I’ve been thinking of my mom a lot since the story went up on OP. I feel like I have some sort of intense secret now that our family stuff is all over the internet. When I saw her yesterday it was hard to look her in the eye. We joked around about things instead of talking about anything real, she chided me about who I am dating and not dating, told me I’m her favorite. Before I left, she held my hand for a long time and didn’t seem to realize how tight her grip was, how cold her fingers, how she wasn’t letting go. She talked me right out of the room, told me to drive safe, did not say she loved me. As I stalked down the hallway and out onto the cold asphalt and swirling November wind I could still hear her, calling out, holding on. I felt my chest left with her, curled up on the edge of that bed like a sleeping puppy. Warm and anxiously dreaming, trying desperately to keep her warm. To keep her here.
When I got home I listened to Ani Difranco for the first time in years and sobbed into the food I cooked a sweet and patient friend and I for dinner. Because its like, important to feel your feelings INTO your food. Also, because when feeling feelings or whatever I like to just take it to the next damn level all the time.
Happy Wednesday. It’ll be dark in an hour or so, and I’m going to try and keep it together tonight, just so you know.