Sunday, May 8, 2011

Blue Skies

The afternoon is quite warm but filled with sunshine and blue skies. I've decided to come out and sit on the front porch and post a blog. I've not been posting much. Mainly because life is, at this point, fairly banal. Floods tend to be exciting, even if devastating for the victims. I am blessed to live on higher ground. But it is a bit anticlimactic. It is kind of like watching a ball game.

Today, I'm not going to be false. I'm probably going to post what I feel. I've been fighting all day with myself trying to tell myself that I was silly or stupid or foolish. It hasn't worked. And since I can't just fall apart because I have someone here, I might as well spill my guts on my blog. That way people can simply walk away if they get disgusted or mad.

Mike and I went to church this morning and had lunch together. I was glad he was with me even though it was my treat. It was not a good morning for me. I got no card and no flowers and no calls before I went to church. Mike said happy mother's day while I was getting ready for church. I finally called to see if Sarah and Becca were going. No.

So Mike and I went. But all I could think of through the whole service was that Jerry would have bought me a card or maybe flowers. I would have gotten a hug and probably a kiss. I told myself to stop feeling sorry for myself. But it didn't feel like pity. It felt like . . . being thrown away.

I finally got a text message from David to say Happy mother's day. My aunt and my sister Roselynn called a few minutes ago. I'm sorry, I did get a card from my sister Phyllis a few days ago. And that was nice. But for some reason, none of it was the least special. I felt like an after thought to my children. And the rose the church gave to all the mothers was simply painful.

I wanted to crawl up somewhere, in a hole and disappear because I felt like I already had and I hadn't noticed.

I don't think holidays will ever mean much anymore. Every one that has passed since Jerry died has become meaningless to me. They are pointless waste of time and energy, usually mine. Jerry made mother's day, anniversary and my birthday special. I did the Thanksgiving and Christmas, his birthday and father's day. But now, one day simply runs into another. I'm not special to anyone. There are no hugs, no hands to hold, no pats on the back, no nothing. I get up and go to bed. It isn't fun anymore and there is nothing to look forward to.

I know, depressing. And I've battled the thought all day. But I've decided its fine. This is what I have to learn to deal with, to live with if I am to live at all. I'm not special. Other people surely have it worse. It just seems silly that I didn't see this before. And it makes me angry that I didn't. This was not what I was dreaming of at 12. Or 20. Or 30. There were supposed to be forever days to keep you going. You know, a really wonderful day to hang onto until the next one rolled around and they came around every few months. Only now they don't. None of them are wonderful.

So, maybe for me it would be best to just ignore these days, to step out of the norm and not do the usual thing. Make no contact and expect none. I should have taken off and shut the house and left everyone at home and found some pool somewhere I could sit and read beside with a swim every hour. No one would notice I wasn't here. I wouldn't be expecting anything.

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