh

One Year Later

I've been dreading this day. I knew today would have a notification that would pop up telling me I had Facebook memories. I knew I wouldn't be able to resist looking. I knew I would cry. And I did exactly that. But I managed to wait until after 8pm to give in. I already knew what the memories would show me. It was one year ago today that I started living a life that was so much different. One without my mom physically present. Today marks the day that the Facebook memories will start changing. For the next three months I will see memories that will show me the journey that almost took my dad too. And for the last 2 weeks I've been antsy and emotional. Living through a quarantine doesn't help. I'm not a patient person. And I like to just push through hard things when I can. This is another First. And I want it to be over. I want the next few months to be over too. Mother's Day and Mom and Dad's anniversary and Mom's Birthday. And the Facebook memories