I look at this blog and I find that I actually enjoy reading my own meandering ponderances. Arrogant? Possibly. It has been two years since my last post. And I sit here and think upon the past two years and the reasons why I have removed myself from something I enjoyed so much along the years. It is as if my pen dried up and all of the ideas fell carelessly from my mind.
My Mom died. I typed that and tears filled my eyes and poured over onto my cheeks. And until this weekend I felt as if I had never mourned her. But in reality, I have. I have stopped my life (on many levels) and have just sort of hovered. Waiting. For what, I have no idea. Maybe I am waiting for the internal “go ahead” to resume my life, to not feel like crap every time something new happens or someone new happens and I am unable to talk to her about it. Maybe I am waiting for the realization that I will never be able to patch the hole in my heart that was left in her absence. I could never imagine a world without my Ma in it and then I was forced to accept just that. Until the past few weeks, I could not “see” or “feel” my Ma. I would get so angry with people when they would talk about their parents who have passed on and how they can still feel or see them close by. It was as if my Ma died and she took all connections with her.
But suddenly I can “feel” her. She shows up on the fringes of my mind. I imagine her yelling at me for poor judgement calls, urging me to do the things that need to be done. But, in reality, it is just this image of her, on the right side of my existence, almost on my shoulder. Good angel? Hard for me to imagine that. But, I guess so. And it is always the same image – her in a burgundy windbreaker and close to the appearance of what she looked like in the late 70s. She was heavy then, before the stomach surgeries, way before the age when I started knowing everything and she knew nothing, when the world still held certain childish possibilities for me. She is just there. She does not offer me her tidbits of wisdom that used to drive me nuts because “she just didn’t get it”. She does not come off the cuff with witticisms that make me giggle for days to come. But, she is there. And that comforts me.
The upcoming year will be one of transformation for me. I need to move in a direction (right, wrong or indifferent). I cannot remain stagnant as I have been (especially in the past year). I am moving past being internally numb. There are things in my life that I do not like and for whatever reasons (maybe laziness, maybe fear) I have not moved to change them. But change is definitely coming. Today I sit here with sore muscles. I ran yesterday. It felt good. The blood was flowing and I felt very much alive. My brain kicked through a number of ideas – things to do, things to write, wanting to read up on subjects. It was as if running broke the dam – the mental block – and it felt pretty good.
Be prepared (new friends) because I share entirely too much. My old friends, who were privy to this blog years ago, I hope you still find enjoyment in the words that I put down. I promise that the next blog will not be as “heavy” as this one.
Categories: Personal History / My Own Words