J

I did not write anything for the months of June and July. One entry in August and I painfully try to write now. When I log in, I see my sister's and friends' entries. I read them, I read them again. Sometimes I look for the hidden meanings I think may be there. Other times, they are too painful to see.

I have taken almost no photos this year. I don't know what I have done, accomplished, or what goals I have set. I have made small strides only this week, when I finally kicked myself in the ass and just went for the things I should have went for months ago. This of course, doesn't include the personal life. God plays tricks on me with the Scorpions he places in my lap.

If it weren't for my sister or close friends of late, I'd be on the ledge, rather, actually, maybe off. I have drank more this year than any other. Stopped and have just sat idle. Cry at anything, laugh at everything, (tears of a clown?) but still, I go on.

People ask how my mother is. The fact is, even for me, her second daughter, I will really never know. I have more of a clue, a peek inside than others, but if I'm struggling, how the hell is she dealing? She spent every night, except for a few, with him by his side for a married life of just over forty years. Forty. I don't know how empty a bed like that would feel.

Last week, I cried hard. Grocery shopping is still a terrible thing. I parked the car in the driveway and almost forgot the kids were there, hearing me sob. My son voiced his almost agitated concern this time. "Mama! Are you crying over Papa again?" Sometimes he just tells anyone that, "her dad died, she's sad", a constant reminder that yes, I am.

I am sorry for the lack of communication to some friends, the dropped plans, or the drunk conversations. It could be worse. I am still oddly, myself to some degree, but just not enough of the old me. I am lost, I will admit. Maybe I will emerge a new person after all of this.