The map

Trying to think of something good, something positive.  I have no desire to do anything.  I've turned to distraction once again, zoning out, not engaging.  I've retreated and want to stay in my fortress.  The isolation is becoming harder now.  Yes I go to work and help others the best I can, there is fear, anxiety, and an overwhelming sense of wanting to help and make a difference to someone. That is my passion, to help, why I chose the career I'm in, why I volunteer at church. Something I learned as a kid from my Gram, always volunteering.  It's hard at work to hear the complaints of others and the negativity, to feel my efforts are looked down upon.  I'm so angry and depressed and feel hopeless all at the same time.  There is no energy, no desire, just the hollow.  I just want to be alone sitting in my chair zoning out, yet I want to be on the couch laying next to you feeling that safety, that belonging, that comfortable embrace.  I am here with the hollow, doing my best to not let that show.  She's come so far and I'm grateful for that.  She's surpassed me on this path, again I'm grateful. 

It's hard to breath, the hollow is growing.  As I reflect on my path I survived because I had someone to help.  When my Gram passed away I had my Mom to help.  When my Mom passed away that was a different dynamic, I had you.  You reminded me that I had a little girl to raise with you, to help,  and that always stuck with me.  When you left this earth I had her to help.  To absorb her pain, her anger, be the person she could lash out at one moment, then have the hug to hold her as she wept.
 
I imagine a walk through the woods, trees on either side of us, not knowing what was ahead, staying on the path trying to find our way.  I really don't have to imagine, we've being taking those walks or hikes since it became just the two of us.  My dear friend introduced us to camping and the solace of nature.  We were on the path of unknown, it was so very dark, scary, anxious.  You made that suggestion, took us under your wing and gave us a map.  You literally gave me a map, I still remember our first trek up north.  We weren't camping, but it was a trip away just the two of us before I went back to work.  You gave me a map of gooseberry falls.  I took your advise because I didn't know what else to do, I was so lost.  You literally gave me a map.  That very first trip she I and took alone was so difficult, there were so many emotions in those few days.  It sparked something though.  We began to walk and hike.  We joked, told stories, made up games, got lost and found our way again.  The trail was never known to us, we started and didn't know where we would end up, we just trusted and had faith we would come out at the end.  We always did.  Faith is not a substitute for caution, we followed the signs, stayed on the path.  I remember one trip at Fort Snelling we got really really lost, there were no trail signs or directories, we came across a woman & her dogs in the woods and we asked for directions, she was so kind and helpful.  She walked us back to the path because she knew those woods so well and told us it was tricky to find your way.  That happens so much in life, we were lost and I asked for help, usually such a difficult task for me to do.  Funny though I'm always willing to help if someone asks.  I wonder if it was easier to ask because she was a complete stranger, why is it harder to ask for help from a friend, for me anyway.  If I'm asking for help for her though, that is never hard to do.  It's really only for myself I struggle to reach out.  I finally let myself do that again, to reach out, to let down all my walls and defenses.  To truly let someone in and see everything.  It proved to be too much, I was told, maybe in anger or maybe in pain, either way it was raw honesty.  I was told my passion for my work and my grief was too much and I couldn't give enough.  Honesty.  Good or bad I went back to my fortress, the calendar changed, isolation continues, she thrives, it hurts to smile, I catch myself watching her, laughing at her quick wit, the hollow is swallowing me, I need distraction, to zone out.  I really need to force myself on the hiking path, to find that map, to keep going, maybe another day I'll take that step.  For now I will stay in my fortress and contemplate the map.

I miss you.

take care

stuck

Five years, it falls on the same day of the week this time as well.  Here I sit alone, in more ways than one. A painful yet necessary decision.  I have no words to share.  It seems I'm alone in the duo on this day.  Don't get me wrong I'm glad she's not down, well she hasn't arisen from her slumber so we shall see.  It just goes to the point she only had 8 years, three or four with actual memories.  I had 17, yet felt like a lifetime and didn't.  I was cheated.  I know you had 20 and cheated had a whole other meaning.

It's different this year.  Other circumstances have made their mark.  The isolation, two fold really.  The one that started 10 months ago and the ordered isolation which compounds the emotions.  I miss the daily contact, the jokes, the understanding of each other, it's painful.  That hurts more right now it seems, more than the turn of the calendar, more than the day, more than the memories of so long ago.  Different dates bother me, different numbers.  In ten days there will be another day, another memory, another reliving of the events.

It seems no matter what I do I can't climb out, I'm stuck.  Words said in pain and anger keep swirling in my head.  I take everything to heart, it's how I'm built, I can't seem to let it go, I need to let them go, but I care too much, too much empathy.  Is that even a thing, to care too much?

The pieces I put into the puzzle didn't count, at least I didn't feel like they counted.  I learned all I could about subjects I had no interest.  I took an interest, I asked questions, I cared.  I listened to words, I planned a trip to fulfill a dream, to make a 'someday' come true.  Life is not fair, we've all had our lessons on that topic.  Yes we try to make life fair where we can, I just feel my efforts were not seen.  Failed and defeated. I truly hope the future brings success & a thriving friendship, maybe that's too much to hope for, too much to expect.  For now I must remember the sun will rise, the sun will set.


take care

1000

Dvorak, something I just discovered.  It's beautiful.  I still remember Stravinsky's The Firebird, sitting next to you.  The music filling the auditorium, sitting next to you both of us enjoying it.  I miss those.  Of late the orchestra was not a shared enjoyment, a very thoughtful and selfless gesture, one I appreciated.  The music was so moving for me. 

Da mi basia mille

You probably already knew about Dvorak or maybe you didn't, I'll never know.  You're getting farther and farther away. To share Dvorak, to share the music, to share a story, to share a moment.  

4 years 11 months 26 days. 

9 years 11 months 27 days.  

11 months 15 days. 

Nearly 10 years ago you were there, helped me through all the firsts and all the seconds and thirds and held me tight.  I was called stoic, and told I was strong.  Nearly five years to the day you were gone.  I found comfort and solace in a friend and nearly a year ago that is no more. I really hate April. 

The new chapter has ended and yes that hurts too.  

The sun has set and it will rise and tomorrow will come.  Another day, though the days of late are anxiety filled, fearful, helpless, no, not helpless.  Not helpless, helpful, I'm the finder of the silver lining after all, the bringer of sunshine, teller of jokes, really really bad jokes.  It was nice to laugh today, someone cares, that is always nice too. 

take care, 

calendar

A turn of the calendar, a new month begins.  A new reality of fear, anxiety, isolation.  Trying to be the light, the finder of silver.  The turn of the calendar, all of a sudden there's no energy, struggling to find the light.  I can hear the waves in the distance, the sound of peace, tranquility until it comes violently to the shore, all with the turn of the calendar. 


take care