I keep looking around this house, this life and wondering what I'd grab if I had to go with just a moment's notice. It's a terrifying prospect that so many are contending with.
These are inescapably sad days, this piece of November. The days when we sat by Jimmy's bedside and he slipped away from us a little at a time. Five years, five minutes. My heart can't tell the difference.
It's good that my day-to-day is consumed, starting at 5 in the morning. Getting Charlie off to school is most often the high point. He's such a piece of wonderful work that I'm grateful for. From there I go to the library for a few hours of concentrated writing. More about that here.
I still pick up the cloth from time to time. Turn it this way and that. Dream about what goes where, but the "why" of it eludes me. I took a load of scraps made cloth and from the cloth a very serviceable gown. mumu. schmata. You'll call it different things depending. A floor length garment that you probably shouldn't wear in public. No pictures. Pure comfort.
My back seat driver:
and me, half asleep in the car, waiting for the library to open.
5 comments:
are your yellow flowers poppies? in autumn? nearly winter?
Mo, they're marigolds.
Ah that makes sense, thank you!
Sending you love ...
He's a rare Gem and so are you.
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