October

I've been tired in a way that sleep can't fix.
But not sleeping either.
Tired of the way I start over thinking, when dark thoughts take over and the real me starts shrinking...

September was a month of death, and full of mourning...
And worry
And stress
And blah...conforming...

They say it comes in threes and maybe we're still waiting on that third. But I let the waiting get to me, let my anxiety get the best of me, making myself sick with worry.

Grandpa went first, and it was just his time. A great man, that lived a great life, and the world felt sad to see him go.
And the whole family came out, to stand in line. Strangers, and stranger...
The family show.
The outpouring at his funeral made my world feel so small.
Who will be at my graveside, when it's my time to go? Of all the people I've loved in my life...how many do I still know?

My heart broke for my grandma, she's never been alone.
My heart aches with her sorrow.

And I looked upon my lover, knowing he'll go before I, with sweet and cherishing eyes... We've got plenty of years ahead of us yet, to build the life we want together, the memories that will sustain me once he's gone.
I feel so grateful to finally know this kind of love, even though it's a given, one day he'll be gone.
Guilty for my happiness, at such an inappropriate time.

Then my long lost daddio...at only 67.
Not old enough really, unexpected, and before his time...
not the one that created me, not the one that cursed and hated me, but the one that actually raised me.
That one shook me to my core. I felt shattered. Orphaned once more.

I was a grown woman, with a child of my own, the first time I called him dad. A conscious decision. It was the title he deserved, and he put in the work.

And I was such a brat to him the first time my mama brought him home.
No time machine to take that back.
No final chance to say goodbyes.
I wasn't mad, or resentful, we lost touch. I saw what losing mama did to him, he missed her so much.
I could hear the guilt in his voice when he told me he was dating, and I understood that I couldn't understand that inner conflict completely.
But somewhere inside of me, I guess I hoped we would reconnect. A painful reminder of lessons already learned.
Life is short, and time runs out.

My son barely remembers him. Naturally, it's been years.
But that loss triggered a new train of thought...

How quickly, and how greatly things can change. And to such extremes.

I've lost people, still living.
So many, it seems.

And I look upon my lover, with curious wonder. Here I am planning a life with this man...could he, would he, one day, do the same?
How can I be so certain, when the world casts nothing but shadows of doubt.
Am I being naive to have faith in something I've never seen?
And my son, How could I sign him up for that kind of hurt, how could I? As his mother. Without assurances?

But what assurances are there in life, except for death?
How many promises really go unbroken? And which ones are kept?

That delicate truce with my sister that began at our mother's death, instantly dissolved with the death of our step-father. How easily was that written off?

The people you love and depend on move away, and life pushes you forward.
The once daily routines become something...obscure.

But when life has taught you that even blood won't come through. And there's no one in life you can depend on but you.

How do I so whole-heartedly promise forever? How do I believe in my soul that it's true? How am I so impossibly certain of this, of you?

if you don't keep on living, you're just waiting to die, and life's full of heartache anyway, so dammit I'm gonna try.

I'm in this completely, even if you don't understand.
why I am sometimes, the way that I am.

Life is so Full of adventures waiting to be had. Those moments are out there. Waiting to share.