COFFEEEEEEE!!!! *laughs*
Beloved helped clean the floors (my *least* favorite job) and I knocked out the rest of the chores...so the house is happy clean!
It's a beautiful day today and I'm going to finish some planting and mowing the backyard. I am so very excited about the work I've put in...the veggie plants are due to arrive in two weeks and I need to carve out the box for the peas.
I'm looking forward to a quiet evening with Beloved...maybe even dinner out????
Drum circle is tomorrow OUTSIDE, and it's GOING to be sunny and about 70F! (Don't fuck me over, Mother Nature...we've broken records for rain in April...let the last day be dry, dry, dry...please?!?!)
I've got my plans for SJW in order, although I still need to pick up a key ingredient for my lotion (has anyone ever had problems traveling with essential oils? From what I've read online, my little .25oz bottles shouldn't be a problem, but that's my only concern. Sandalwood is too expensive to just surrender .5oz!)
I've put in a few more job applications, although I should probably give more time to looking at school programs...
(*sigh* I'm a little hyper, I guess...damn it. I don't much like the drastic mood swings...)
Friday, April 29, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Simple fixes
Yesterday was yucky, nasty, hard. It didn't help that the kids were a handful through the afternoon.
But it is amazing what a simple fix of Beloved coming home and excusing me after supper is. I went up to the bedroom at 6:30pm and was asleep for the night by 7:30pm, getting twelve hours of sleep.
I don't like losing my evening with Beloved, but sometimes that is what has to happen. Beloved is just plain amazing about it, too. He is my hero, every day, for giving me permission to take care of myself when I so desperately need it.
On top of that, he helped the kids make a card for me that says "We love you Momma" and there's a dozen roses on the dining room table this morning. *squish*
But it is amazing what a simple fix of Beloved coming home and excusing me after supper is. I went up to the bedroom at 6:30pm and was asleep for the night by 7:30pm, getting twelve hours of sleep.
I don't like losing my evening with Beloved, but sometimes that is what has to happen. Beloved is just plain amazing about it, too. He is my hero, every day, for giving me permission to take care of myself when I so desperately need it.
On top of that, he helped the kids make a card for me that says "We love you Momma" and there's a dozen roses on the dining room table this morning. *squish*
Monday, April 25, 2011
Yup, it's a Monday...
This is a rant entry. Grab your salt-shaker.
I don't DO mornings. Really, not my thing. Maybe once upon a time they were...I remember enjoying my 8am classes in college and teasing my friends about being lazy...but that was also back when I relied on afternoon naps and sleeping through the weekend. Now? Not so much.
(Which is part of my IMMEDIATE problem: it is not yet 8am, Girl is screaming at me, and I've been "abandoned" by Beloved who has work. I've gulped two cups of coffee, and I'm praying I can get through the rest of the day despite already feeling wound up tight.)
After Boy was whisked off to school and Girl started demanding, I said something like, "Looks like it's gonna be a hard day...Run away!" to Beloved, who gave me a sad smile and said he'd trade me...be the stay-at-home dad and let me deal with office BS.
(Which is another part of the problem...neither one of us are at all happy with the current stations in life, but we feel completely trapped. We live hand-to-mouth on his paychecks and childcare is so expensive that it's financially better if I stay home...)
Beloved commented that at least I have some authority over the people I'm supposed to be managing.
(Which soooooo isn't true. Sure, I can enforce time-outs, give spankings, walk away, but the emotional cost of enforcing my authority is steep! Add to that, if we are in public, there is the public judge: "Oh my god, why can't she shut her kids up...control her kids...leave the kids at home...etc.?")
I suggested Beloved hand my resume off to his headhunter people. I don't know how those things work, but I've had lame luck job-hunting on my own and insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results. That got us started on the old talk of "what do you want to do?" and "what are your goals for working outside the house?" and choices, choices, choices.
(Which is another part of the problem...I'm grateful for the choices...I'm very, very lucky to have so many choices. The problem is that I accepted the social brainwashing that as a modern woman, I'm supposed to "do it all", and that's an expectation, not a CHOICE. Hold a career, have smart, well-mannered kids, a clean house, healthy dinners on the table every night, and homemade costumes, cupcakes, etc. The expectations are insane. Seeing my sister and cousin at Easter brunch, both who have new babies, who are working full-time and claim to love motherhood and get all dewy-eyed looking at their babies made me recoil and feel sick inside. What does it say about ME if motherhood doesn't entirely fulfill me?)
