There is a pain so utter that it swallows substance up
Then covers the abyss with trance—
So memory can step around—across—upon it
As one within a swoon goes safely where an open-eye would drop him—
—Bone by bone
~Emily Dickinson
To experience pain, one knows they are alive…I either came up with that or read it somewhere. Continue reading
Seven years, five months, fifteen days. That is how old she would be today. I usually don’t know that off the top of my head, unless it’s on the 21st (her birthday was June 21, 2009). However, it is something I can come up with rather quickly. Any parent who lost their child can. It’s a thing. Continue reading
I wrote this September 2, 2015 Continue reading
I feel. So fucking much. All the time. And I so wish I didn’t. Because it really fucking hurts sometimes. And I gotta say, I am really fucking sick and tired of my heart hurting. I wish sometimes I was not that which I am. But try as I might, I cannot be anything else. Continue reading
I wrote this on July 4, 2016 while sitting in a pine forest, watching the animals flit about and came across this tiny, determined ant climbing straight up this huge tree…
an ant climbing a full grown pine like my struggle to get through the days with the complexity of my emotions i've learned to distance away from them the basics sometimes taking so much time and energy where does it go the subconscious robbing like a blind thief in the night my meager reserves adrenaline continuously pumping through nonstop for 2+ years now trying to live not just exist find moments of joy hopping rock to rock within the pond unsteady underfoot avoiding waters unknown these moments of pure peace and joy so infrequent i am like a drowning vicitm fighting for a breath give me more addictive like heroin coursing endorphins through me seeking that high anywhere and how dangerous lines needing to watch be diligent wanting to let go be caught and cared for realizing yet again it must come from within the resolve to live unknown path varied terrain adapting changing striving to hold on to those few and precious times of the calm ocean before the stormy waves of reality come crashing into your psyche threatening to crumble down these precarious moments holding me together grasping to hold on
As I sat in the coffee shop that I normally write in, I pondered what to share today. Usually it comes to me on my morning run, but today, it did not, I was preoccupied with the election. The sky is one of those brilliant blues that have been rare here lately, so I was gazing outside lost in the birds flitting around, the contrast of the trees against this bright backdrop pondering the importance of today, being election day, and the angst among the people leading up to and including today. I am actually less anxious about the actual results today, but what weighs heavily in my mind is the rift that has happened in our country. Continue reading
It used to be one of my favorite holidays. I have memories of my dad going upstate and getting my mom some of the biggest pumpkins ever. She would take so much joy intricately carving those, decorating the house, buying a new “creepy” thing each year to add to her collection. She reveled in each of the costumed children that came to the door, particularly the littles. One of the things I “got” from her was a love of this day. Jesse loved it as well. For many years, we were the creepiest house on the block by far. Continue reading
There was a time in my life when being alone was a scarce occurrence. After being married and having two young children, I craved the silence that occurs after everyone is finally asleep at night. Then it changed. It all changed. Continue reading
From July 3 2016
The other night, I was open and vulnerable with someone, so hard to do intimately now, well, always, but especially now, in a more honest straight forward way.
Later on, I heard a Joni Mitchell song, “Both Sides Now.” It made me think of Bella. And just like that another layer flew off like a hummingbird taking flight. That layer, because there are so many, so distinct, left me on the floor, a place I am so intimate with in these moments with her. Continue reading
When one is faced with living with the mind numbing horrific trauma that I have seen, one learns to distract themselves.
At first, when everything is fresh, you walk around like a zombie (which after seeing dead bodies, you really don’t ever want to see a picture of a zombie or have to explain to someone why you cannot watch The Walking Dead). You do random things, like clean the kitchen, organize a box, pay bills. This is like the next day. Because you cannot sit still. Your brain is trying to wrap itself around what happened and it can’t, because it is so fucking unbelievable. A quote that I heard after was “you cannot make sense out of something that never will make sense” plays around, because we are mostly rational in our day to day. We want to understand, make sense of things. And this, this thing, you cannot. Continue reading
