so yeah….that looks pretty bad…
goal is 40 and i am at SEVEN!

but the truth is
i am actually at 32….
i have just been really bad at posting
because…well…you know….
there were other things happening.

and the truth also is that
i still feel broken and raw and
too-touchy-to-touch…
i should have a sign that says
“will smile at you but
do not approach too close,
will also bite your hand off.”

i know that no one knows the right thing to say
when you lose someone and that
everyone is trying their best
but i can only speak for myself when i say
for me specifically, it’s best not to say anything at all.
i know that you know. ♥
and i know that you are sorry for my loss. ♥
but as soon as i hear those words,
i don’t know what to say, i am mumbling things
& shrugging my shoulders and looking away…
and it gets incredibly awkward.
for you and for me.
so let me save you from that. :)
if you see me out, please don’t feel you have to say anything…
i promise i will know, i will understand,
and honestly, my heart will thank you for that.

i met up with 2 old friends yesterday by chance
in the sauna…and my first thought was
it’s going to happen again….
(and i am going to be crying in the parking lot)
but it didn’t. ♥

instead they let me wonder out loud
about the possibilities of the door jamming shut
and suffocating us all (while reassuring me that wouldn’t happen)
and we talked about yoga and wellness
and i knew that underneath, they were telling me
they were sorry…but that silent sorry meant so much to me.

(and please don’t think i am saying that
this is the right approach for everyone…
i only know what is right for me…
and nobody knows this if I don’t tell them so…)
and also if you have seen me out and said anything
PLEASE DON’T FEEL BAD. that is SO not my intention.
you didn’t know…cause how does anyone know what
anyone wants in a time like this.

it’s such an emotionally charged time.
i am prone to taking everything the wrong way.
if you say i’m strong, or that i’m handling it well,
i will hear that it looks like i don’t even care that he died.
AND I KNOW THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU MEAN
but did i mention my brain is super effing glitchy right now?
again. better just to not talk to me until spring…
like a bear in hibernation. Haha.
Or talk to me about smurfs or sesame street or
oh gawd, did you watch love is blind
which is the worst trainwreck of a show but
yeah!!! i will definitely talk about how much i loved Milton
and couldn’t stand Stacey. Hahaha.

ANYWAY. One more version of a
not what I came here to say blog post.
please bear with me…my brain is glitchy.

What I wanted to say was:
Book #7 - Whiskey in a Teacup - Reese Witherspoon
♥♥♥♥ out of 5 hearts

The note I wrote about this book:
"Pretty pictures and I just like Reese. Sue me."

and one last note…
for anyone that has sent me messages
about dad or about their own loss…yes!
This I can do. I am better in type.
And I can choose when and where to read it…
and there is no need for me to respond right away.

There. Now I’m done. For real. Unless you wanna talk about love is blind…cause….I’m game for that! :D

it’s been 3 weeks…
a little over 3 weeks even…
but time feels irrelevant and finicky…
it feels like yesterday
and also forever ago
since I seen you last,
heard you laugh,
made you say
"oh, you’re a strange bird, you”
or heard you yell
love ya!
as i am leaving.

it’s like time works in a vacuum
in a blender
in layers of near and far
and the stark reality of
forever-forever-like-REALLY-fucking-forever
sinks in…

there are good days
and bad days….but
i know that is to be expected….
and that, my friends, that’s the kicker…
you KNOW all the things
that are to be expected
because, like the planner you are,
you read the books and
watched the youtube videos on
grief and healing and loss and
even anticipatory grief
but the truth is

you still don’t expect it.
you are still not ready.
acceptance? fuck that. I accept nothing.
(or so the tantrumy kid in my heart keeps yelling and stomping about)

my point is there are up days
and down days, days when you push yourself out of bed
cause you think dad wouldn’t stay in bed…
and days when you stay in bed
cause dad would say that’s ok…as long as you don’t do it every day.

and you worry that you are going
to drive everyone crazy because, obviously,
you process things in type and photos and words and doodles…
i mean, you have a BLOG for gawd sake…
haha. who even has one of these anymore
much less has had one for EIGHTEEN YEARS.

anyway. i digress. as per usual.

i have been thinking of ways to move
through this with some semblance of sanity…
and the truth is my dad LOVED life.
if you know him, you know….he LOVED life.
creativity. resourcefulness. imagination. humor.
hard work. his wife. his family. his friends. exploring. being outside.

so i am making lists (cause…that’s what i do) of how to move though this.
things like:

journaling
reading (fiction for escape but also books on loss - it does help me)
drawing/painting - get back to the little blue desk
crochet/knit/macrame etc
maybe get out with the BIG camera again. (this one gives me butterflies in my belly)
snowshoes
go to sauna & hot tub weekly
try to write/illustrate a little story book just for me
start working on some of the projects I have put on the back burner
maybe join a gym…but do something active regardless
and also…plan some big trips of some sort. NFLD has been on my list. Dad & I talked about that a lot. Maybe next year, that becomes a real goal.
to keep exploring and going on adventures…every time I would see him he would say “so what beach today?” or “no beach today?” or “I thought you would be at the beach today”. ♥

literally every moment
is a fresh start…
it’s ok to break down…
and it’s also ok to move forward…
and those two actions
may work in parallel, in tandem, in conjunction
with each other…just let it. just live it.
live life big. notice the little moments.
it’s going to be ok. (not the same, never the same…
but it will be ok again.)

the one solace i take in all of this
is that he knows that i loved him hard
with all my heart.

and that i always will.