I almost kicked Beloved out the door. I felt judged as he watched my interactions with Girl, as he told me how I should customize my resume for every job I'm interested in, as he explained that if all I wanted was to get away from the house then what I was looking for was a tolerable position rather than being picky.
(Which I chafe at...my current working conditions are substandard. I have no sick days or vacation days, and the ones that I do secure, I feel riddled with guilt because I'm asking Beloved to give up HIS time so that I can have time or because I'm saddling someone else with my kids or because I'm so desperate that I actually PAY someone to take my kids for an hour. On top of that, my job "reviews" are offered up several times a day by little bosses who tell me I'm a "mean Mommma" and "I hate you" because I limit the candy, television, toy purchases, etc. Being told that all I'm looking for is a tolerable position hurts...mostly because it says that means motherhood is intolerable and what does that say about me...?)
When Beloved called five minutes later, beginning with, "I don't know why I didn't think of this before!" *sigh* He sounded so excited, so pleased to have come up with a solution, and I was a bitch. "You're trying to FIX it, and I can't deal with that right now." *winces* Yeah. But I can't. It's not even 8am, Girl is screaming, and I'm riddled with guilt for wanting to hide from all the choices and pressure. I've had all the choices in the world, so if I'm not happy with my life it is my own damn fault, right? Just go the fuck away, world!
*sigh*
Yup, it's a Monday...
I don't DO mornings. Really, not my thing. Maybe once upon a time they were...I remember enjoying my 8am classes in college and teasing my friends about being lazy...but that was also back when I relied on afternoon naps and sleeping through the weekend. Now? Not so much.
(Which is part of my IMMEDIATE problem: it is not yet 8am, Girl is screaming at me, and I've been "abandoned" by Beloved who has work. I've gulped two cups of coffee, and I'm praying I can get through the rest of the day despite already feeling wound up tight.)
After Boy was whisked off to school and Girl started demanding, I said something like, "Looks like it's gonna be a hard day...Run away!" to Beloved, who gave me a sad smile and said he'd trade me...be the stay-at-home dad and let me deal with office BS.
(Which is another part of the problem...neither one of us are at all happy with the current stations in life, but we feel completely trapped. We live hand-to-mouth on his paychecks and childcare is so expensive that it's financially better if I stay home...)
Beloved commented that at least I have some authority over the people I'm supposed to be managing.
(Which soooooo isn't true. Sure, I can enforce time-outs, give spankings, walk away, but the emotional cost of enforcing my authority is steep! Add to that, if we are in public, there is the public judge: "Oh my god, why can't she shut her kids up...control her kids...leave the kids at home...etc.?")
I suggested Beloved hand my resume off to his headhunter people. I don't know how those things work, but I've had lame luck job-hunting on my own and insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results. That got us started on the old talk of "what do you want to do?" and "what are your goals for working outside the house?" and choices, choices, choices.
(Which is another part of the problem...I'm grateful for the choices...I'm very, very lucky to have so many choices. The problem is that I accepted the social brainwashing that as a modern woman, I'm supposed to "do it all", and that's an expectation, not a CHOICE. Hold a career, have smart, well-mannered kids, a clean house, healthy dinners on the table every night, and homemade costumes, cupcakes, etc. The expectations are insane. Seeing my sister and cousin at Easter brunch, both who have new babies, who are working full-time and claim to love motherhood and get all dewy-eyed looking at their babies made me recoil and feel sick inside. What does it say about ME if motherhood doesn't entirely fulfill me?)
I almost kicked Beloved out the door. I felt judged as he watched my interactions with Girl, as he told me how I should customize my resume for every job I'm interested in, as he explained that if all I wanted was to get away from the house then what I was looking for was a tolerable position rather than being picky.
(Which I chafe at...my current working conditions are substandard. I have no sick days or vacation days, and the ones that I do secure, I feel riddled with guilt because I'm asking Beloved to give up HIS time so that I can have time or because I'm saddling someone else with my kids or because I'm so desperate that I actually PAY someone to take my kids for an hour. On top of that, my job "reviews" are offered up several times a day by little bosses who tell me I'm a "mean Mommma" and "I hate you" because I limit the candy, television, toy purchases, etc. Being told that all I'm looking for is a tolerable position hurts...mostly because it says that means motherhood is intolerable and what does that say about me...?)
