Tuesday, June 19, 2007

I'm a weepy mess, and you?

Ah, it's not that bad. More like I go through the motions at work, which wasn't anything new pre-Dad; the difference is something sets me off afterward and I collapse literally or figuratively into a puddle. Screaming in the car helps. I used to do that when I was depressive-sick in college, so I don't feel so bad now about ruining my voice a little more. Mostly I'm just letting myself cry whenever it strikes. Occasionally it sneaks out at work still. Yesterday I was answering an email from Lil Bro at home, and the tears just flowed, because we were talking about Dad. I just rage with the knowledge that he's gone from this plane, that I'll never see him again in this life. On Saturday I was unpacking boxes and I found a birthday email he'd sent me 5 years ago. He changed a lot as he got older, became more nostalgic and emotionally accessible. The email talked about walking up and down the front lawn on Ferris Avenue, our first house, walking me to sleep on his shoulder, waiting for my little arm to slide down as a sign that I was out, and then carefully bringing me upstairs to bed. I just crumbled. The physical ache of it hasn't gone anywhere yet. Les called his dad on Father's Day, and I made some quip like, yeah, would've been nice if I could've done that too, but by the end of the wisecrack, the tears had caught up to my voice. I've been feeling distinct sorrow this week. Which makes me feel self-centered, because I know Dad would be ticked by the way we're carrying on with the grief, but I just remind myself that he never had a clue of his self-worth in this life, so he needs to let us grieve for him in our own ways. That's usually followed by a, so there!

Life goes on though. Started reading At Home in Mitford again; gonna try to read the whole series through. Damn books are so well-written and fun, it doesn't bother me at all that they're steeped in the concept of JC as the Lord and Savior. The author (and her main character, Father Tim) takes such a literary and philosophical view on the Bible, I'm able to read the quotes from it and be uplifted. Or put my own spin on them, so that they reach me with similar intent...I mean think about it...Phillipians 4:13 my version: I can do all things through Spirit, which strengthens me. The other one that sticks in my head is, deliver thy works unto Spirit, and thy thoughts will be established. Sound ideas for raising faith and organized thought, with just a little twist. Hey, it works for me, and that's what's important.

What else? I found that other skein of Color Waves for the random wrap; thing's gonna be 8 skeins long, I think, before I'm finished. Which'll be fabulous and comfy :) Kyle XY seems like the only decent thing on TV right now. 200 channels and no attention span. I cooked dinner and cookie bars for work last night, got settled finally to watch the tube and unwind, and there's wasn't a damn thing to hold my interest after 9 p.m. Should've exercised, but my body's been one big ache since starting the water pill. Luckily, I found out why; called the doc like a good girl and she's called in a Rx for potassium. Good thing, because I'm getting serious about this healthy diet and lifestyle thing. I have to; the last thing I want to do is be trying for kids while I'm still battling high BP, the potential for gestational diabetes, and lord knows what else. So I made the painfully mature decision to chill out on the baby-making thoughts until after Christmas. That should work til about September, when I hit 38 and my friend Lynn pushes out her 2nd son. Gonna try to lose some weight, get the BP down, get healthier first. Man, this decision sucks, but of course, it's so prudent for my and any future small Johnsons' well-being, that I can't even argue with myself.

Got my hair cut; it's adorable...looks like Terra's, just thicker. Les hates it, bitched all weekend (he LOVES my hair long), 'til I finally explained to him that I've been crawling out of my skin since we got back from CT, and if I didn't get it cut, I would've tried to take the scissors to it myself. He's been fantastic with the hugs though, and getting me to cry when I need to. People may shake their heads at how we've been living on love, so to speak, for so long, with him out of work, but it's the easiest damn thing to do when I look into those brown eyes. Totally whipped. And always hopeful; we both have such capacity for growth, I know our future lies well beyond these tough times (she says as an airplane engine drops on her head). Dad's passing has certainly brought home the inability to take time for granted. Hence all this positive talk that will, I pray, turn into action.

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