Every once and a while it is time to clean all the things. Part of it is leaving mom and dad’s place and seeing all the memory laden things there. Mom is talking selling the house in time. It’s okay, they are only things. We have memory enough. Makes my own place feel h e a v y. Too much. Still purging and rearranging.
21 days to make something a habit. Game on. Stretches the hand; rubs the wrist. Nothing there to limber one’s mind. The going answer to “How are you?” has been, “Creaky.” Everything. All the joints. Thoughts skip like a scratched record. (Do they know what that sounds like? Have they ever touched one? Played one?) It’s noise. White noise. Fits with the snow and freakin’ brrrr. They’re related, I’m sure. …
Right. Tabla rasa. New Year. Figure out the title after I figure out what I’m doing. But then again, that’s a bit of life right there, isn’t it? Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone… Christmas was good. I mean, it really was great to hang out with my brother and sisters. We had a video chat with Beau and met …
Everything comes and goes just like lovers and styles of clothes Joni Mitchell runs through my head. It all comes down to you.
What to say? I made longanisa the other day and found myself singing Longanisa…Longanisa…men have named you…(to the tune of Mona Lisa) And I remember dad singing that. He loved Nat King Cole. And it wasn’t sad — a happy memory. Thanks, dad. Wrapping my head around aging and mortality. Meanwhile, Jordan is 9 months old today. Beau and Emily; Andy and Kimberly are expecting babies any day now. Jake …
With the changing weather, the hip aches and the leg gives out in unexpected bursts. Holidays approach and I think of dad often. It sneaks up on me in the way I groan in the morning. Geez, just vacuuming the house — because that was his thing. Sometimes it is okay, but more often I am sad still. i chock this up to hormones, and weather, and a creaky body, …
Still cooking. Vibe check.
Basics: fed and watered. The sun shines. I can feel the bobbing of this uncertain sea. When I come to the surface, I breathe in and if – if – I can stay on the surface a while, I remember I am breathing and isn’t it pleasant to have the sun on my face and how cool is it not to be drowning? I have been more me this last …