When Beloved called five minutes later, beginning with, "I don't know why I didn't think of this before!" *sigh* He sounded so excited, so pleased to have come up with a solution, and I was a bitch. "You're trying to FIX it, and I can't deal with that right now." *winces* Yeah. But I can't. It's not even 8am, Girl is screaming, and I'm riddled with guilt for wanting to hide from all the choices and pressure. I've had all the choices in the world, so if I'm not happy with my life it is my own damn fault, right? Just go the fuck away, world!
*sigh*
Yup, it's a Monday...
Friday, April 22, 2011
short on nerves
On Sunday, a ranted about the clutter. Five short days later, I don't feel like I've made ANY progress. I'm snippy and snappy and annoyed. The worst part is that I've HAD babysitting!!! I just don't know why I can't catch up. *growls*
Sure, blame the books a little, but for the most part, I've been toting those when I am taking the kids to the park or playspace. Maybe blame my sheer exhaustion levels at the end of the day. Blame the desire last night to spend time with Beloved figuring out a new game instead of folding laundry. Blame me for being a lazy girl...
Damn it. I just want to trash everything and start with a clean slate.
Sure, blame the books a little, but for the most part, I've been toting those when I am taking the kids to the park or playspace. Maybe blame my sheer exhaustion levels at the end of the day. Blame the desire last night to spend time with Beloved figuring out a new game instead of folding laundry. Blame me for being a lazy girl...
Damn it. I just want to trash everything and start with a clean slate.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Something More
Okay...so I am reworking, rethinking, remaking myself. Again. I'm looking at clinical programs for human sexuality. I've met with area leaders to consider a cafe. I opened a reseller's account. I've picked up books on starting a business and redefining yourself.
One of books I'm reading through is Something More, which talks about excavating a deeper, more authentic self. One of my complaints is that I hardly know myself anymore...I don't have favorites, I don't know what my hobbies are, I am not sure how to define myself. This book is full of romantic cheese that I find insightful enough to pull out a notebook to take notes and consider her "illustrated discovery journal" project. In the first couple of pages, I've already found tidbits that resonate with me.
"Regrets...caused by recollections of things we loved once but have learned to live without." "We'll exhume all the perfectly reasonable choices that derailed your dreams and brush off the clinging soil hiding the half-truths that have haunted you." "Why do you play down all your assets and call attention to your deficients?"
*wry smile* Do I really think one book has all the answers? Not really. But it's a wistful hope that maybe this one will provide another CLUE to finding A path. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm stumbling and wandering in circles.
One of books I'm reading through is Something More, which talks about excavating a deeper, more authentic self. One of my complaints is that I hardly know myself anymore...I don't have favorites, I don't know what my hobbies are, I am not sure how to define myself. This book is full of romantic cheese that I find insightful enough to pull out a notebook to take notes and consider her "illustrated discovery journal" project. In the first couple of pages, I've already found tidbits that resonate with me.
"Regrets...caused by recollections of things we loved once but have learned to live without." "We'll exhume all the perfectly reasonable choices that derailed your dreams and brush off the clinging soil hiding the half-truths that have haunted you." "Why do you play down all your assets and call attention to your deficients?"
*wry smile* Do I really think one book has all the answers? Not really. But it's a wistful hope that maybe this one will provide another CLUE to finding A path. I'm so tired of feeling like I'm stumbling and wandering in circles.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Endless clutter
I have it, and it's driving me crazy.
CLOTHES.
Part of it is the inbetween seasons. There's a 40% chance of snow tonight, but upper 50s by Tuesday. Thus the hats and gloves are mixed with short-sleeved shirts, gardening clothes mixed with sweatshirts.
Add to that, Girl is somewhere inbetween 18m and 2t, so there's a question of what fits without being too short, too warm, too cool. Boy is not quite as dramatic, but he is also in the awkward size stage and I'm sorting 4t and 5t and trying to keep some balance.
I am transitioning my "fashion" style again, so I am trying funky and colorful and need to par down the wardrobe to something manageable. It would help if I put away the heavy flannel and sweats and longjohns that I haven't worn since January/February.
BOOKS.
