My Life as a Mom, Writer, Runner, and Lover of Food
I am this close to giving up on people entirely.
Did you pray for me today?
Someone said my my name
And I felt it.
Heard it in my soul.
It was 4:21 in the afternoon
Just leaving the market
Telling myself to keep my head up
So much easier said than done.
So,
Thank you.
For whispering my name
Mentioning my plight
To the heavens
May the stars sprinkle blessings
On you tonight.
I woke up choking
I haven’t had one in so long
A panic attack
A big one
Just like old times
But worse.
Woke up,
Leapt out of bed,
Shaking,
Pacing
Crying in spurts
Gasping for air
Screaming for you.
Bonmama!
Mama,
Please.
I miss you so much
It’s hard to breathe –
Hard to live.
I don’t want to do this.
Please come back
Wake me up.
Tell me I was dreaming.
I miss you so much
It’s hard to breathe.
Generally speaking,
I can see deception.
The way it slides across a person’s face when they aren’t sure whether it’s me or themselves they need to believe it.
I feel lies.
There’s a little spot in the center of my chest, not centered horizontally or vertically but more like in the center of my heart space. Like a stud in the wall of a building. It vibrates or burns when I know something is false.
I can hear falsehood.
That ever-so-subtle, nearly imperceptible rise or fall in the pitch of a person’s voice when they’re on the telephone with someone secret, or someone they don’t like.
I dream about betrayal.
I knew Voldemort was cheating on me long before he knew I knew. I even knew as it was happening.
So it’s funny when a person I know well tells me a story. Funny amusing and funny sad. It’s like when Wile E. Coyote paints a tunnel on the side of a mountain to trick the road runner and then, instead, gets hit by a train.
I really just wrote this out to describe a little of my non-human, human experience.
Some people say that when loved ones die we (wrongly) anoint them to god or saint status. Fair argument. But what is a saint, except a human who loved others exceptionally well? What is a god, except an extraterrestrial being who guides, assists, blesses, fights for, loves?
And besides my very valid questions above, I completely disagree.
I may be the only person who thinks the way I do about it, but that’s ok with me, it’s nothing new.
If every interaction we have with every person we come in contact with is an energy exchange, positive or negative, it stands to reason that I am justified in my aching. From the barista in the drive-thru at Starbucks to our most intimate relations, everything is an energy exchange. I’ve written before about how I think we all start as solid pieces, solid colors, and (hopefully) when we die, our souls are more like tile mosaics, made up of all the beautiful and challenging interactions we’ve had with others on this planet.
So, assuming for a moment this theory of mine as true, it would mean that there are not one, not a few, but several pieces of me that contain your energy. That are you. If we were able to actually count and calculate the exchanges we have had, from my birth until now, and then quantify the effect they’ve had on me – my personality, my beliefs, my heart, even my manner of speaking or way of looking at the world – what percentage of me would they make up?
[On the other hand, of course, that would mean that parts of you (perhaps the same amount) are me. Your mosaic contains me.]
Now that you’ve moved from the physical and you exist in the ether, the parts of me that are you are pulling, like magnets, for all the other parts. I think they are on a specific frequency. I could feel you when you were here on the earthly plane with me and I can feel your absence since you’ve departed. I feel it physically, in my body, down to my cells, in my very soul.
That, for me, is why the depth of pain makes perfect sense to me. Why the words and tears pour out at all hours of the day and night. Why it hurts when I breathe, and sleep, and perform any function that is a part of my human experience. Part of me is not having the human experience anymore. A large part, if my theory is correct. It’s floating around somewhere, eternal and timeless and perfect, and I will not be whole again until I reconnect with it. With you.
I completely understand why someone who isn’t in touch with energy or who doesn’t feel things the way I do might see my grief and judge me for worshiping you. I also don’t care. How fortunate are they to be so ignorant. How fortunate am I to have this power, this love. (For some reason the movie Starman comes to mind whenever I think about this – how, for a human I am sometimes not very human.)
Oh, please help me continue to move forward, for however many more steps I must take until I get there. Help me make something meaningful of this life.
I wear this necklace often.
Took me a long time to decide to buy it, because of the price. I wanted it for years. Finally I decided to “splurge” just once. It’s my nicest piece of jewelry.
It’s gold, like the coin you gave me. I’m sorry I left it in Florida. My head wasn’t on right. Anyway it’s round and gold and it has sacred letters on it. Three of the 72 Hebrew names of god. It is beautiful and magical, and I feel beautiful and magical when I have it on.
I was planning to show it to you, but I never got to ask what you thought of it. Even before that awful day, we weren’t allowed to come over because of the virus.
I ended every single phone call with you with a proclamation and request. I told you I thought about you every day, all the time, and that I loved you so much, and that just because I didn’t call so much didn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about you. Loving you. You would always answer, “Moi aussi.”
My heart swells like a balloon and then bursts again every time I think of it. We had a bond and I know I am as special to you as you are to me, but I struggle with why I didn’t spend every minute by your side. I would have.
I’m trying so hard not to hate myself. I love you. I love you.
Did you know Blue Tansy oil is actually blue? I didn’t. I am using it in the diffuser for the first time today, with a bit of Spearmint. It smells fresh. Medicinal. You’d like it, I think. It reminds me of the eucalyptus tree in your back yard.
As I was loading the diffuser I had a funny idea. Big Red scent. You kept Big Red gum in a white carafe with a red lid. If you chewed gum, that was the one you preferred, though I think you really kept it there for the cinnamon smell. I also loved the smell of it. I chew Big Red sometimes myself.
Today I miss you so much, so badly, I just want to sit here and type. It feels like I’m leaving you voicemails, like a desperate ex-lover just praying you’ll hear them and feel sorry for me and call.
I am so hurt you haven’t come to me in my dreams yet. I was so certain you would, stronger and more often than any of the others because you are you and we are we. I don’t understand why you won’t come.
Migraine with aura, by the way. The fireworks in my head for the last 3 days. It sounds so much more magical than it feels.
Instagram flagged my post because it violates their standards. People have ribs. It’s not an eating disorder. It’s grief. I’m sure it’s also dehydration. I keep forgetting water. I heard your laugh in my head just now. Water is for the fishes! I broke down at that.
I have that piece of paper – what’s it called? From the World’s Worst Funeral. It’s under my pillow. There’s a little black and white picture of you that must have been chosen by someone who didn’t know you, because it doesn’t look like you at all. Under the picture, your date of birth and a dash and your date of rebirth. I’m obsessed with that dash. That dash is everything. Every night I slide my hand under my pillow and I touch the paper and I think of you.
My book challenge has gone all to hell. I haven’t read more than 30 pages in a couple weeks. 2 to go until my goal for the year. It may actually take me the rest of the year.
Did you see the house in Nice? The one by the ocean? Help me get there, will you? I will live there, and float out on the balcony in my chemise, and drink in the sun and the sounds of the ocean and I will be you and I will be me, I will be both of us, enchanted and enchanting, in that beautiful place.
I am afraid that you haven’t left anything for me. I am hopeful there is a letter, or a dress, or something that you knew I would need. Something to hold on to, something to remember, to trace my fingers over, to lie next to while I pretend to sleep.
Why does it suck so much today?
Another night of not-quite-sleeping. I laid on the floor and cried and missed you.
Woke up thinking about the lyrics to a Bon Jovi song…
I’ll be there til the stars won’t shine,
Til the heavens burst
And the words don’t rhyme
I know when I die, you’ll be on my mind
And I love you
Always
I don’t even have to guess at this one.
