tides that i've tried to swim against.
I'm completely and totally nostalgic for two weeks ago. It was so much more innocent, and I just felt truly happy and at rest. Everything was full of a calm energy; everything was full of possibility and life. I don't know why this week has been so awful.
Two weeks ago I was pacing through the house with Clocks in my head and I went into my father's spare room and our cat was there, still looking up at me calmly. He deterioated over last weekend with what we think was a extremely progressed form of cancer. My father went on Saturday morning and had him put to sleep. I haven't cried at all, which is rare of me, but I feel at peace now that he's not suffering anymore. Death is something that we all must deal with sometime in our life, and I don't want to be heartless about it because emotions are very important to humanity, but I don't want to get upset because I don't know if I'll be able to get out of it. I'm just getting worn out, and I'm clinging to the promise that God has something better and deeper coming soon. I just don't know. A lot of wrong stuff seems to be happening without much reason for it. I love church, and we've been volunteering a lot, but sometimes it seems strangely empty. I'm trying to plug into something and I'm not getting much current from it. I get it from God, but I guess I'm trying to find some purpose in the actual church work. But the whole thing of working can kind of be like riding a bicycle around in circles. It says nothing against the church itself or the people -- I just think personally I might be being a little oversensitive. I don't really know.
I need a break but I don't know what from.
I wrote a letter to my grandmother. She had her first IV drip of chemo about a week ago for her breast cancer. I haven't written her a letter in years because I talk to her on the phone every week, and I usually don't have too, too much to say, but now she's weaker and it's harder for her to talk, so I'm writing to her instead.
I'm even more aware now of how strange time works, and how it progresses, and the moment that we have the present it's gone, making way for another moment. I don't know why God decided to make time work that way. I mean, I can't think of another, better way but sometimes moving on and not being able to physically get back inside of memories is really, deeply sad. But that longing can create a desire to make the future better, and to press on, and not dwell in memories that we can't physically reach.
I was at church and we were ushering and my mother and father were standing next to eachother talking to someone, and I realised how blessed I am that, you know, they're still here. Both of them. Right now my dad is in the other room talking in a crazy voice, I am practically in tears of laughter because of it, and my mother is up late on Facebook adding people and laughing as well. These are the things I have to remember, have to. Because soon I will be older and maybe out of the house, and I don't know how far God will take me from home.
I want to stop time sometimes, or make duplicates of days. Put the feelings of days in boxes and hide them in the kitchen cupboards, with their dark red walls, and bring them out when I need them, because some days I really do need them.
And now it is very late, and even Mom is in bed, and I have heavy mathematics tomorrow. :)