I've been tearing through books again, which is awesome and I'm loving, loving, loving! I've also been somewhat addicted to picking up more books at the library and amassing piles of "will get to" books from the thrift store. *coughs* AND a local Borders is going out of business, so HAD to take advantage of that... Plus, I've needed to pull out gardening books to work out plans and develop daydreams.
GAMES AND TOYS.
Kindly get your head out of the gutter...I mean board games, card games, and kids' toys. They are everywhere. Girl has discovered a passion for entropy, and she carefully takes ABC flashcards and mixes them with the cards from Trivial Pursuit, the chips from Toy Story Yahtzee, and tokens from RoboRally (or some other random assortment from the games she could pull out of the closet); then, for good measure, she grabs a bucket and carries the lot through the house, making small piles to spread around later. Boy has a collection of "Guys": Justice League, army guys, Transformers, Bakugan. There's the Tinker Toys and the plastic food from the kitchenette and markers and paper, and doll clothes.
KITCHEN.
Gah. You know what I said about Girl and entropy? The jar of molassas migrated from the cabinet to the cat tree, there's a box of Jello mix under the table, and silicone cupcake liners sprouting like rainbow mushroom caps all over the kitchen floor. There's a dishwasher full of clean dishes, a sink full of dirty ones. There's a box of Cuties from the roommate, a pile of grocery bags that need to be recycled, and magazines and paper bits that need to be returned to people who do not live here.
ATTIC and GARAGE.
*winces* yeah. There is soooo much crap...well, some good, valuable yard sale material...but it means facing it, dragging the boxes down, sorting, labeling, and DEALING. There never seems to be enough time to do that before the kids wade into the semi-understandable piles with their dread entropy talents...
GARDEN.
At least I have 95% of my stuff in the ground at this point, but even then, a lot is not in a permanent spot yet. I didn't want to dig out a big grass patch to put in bareroot that may or may not germinate, so a number of plants are in the former daylily locations until I'm convinced they will be worth more effort. I really want to try out straw bales along the side of the garage, but the garage needs to be scraped and painted and it becomes a round-robin of what should I do first...
*deep breath*
Yes, there is a lot going on. But on the bright side, I at least have a notion of what IS going on. I know that I could get (most) everything put away in it's proper home if I got a day to do so. *wry smile* It wouldn't LAST, but that's just Life, ya know?
CLOTHES.
Part of it is the inbetween seasons. There's a 40% chance of snow tonight, but upper 50s by Tuesday. Thus the hats and gloves are mixed with short-sleeved shirts, gardening clothes mixed with sweatshirts.
Add to that, Girl is somewhere inbetween 18m and 2t, so there's a question of what fits without being too short, too warm, too cool. Boy is not quite as dramatic, but he is also in the awkward size stage and I'm sorting 4t and 5t and trying to keep some balance.
I am transitioning my "fashion" style again, so I am trying funky and colorful and need to par down the wardrobe to something manageable. It would help if I put away the heavy flannel and sweats and longjohns that I haven't worn since January/February.
BOOKS.
I've been tearing through books again, which is awesome and I'm loving, loving, loving! I've also been somewhat addicted to picking up more books at the library and amassing piles of "will get to" books from the thrift store. *coughs* AND a local Borders is going out of business, so HAD to take advantage of that... Plus, I've needed to pull out gardening books to work out plans and develop daydreams.
GAMES AND TOYS.
Kindly get your head out of the gutter...I mean board games, card games, and kids' toys. They are everywhere. Girl has discovered a passion for entropy, and she carefully takes ABC flashcards and mixes them with the cards from Trivial Pursuit, the chips from Toy Story Yahtzee, and tokens from RoboRally (or some other random assortment from the games she could pull out of the closet); then, for good measure, she grabs a bucket and carries the lot through the house, making small piles to spread around later. Boy has a collection of "Guys": Justice League, army guys, Transformers, Bakugan. There's the Tinker Toys and the plastic food from the kitchenette and markers and paper, and doll clothes.
KITCHEN.
Gah. You know what I said about Girl and entropy? The jar of molassas migrated from the cabinet to the cat tree, there's a box of Jello mix under the table, and silicone cupcake liners sprouting like rainbow mushroom caps all over the kitchen floor. There's a dishwasher full of clean dishes, a sink full of dirty ones. There's a box of Cuties from the roommate, a pile of grocery bags that need to be recycled, and magazines and paper bits that need to be returned to people who do not live here.
ATTIC and GARAGE.
