Tangled Grrl

 My mind is swirling with words again. So much has happened in the last few months that I often wonder if I have time to breathe. November 15 I said out loud I wanted a divorce. I applied for an apartment the same day. I moved out on December 10. Since then my life has been filled with changes and decisions. My job has kept me plenty busy as well.  I've always liked being alone. It's the way I have been able to feel energized again. I love people, but I love them the most when I get time away. And this is the first time in my entire life I have ever lived alone.  It's been an interesting journey so far. There have been nights of loneliness. Moments where the silence was too loud and I wanted to drown it with the sounds of others. Random musings, the sound of drawers being opened and closed. Sighs. Footsteps. And I realized I craved those sounds only because I was uncomfortable and wanted to be able to blame my bad mood on someone else. That night I leaned into the lonely....

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...

I've been making a lot of new things lately. I made my first real honest garment this past weekend. A pair of flannel pajama pants. And I sewed another project bag from my scribbled notes, just to see if I could make sense of what I had done last time. And every time I manage to make something new, or create something, or navigate a new skill, I really want to call my mom and tell her about it. It's what I would have done every single time I finished any new project of any complexity. I would have spammed her phone with pictures or FaceTimed her. I would have bored her to tears with the technicalities and she would have let me just because she was proud of the joy it brought me. And if I'm being honest, most of my surge of creativity is my need for distraction. It's a need to be busy. To stay focused and pour my need to do something into something that has a tangibility to it. So I'm knitting, weaving, sewing and crocheting all of the time. I'm making things...

Another year older. Another milestone passed. Dad and I were having a conversation the other day that for right now we are having to go through all these new "Firsts." We did the first Mother's Day, her birthday, my sister's birthday, my brother's birthday. Now I've had to do my birthday. I wonder if they will get easier. Because these new firsts? They suck. I was never horribly into birthday celebrations for myself. I prefer to just spend the day doing what I want, which mostly means some type of solitary activity. I want to pick a meal I like, not do dishes and then something crafty or read. I don't need a tiara or expensive gifts. I'm not a big fan of cake and I don't need a surprise party or a room full of people. And this year I really just wanted the day to pass me by. I wanted to get through it as quickly as possible so I could say I survived it. I knew I was going to get a notification of last year's Facebook post by my mom. I kne...