Some days are just gone days. The world lives, and I think, so do I. That doesn’t mean I’m not gone, though. The world spins in color, and I think, so do I. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel black and white, though. The days are rare, but they are here.
Some days are just gone days. I was gone today, and sometimes I wasn’t. Sometimes I was. Mostly I wasn’t. I walk around like everything is fine, but deep down inside my shoe, my sock is sliding off. That’s a meme I’ve seen, by the way. I didn’t make that up! I walk around like everything is fine, but deep down inside my head, my mind is sliding off. That one, I made up.
I made a big deal of my birthday two and a half weeks ago, because it was the last age my father ever turned. It seemed so far away for so long, and then it came. And it passed. He passed. I didn’t pass. He passed away 17 days after his birthday, at dinnertime. For me, that is today. I’m thankful to be standing here, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t wince at dinnertime, the way I’ve been wincing at dinnertime for 32 years. For years now, when I sit down for a family dinner, there’s a part of my breath that can’t catch up to the rest of me. Or vice versa? There’s a part of the rest of me that can’t catch up to my breath.
It’s mostly always brief, the way I’ll allow this day to be, and this feeling. There is nothing logical about this, except for being hard-wired to always, somehow, fear the same fate for me at the same time. Or to just wonder. Then to move along. And on.
I think I’ll get through tonight, as well as this week, and then I’ll get on a plane to Alaska next week, and I’ll either come back as a moose or I’ll come back a little or a lot different from what I’ve ever been. The way you are anyway. Every day.
It’s been exactly 20 years since I took a life-changing trip. It was different in every way. I didn’t even necessarily want to go then, but it was a 16th birthday present from my Aunt before she moved to Florida, and I did think that exploring parts of upstate New York and Canada would be something to experience. It still takes me 20 years to find the right(ish) words.
So today I woke up to feed the kids and the pets, in no particular order, except the one looking at me with the sweetest eyes and begging for canned salmon, or the one crawling into bed with me, putting a stuffed lambie gently on my face, lifting my hair, and yelling into my ear, “WAFFLES NOW!” That tends to turn the black and white to color. That tends to turn the gone just slightly towards here. Then it’s two feet on the floor. Light steps through the house, as if to make no impression.
Throwback Thursday to that time I first held my nephew, for two hours without drinks or water breaks, if only to look at his face and remind myself that he’s here. So I don’t forget. He’s here. I shouldn’t forget. And so am I. Don’t let me forget.
Finish the Sentence Friday to the things I should have said or done. The things I should have linked up. It’s a Finish the Sentence Friday linkup for your to participate in one you meant to write, or write one you meant to say, or just play by your own rules and enjoy! I choose any single one of them, to go hand-in-hand with these photos. It’s a day of revisiting the past.
This is me linking up, as one of my favorite things to do, with Finish The Sentence Friday. This week’s topic is “Finish the Sentence You Missed..” And there’s still time to write yours. Come link up with your spin on any of the matters: HERE.