Thursday, July 24, 2014


sometimes, my hands go numb.  And when that happens, I realize my brain is numb.  My heart is numb.  It's been a little over a year.  I feel like I should be able to shout my way to being okay.  I have passed just wanting to be touched, in a physical sense...although I still want that.  I miss his hands.  I miss his touch.  I find I am here, missing a partner...someone to help.

I have been fighting to find strength to miss the MAN I love.  Now I realize I have to find a way to miss and get over (not over, but move beyond without letting go of) the man who was my best friend...

I think I am far more broken than I have been willing to admit.  My shoulders seem sewed to my ears.  And I still do nothing.  My house is a tornado!

It's tough enough to be yourself.  Even when things go more or less like you hope.  I have so many things to be thankful for.  Yet I am still so scared.  So lost.  so quietly connected to so many people, but still so alone.

If anyone is reading this and you have a significant other to sit beside you, let them hold you extra long...kiss them slow and soft.  Tell them something you would otherwise have been embarrassed about...put your head on their shoulder, sigh, and stay just a little longer than normal.

I need to find my way beyond here, where i am lonely to my toes, but not totally alone.

I thank John for our babies and I thank the universe for the amazing people out there who have never let me go, and for those sweet souls new to my world who hold me up.

If I prayed, which is still awkward for me, I'd pray for the strength to make all those people proud.  I am imperfect in my ineptitude and beautiful in my confusion.  I am swollen with the "bruty" of life (Glennon's brutality and beauty)...and I can do nothing to avoid any of it...I will keep stepping, keep swimming, keep dancing.  I will fall on my ass, read more than I clean, and hide more than I should.  But I will also love deeper than anyone ever would have believed.  Inside fear and loss and grief, I will love and try and make an ass of myself, over and over.  For John.  For my mother and grandmothers.  For my daughter.  For my sons.  Because I am good at loving and falling on my face.

step step, spin, twirl, fall, step again.  keep on dancing, keep on swimming.

even though I am scared beyond the understanding of terror.  I smile still.  It's who I am.