Tuesday, April 9, 2013

"Spring Will Come" *

Ok. The 5 kittens are back at Angels of Assisi because they have coccidia, which can be deadly for such small life. Just a warning, and I will keep you updated. A young woman who works at Angels is fostering them, despite losing two kittens last year to the disease. Solitude has a new aspect with their disappearance. The unicorn meat eating cats are very loving today.

Today is my day. I am 49 years old today, not 49 years young. That young thing only applies once the 80th birthday kicks in. Today, I am thinking of passing, as we all do. Did you know it is Ok to think about death on your birthday?

Harry Golden, a remarkable writer, once pointed out that, after your parents are dead, that you stand as the last bulwark against death and the younger generation.


The grass is growing. I am not nostalgically thinking of days cutting the grass, but admiring the emeraldness of it all. More trees are in bloom, and the grape hyacinths bloom in the grass here and there, at random and carefree. The pool is still the pond, neglected this year, so far. I would love to plant something today, but it is too early yet. But I might get myself some mint today, and plant it in a pot. At the Old House, I had three varieties of mint, and I miss the scent.

I don't particularly want this day to be nostalgic. 'Past tripping' is bad for the soul and I have a prescription from my therapist, specifically warning me away from it. So today, I will remind myself that my happiness is not dependent upon other people, they will fail us, as they are only human. I am responsible for my happiness or contentment, or whatever you and I call it, 3 hours before I take my anti-Evil pills.

I am having the hardest time writing this post. I miss my mother, first of all. I miss waking up early, to run and celebrate with her. I miss knowing that, no matter how early I woke, she wanted to be awake with me, and to relive what she described as the happiest day of her life. I don't miss my youth. I miss my mother. I loved the early morning discussion about what kind of cake I would buy for us on our day. I don't miss how much she hated asking me to buy my own card. I truly did not mind, it was a card for us on our day.

The right side of my face is very tender today. I have a headache. I have been having sore spots coming up on my head that bother me so much my doctor sent me to get a CT scan. Next up is the neurologist, and then an immunologist. 'We' know it's not a brain tumor. But it's hard to think it may be something trivial, when I feel the slightest touch will break my face.

And I wait to hear from my brother, and a woman I consider closer than a sister.

 I realize that 'past tripping' is part of the urge that makes me a writer. But, after a winter of it, I need to move on. So, today, I will color my mandala, maybe watch a Harry Potter, have lunch with a friend and love the ones who can't be with me today, except in spirit.


*My mother always wrote this on my birthday card.



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