I’m having a hard time liking the world right now. When I say world I mean people, not anyone specific just people in general. I have this bad habit of reading the dailymail on the internet. The queen mum would have called it “a penny dreadful.” It gives me the worst news possible along side of pictures of Bruce Jenner’s new fingernail polish. It shows me ISIS brutality in detail and then I get to see Kim Kadashian’s butt. We are all mourning Spock on Facebook while a blogger Dr. Avijit Roy was hacked to death in Bangladesh is not even mentioned. The full color picture of his bloodied wife standing over his body while onlookers stand by is shocking but they are not reality stars. What the hell has happened? When did sensationalism and cruelty knock out compassion and peace? I feel like the world has gone crazy. I hardly know anyone who seems happy, do you?
Month: February 2015
Today is my birthday
Yes, I was born on 2/22/1950 in Washington D.C. on George Washington’s birthday. My mother Grace played cards (was it canasta) with my dad Tom and his parents until they insisted she go to the hospital. At the hospital they knocked her out and got out the thongs (I can still feel the dent on the side of my head) and pulled me out. I have a feeling I wanted to stay inside. Grace woke up and said that was fun let’s have another. Grace loved babies. Kids; not so much. I used to be a holiday. George Washington’s’ birthday was a national holiday, no school. I loved that, it made me feel special. I can remember as a kid trying to imagine what it would be like in the year 2000, I couldn’t. And now here I am in the year 2015 at the age of 65, with still so much to see, so much to do.
Thursday
It is one of those rainy grey days. I stay home in comfy clothes and begin again to throw the queen mum’s life away. Yesterday marked two months since she died. The last couple of weeks have been hard, lots of crying and sadness. I stopped looking through boxes, I needed a break from the daily reminder that she is gone. I feel so alone. I don’t know where I belong. I don’t know what to do. Who am I now? What do I need? Feeling closer to the end then the beginning, working on making peace with that. Reinventing, revitalizing, remembering. Today I tossed away fifteen years of calendars that Grace used as a diary, noting birthdays, telephone calls, parties, fights and bills paid. For a moment I want to stop and read what she wrote for every day of every month of every year. I resist and drop them in the garbage bag. I sift through a box of video tapes that cause my nose to itch from the faint moldy smell held in the box and wonder if anybody still uses VHS. I think that is enough for today.
Waiting
I walked into the holistic health office and 4 young people smile at me, their faces full of joy. I try to smile back. I wish I could put on the big fat I can take it smile, but it’s just not there. Mourning sucks all the joy out and fills the empty spaces with sadness. I honor my grief because when the mourning quiets down I know I will be better for it. I will find my joy.
Riding the wave
My grief reminds me of waves, sometimes it just laps quietly at the shore and then without warning big swells of loneliness twist my heart. I ride the wave. I fall and crash and gasp for air not wanting to drown. Life and death swirl around me, I can almost touch it.
Stirring the pot
I love to just push buttons and see what happens. That is why I now have a headless picture up of Grace and Rolly. The irony is that if Grace had taken this picture it would be headless. She was famous for not getting the head of her subject in the frame. We finally figured out it was because when she pushed the button on the camera she would bend her knees and lose the image in the frame.
Kissing
While looking through the photo history of Captain Rolly and Amazing Grace I noticed that they have a nice collection of kissing pictures. Kissing in celebration. I love to kiss. I like to tell stories with my tongue. Unfortunately I have not had a partner who felt the same and I have no collection of kissing pictures. I think that is an error in judgement on my part (I love clichés). Maybe I should spend the rest of my life looking for kisses; and hugs. A friend told me she heard we would be much happier if we got 8 six second hugs a day. Hugs help relieve stress, I think kissing does too.
Captain Rolly and Grace
I went through a box of pictures I found in the queen mum’s storage today. Pictures of her life with her second husband Captain Rolly. I love pictures and I find it hard to throw them away. I feel like I’m throwing away not only my mum’s life but now her husbands. The Captain was a dapper sea dog and he and Grace look good together. Most of the pictures record their life on Maui where they lived on their trimaran Amazing Grace. There are many pictures of them at weddings, some of the people I recognize but not all. I had suggested that Grace come to Maui when I visited her in Washington DC where she lived after she divorced my father. It was one of my better ideas. Grace blossomed on Maui and before long found her mate Rolly. You can tell from the pictures how happy they both were, those are not phony smiles I’m looking at. They knew how to enjoy life. I think that is a gift. It helps to remember how much love they had for each other instead of the sadness I feel as I throw their lives away.
Monday
I cleaned out the queen mum’s purse today. I had bought her a new one for her birthday but she never got to use it. I thought about taking a picture of all the things inside the purse. Is that morbid? I hate purses. I don’t like to carrying anything with me. Mum was a lady so she had her compact, lipstick, hairbrush, reading glasses, wallet, sunglasses, breath mints, all the necessities a lady needs. I applied for a job writing for an online site and was rejected. I felt it in my chest immediately, just for a second. The fog is floating through the trees on this balmy winter morning and I can hear hummingbirds whizzing by their feeder.
Sunday Dog
Driving into town this morning, a medium size retriever mutt dog comes barreling down a side street right in front of me and proceeds to run down the middle of the road. I had slowed down but the person behind me just beeped their horn. I pull over to the side and opened the back door, calling to the dog. Big old puppy dog with muddy paws jumps in the back seat wagging her tail like she has been waiting for me. Lucky for both of us the animal shelter would be open in a half hour. I get an espresso to go and the dogs (Sweetie was with me) get a biscuit. No tags, no chip on the runaway. It’s a good day for me as the dog is safe and Sweetie is happy that she is still “an only child”. We seem to find a dog or two about once a year since I’ve been in Port Townsend.
The Buzzy Donahue Show 