I've had to let go of the notion that this journal will somehow catalog my life's events in such a way that someone reading it will be able to re-live my greatest and most heartbreaking moments.  It used to be that, I think.  It's not anymore.  Mostly, as I stated last time I wrote 6 months ago, it is a place where I put words that just need to ( Read more... )

I didn't go back and read the entries from Mother's Day like I usually do.  I just find it so interesting that for the last few years, the strongest urge I've had to return here has mostly been this day.  I was surprised to find that I didn't write at all last year... And then not so surprised as I remembered the hell my family and I were living at ( Read more... )

This sounds terribly pessimistic and whiny, but I am learning to hate Mother's Day.  There are two main reasons for this ( Read more... )

I miss my mom.  She lies in a transitional state, her body still here but her soul barely.  Barely.  She speaks in one-word increments, mostly saying "Ow" when she is in pain or calling someone's name, someone who is still here often, but just as often someone who is no longer on this Earth.  Her eyes... staring, glassy, teary, but mostly just half ( Read more... )

I'm re-living OJ all over again this weekend because I found out that our beloved Bella (kitty at Dad's house) has a malignant tumor in her abdomen and the only way to help her is to have an experimental surgery. I'm assuming that by "experimental," they mean they do not know what they are going to find when they open her up. Dad and Andi opted ( Read more... )

I think about putting something down in my journal every day. In fact, several times a day I think wistfully about the time I used to spend on journaling and how much I enjoyed it. How much I enjoyed writing in general. Poetry, prose ( Read more... )

I feel like this is one of those times of year that I always gravitate back to my journal, no matter how far my attention may have strayed from it. I think it's because Thanksgiving is one of my favorite times of year. Up until my grandpa died when I was in high school, Thanksgiving was my favorite season, even over Christmas. I adored the time ( Read more... )

It doesn't hit me too hard during the day, even when I'm giving her her medicine or when she looks up and I can see the tumor protruding from her eye. She acts mostly normal; you wouldn't really be able to tell she's sick if she didn't have the tumor.

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It's funny how grief takes on a physical form when it involves those close to you. It's very heavy, on my limbs and eyelids especially. But I have to keep moving! I already had a million and one things I had to do.... But this takes precedence over the rest ( Read more... )

I still haven't followed up with the vet or really had any serious conversation with Keith about what to do about OJ. I suppose I've just tried to continue, business as usual, without much drama ( Read more... )