(photo by Renee C.)I can't believe I haven't written anything in 10 days. I guess I'm in a funk, a slump, Melancholy Baby, so to speak. Mother's Day weekend was gorgeous Saturday and then Sunday it poured rain all day long, and I kept thinking about my Mom, then about my brother who would've had his 6th wedding anniversary this past weekend. Then I thought about how I got married 29 yrs ago today ... to my ex-husband who is very ill right now. I seem to be just having one hell of a pity party for myself these days, and yet I know that I am truly happy in many ways. But the "G" word has me by the throat sometimes and I get choked up and can't breathe. I'm tired of grief ... grieving over so much lost. I believe it's time I looked at my life as it is right here and now and see my wonderful husband, our funny, furry feline who somehow decided to move on in when Mandy Girl died. I even like both my jobs for the doctors. I find them ethical, kind and yet quite amusing in their own right. They let me be late and don't bitch. I love that in a job! (I really! love that in a job!) Maybe it was the $1,400 repair for the T-bird with no big desire to buy another vehicle and have a car payment or high insurance premiums. And! our gas bill this month was a credit and our budget plan went down even further. It pays to be menopausal and liking to be cold! I think I'm in a rut ... wanting to make everyone comfortable, wanting to please others, not even remembering how to make myself uplifted. I sure don't blame anyone for not reading my blog lately because I can't seem to get in the groove of writing it and prefer instead to go to others' blogs who are posting beautiful, gorgeous nature photography and some meaningful poetry ... at a time when I can't focus on writing my beloved poems.
So! I pledge to myself that I will do my best to give my grief a rest ... put it on the back burner, let it simmer and boil down to some good grief gravy ... and come out with my boxing gloves on and wrestling with some old ghosts in the shadows.
Perhaps the sun will shine brighter tomorrow and all that greenery out there will spark my heart to be the Lark and not so much the Nightingale.
OK, so that reminds me of a poem I wrote:
The Lark
She tried to find the spark
of what it took to be the Lark
Dawn found her fresh asleep
Through twilight and eve's darkness
she sailed!
Alas! she truly was
the Nightingale.
-klh
...and so it is!
xoxoxo
Highest and best blessings...
1 comment:
The words won't escape you for long, my dear. They're just sitting pretty like chickens waiting to hatch. But grief does weigh them down, I know. Yet it also provides some pretty rich broth so that when you rise, with pen (or keyboard) in hand, they will be richer and empathetic for all that you have suffered. Still, if I could take your burden, I would.
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