Thursday, February 10, 2011

Time To Put On My Snake Boots

I am a swamp today.
I am swamped today.
I've lived here for seven years and I can't remember whether the dump place closes at ten or ten-thirty.
Come on.

Y'all are pretty tired of this, right? I can see people (tens and tens of them!) in Bloglandia, saying, "Come on, ya old bitch! Lighten the fuck up! Life goes on!"

One of Colin's sons, (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree) told us that Colin would look around and say, "Pull yourself together, people!"
And he would have.

He would sit right here across the table from me right this second and say, "Pull yourself together for Christ's sake." Or something like that.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever. Every death brings back every death. And I can go on and on and on about energy and about spring-will-come and I can take walks (theoretically because it's NASTY out there today) and I can get on the exercycle and I can sweep some floors and I can plan the spring garden and I can feed the chickens and I can make the bed and do the laundry and start a soup and get ready for Owen to come and I can think about tomorrow when I'm going to a real hair-dresser person who is going to perhaps make me a redhead and I can count my blessings and I can be ever-so-grateful for everything I have and I can do all of that and yet, the world is torn a bit, there is a hole here and I feel myself being pulled to it, like a rip in the skin of an air craft and no, I'm not holding on with my fingertips but I can feel the weight of it all, pulling me mostly to sit and watch something stupid on television which is something I never do unless I'm sick or mourning or on the exercycle.
Okay. Better get on the exercycle.
Start a soup.

Mr. Moon just called and he sounds better and that cheers me more than anything. My god, I love that man. And when I went out to free the chickens and throw them their corn, I caught Elvis on top of Miss Dolly (the chicken Miss Dolly, not the dog- please!) and he got off her and she shook her feathers out and stood up and went about the business of eating and life IS going on whether or not I am fully participating in it. And I talked to Lily and she said that when she got ready to go to work, Owen said, "Mer-Mer?" because he thought she'd be bringing him now and that cheers me too. He does love his Mer-Mer. I think that many kisses will be in order today. Owen flirted yesterday with the tiny princess doll of a granddaughter of Colin's at the service. "Baby," he called her, although she is two months older than he is. She was dressed so pretty in a gorgeous little dress and white crocheted sweater and little ballet flats pinned to her tights because they were a little too big and there was Owen in his khakis and his plaid button-down shirt and wouldn't Colin have laughed at that?

Oh yes. He would have.

Time to drain the swamp, time to get over it or at least move through the swamp, snake boots on, making my way slowly as I need to to get to dry land, to find my footing, to carry on.


  1. I shall put on my wellies (because I don't have snake boots) today too, and stomp through my own swamp. I thought a lot about you and about Colin and about life and love and choices last night. Especially his decision to not wallow in his fate, not let sorrow precede his passing, but carry on with such dignity and I thought of course, it makes more sense than the urge to tell everyone, wring hands and be sad a minute sooner. I was in awe of his strenght. Mostly deep but good thoughts. Thank you for this post, I really, really needed it today.

    When you described your tattered wings, I thought duct tape. Duct tape can hold almost anything together until a better fix is available. But then you gave me Colin's words. I shall pull myself together today. And then I heard my friend Chris tell me to cheer my ass up, bitch! And so I shall.

    Sending you gratitude for your words today, and your snapshot of life in Lloyd, they thawed my chilly heart. Hugs.

  2. The clouds will clear and you will get through will. But, it will take some time. That's how it goes when you lose someone you loved. You and I know that. Good luck with all you have planned today...remember, it is what it is!
    I love you, babe!

  3. I know we're all different.

    But to me bereavement means needing to wrap myself in cotton wool and do nothing for no one, and be good for nothing but comfort food or tv or talking about the same thing and not expecting anything of myself.

    Maybe that's the wrong way to do it, and it just perpetuates sadness, I don't know. I'd still certainly give myself more than a day, though.

  4. Thomas Moore would recommend settling in with it and
    I am all for bad tv, is there any other kind?
    I think the red hair will brighten things up.

  5. That little Owen will do his best to set your world back on track. Thinking of you. Hugs and love. I wish you a peaceful day.

  6. Mel- Wellies! I love it. I don't really have snake boots either unless you count my red cowgirl boots. And they would do.
    I, too, shall cheer my ass up, bitch! Love it.

    Terry Joy- I know. Why we do set time limits or try to involve logic in grief? It's so ridiculous.

    Jo- We all do it differently. And Owen is coming so there's no real way to be laid back today. That boy requires movement and lots of it.

    handandspirit- How are you and how is your mama? I just watched bad TV and believe me- some is worse than others. I exercycled. I got nowhere. Haha! But I do feel a little better. I guess.

    Angie- And that is the truth!

  7. That's adorable about the safety pins and tights and Owen "flirting."

    Do something for yourself today. One thing. You deserve it.

  8. I've been hybernating (cyber and otherwise) from the unremitting freezes here and missed your sad news about Colin. I'm sorry. There are no words that can replace a lost friend. But I'm thinking of you and hoping for light at the end of the tunnel.

  9. When you pull yourself out of that swamp, come and give Jack and me a hand. We could use it. Thank you for bringing Owen, he and Kati lightened the day on a level even the funniest story couldn't match (well, the one about the medical marijuana came close!). Hugs and kisses, Jan

  10. Nicol- I am doing a lot of things for myself which involve Owen. I know it doesn't quite come under the category of getting a massage but it is joyful.

    Kathleen Scott- Thank-you, dear woman.

    Jan- Oh honey. I wish I could come help. I have Owen today until rehearsal when Mr. Moon will take over. And you know if I brought him, I wouldn't be any help at ALL!
    Weren't the babies lovely yesterday?

  11. Give yourself some time Ms. Moon! x

  12. I love you. That's all I have to impart.

  13. I think draining the swamp is a fine, fine metaphor. Love you Ms Moon.

  14. I am sending some hugs to you right now! (( * ))

  15. I read "blah blah blah....GOING TO BE A REDHEAD"

    I am dancing a jig.

    I am howling at the Moon!

    I want pictures!!!

  16. I'm a really good helper draining swamps. If I hadn't read this so late in the day, I would most certainly have done so. I'm hoping that when you read this, you've had a beautiful night's sleep.

  17. Those gators are there when we drain the swamp so step gingerly. I know that every death brings up others. I am reminded of my own mortality and that of those I love. But I am not afraid and realize that no matter what all will be well. Wishing you peace.

  18. I can't tell you how many times I heard Colin shriek at the top of his lungs "Don't Panic, Don't Panic!" It could be a roller coaster or a glass of spilled milk. It always made you laugh no matter what happened. You couldn't help but laugh.
    I spent Wednesday with friends watching the movie Arthur and laughing and telling Colin stories. No one else could be so direct and so unoffensive. Colin didn't care what you thought as long as you knew where he stood, all was right with the world. He had his rules and he respected everyone elses.

  19. Sirphil- I can hear him say that! "Don't panic!"
    Ah, lah. I miss that man. When we took our bows on the stage at the Opera House a few nights ago, I thought about the last time I'd done that and how Colin had been front and center and I welled up with tears again.
    We shall never meet his match. Ever.


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