*winces* yeah. There is soooo much crap...well, some good, valuable yard sale material...but it means facing it, dragging the boxes down, sorting, labeling, and DEALING. There never seems to be enough time to do that before the kids wade into the semi-understandable piles with their dread entropy talents...
GARDEN.
At least I have 95% of my stuff in the ground at this point, but even then, a lot is not in a permanent spot yet. I didn't want to dig out a big grass patch to put in bareroot that may or may not germinate, so a number of plants are in the former daylily locations until I'm convinced they will be worth more effort. I really want to try out straw bales along the side of the garage, but the garage needs to be scraped and painted and it becomes a round-robin of what should I do first...
*deep breath*
Yes, there is a lot going on. But on the bright side, I at least have a notion of what IS going on. I know that I could get (most) everything put away in it's proper home if I got a day to do so. *wry smile* It wouldn't LAST, but that's just Life, ya know?
Friday, April 8, 2011
What do others sacrifice???
Yeah, I'm back on the frustrated-defeatism wagon, and once again, it started with an innocent birthday party invite...
Boy was invited to a classmate's birthday party, which is cool. He was very excited about seeing some of his former classmates (he transferred to a different school in February). Me...*sigh* I had nigglies of anxiety when I realized it was hosted at home, and all of those nigglies came out fact. Huge, beautiful house with a landscaped yard and a Rainbow Play House in the back. A dedicated playroom. A pile of store-bought gifts. A store-bought cake. Themed party games, favor bags, and decorations.
On the one hand, I rail against all that. It isn't what I want to teach my children...it isn't about the STUFF! Or at least, it's not supposed to be.
But I find myself frustrated, despite what I preach. Beloved and I struggle to make ends meet. Most of the time, we do pretty well. Amazing friends, supportive family, good times. I am teaching tips on thrifting.
But without fail, my confidence waivers and my positive outlooks darken when I am faced with the lifestyle of other parental-counterparts. *pouts* How do they DO it???
Boy was invited to a classmate's birthday party, which is cool. He was very excited about seeing some of his former classmates (he transferred to a different school in February). Me...*sigh* I had nigglies of anxiety when I realized it was hosted at home, and all of those nigglies came out fact. Huge, beautiful house with a landscaped yard and a Rainbow Play House in the back. A dedicated playroom. A pile of store-bought gifts. A store-bought cake. Themed party games, favor bags, and decorations.
On the one hand, I rail against all that. It isn't what I want to teach my children...it isn't about the STUFF! Or at least, it's not supposed to be.
But I find myself frustrated, despite what I preach. Beloved and I struggle to make ends meet. Most of the time, we do pretty well. Amazing friends, supportive family, good times. I am teaching tips on thrifting.
But without fail, my confidence waivers and my positive outlooks darken when I am faced with the lifestyle of other parental-counterparts. *pouts* How do they DO it???
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Happy Anniversary!
My Sweet Beloved,
I love you! I know we say this every day, that sometimes the words seem routine and cliché, that our busy, chaotic lives roar loudly and sometimes drown out the real emotion, but I love you more deeply than I thought possible.
After fifteen (FIFTEEN!!!) years of our "convenience" marriage, I smile and wonder what our younger selves would think of us. Did they know that it would really work out? Did they absorb the judge's monologue despite not remembering the words? Did they surprise themselves as much as they surprised the family?
You'd think I would know some of those answers, since I was once one of those younger selves, but I don't. So much is "in the moment", "one day at a time" that I easily take you for granted. I don't mean to. I appreciate all that you do, even (especially!) when I am tired and frustrated with the moment.
I am so grateful for your help around the house, especially with the children. I know you contribute more with childcare and chores than a lot of other fathers and husbands we know. I am awed by your ability to jump in...a smokin' smoke-jumper! I melt and lick my lips, thinking of your vacuuming photo! Me-OW!
I am amazed by your enthusiastic support of my life-restructuring thoughts. I hardly doubt that you would make Philadelphia happen, if that is the final choice. Your encouragement is priceless (and maybe a little daunting)!
I am so proud of you, for who you have become and what you have accomplished professionally. I remember the internal flutters when meeting with VIPs and commanding their respect. I cherish the self-assuredness you have developed. Even JM has conceded to you!
I delight in the nightly oogling (even if I grumble about it sometimes) and am indebted to you for teaching me to preen. In one word, you remind me of your love, your appreciation, your lust, for me. I love how demonstrative you are, even when I blush and try to hide. I love your unabashed declaration in the parking lot at the mall, at Ci-Ci's. I love how you capture me every day.
Some days, it is hard and we both wish it was easier to shed our responsibilities. Ironically, our self-imposed chaos makes the quiet moments all the more special and meaningful. At our wedding reception, I thought my dad was being cheesy when he said "Thank you for showing my daughter happiness." Now, that memory brings tears to my eyes, because it is so true.
I love you, always and forever!
I love you! I know we say this every day, that sometimes the words seem routine and cliché, that our busy, chaotic lives roar loudly and sometimes drown out the real emotion, but I love you more deeply than I thought possible.
After fifteen (FIFTEEN!!!) years of our "convenience" marriage, I smile and wonder what our younger selves would think of us. Did they know that it would really work out? Did they absorb the judge's monologue despite not remembering the words? Did they surprise themselves as much as they surprised the family?
You'd think I would know some of those answers, since I was once one of those younger selves, but I don't. So much is "in the moment", "one day at a time" that I easily take you for granted. I don't mean to. I appreciate all that you do, even (especially!) when I am tired and frustrated with the moment.
I am so grateful for your help around the house, especially with the children. I know you contribute more with childcare and chores than a lot of other fathers and husbands we know. I am awed by your ability to jump in...a smokin' smoke-jumper! I melt and lick my lips, thinking of your vacuuming photo! Me-OW!
I am amazed by your enthusiastic support of my life-restructuring thoughts. I hardly doubt that you would make Philadelphia happen, if that is the final choice. Your encouragement is priceless (and maybe a little daunting)!
I am so proud of you, for who you have become and what you have accomplished professionally. I remember the internal flutters when meeting with VIPs and commanding their respect. I cherish the self-assuredness you have developed. Even JM has conceded to you!
I delight in the nightly oogling (even if I grumble about it sometimes) and am indebted to you for teaching me to preen. In one word, you remind me of your love, your appreciation, your lust, for me. I love how demonstrative you are, even when I blush and try to hide. I love your unabashed declaration in the parking lot at the mall, at Ci-Ci's. I love how you capture me every day.
Some days, it is hard and we both wish it was easier to shed our responsibilities. Ironically, our self-imposed chaos makes the quiet moments all the more special and meaningful. At our wedding reception, I thought my dad was being cheesy when he said "Thank you for showing my daughter happiness." Now, that memory brings tears to my eyes, because it is so true.
I love you, always and forever!
Friday, April 1, 2011
Old memories, familiar hurts
I admit that I am jaded and perhaps even bias when it comes to death because of my family's experiences. I was fourteen when my mom died from cancer complications. Her passing was a sweet relief because it really had been hell for most of that year. I've helped plan more than a dozen funerals of friends and family since then.
The poem goes, "Some people come into our lives and ... leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same..." Recognizing the blessing, the impact a person has made in my life, however brief the relationship, is important. I am grateful for the footsteps, and hopeful that the end is swift and easy.
A good friend's mother died yesterday from cancer. I'm thrown back into my own memories, my own aches, and my own needs. At the same time, I know that Beloved thinks my views on death are morbid and that my relief that it is OVER is not common.
Right now, his loss sluices through me. I want so badly to help, although his family seriously is a CLAN and there is no need for another set of hands. Mostly, it is selfish...I want to share my knowledge and make sure there is good food to eat because at a time like this, who thinks about food? I want to accept the burden of tears and hurt because it is light for me. I want to purge my own hurts by carrying theirs.
The poem goes, "Some people come into our lives and ... leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same..." Recognizing the blessing, the impact a person has made in my life, however brief the relationship, is important. I am grateful for the footsteps, and hopeful that the end is swift and easy.
A good friend's mother died yesterday from cancer. I'm thrown back into my own memories, my own aches, and my own needs. At the same time, I know that Beloved thinks my views on death are morbid and that my relief that it is OVER is not common.
Right now, his loss sluices through me. I want so badly to help, although his family seriously is a CLAN and there is no need for another set of hands. Mostly, it is selfish...I want to share my knowledge and make sure there is good food to eat because at a time like this, who thinks about food? I want to accept the burden of tears and hurt because it is light for me. I want to purge my own hurts by carrying theirs.
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