Sunday, February 07, 2010

Having trouble finding my voice

I have had a lot of things going through my head of late, but I'm having trouble articulating them in any fashion that makes sense to anyone else. But because I've been writing fairly regularly lately, I figured I should put something down so you all know I didn't get hit by a truck or anything. I might have to resort to a bulleted list however.

So, in no particular order, here are about ten days of random thoughts and occurrences:

I got be spend the night of the State of the Union address in Washington DC. Although I have been there several times, I've actually never gotten to go look at any of the tourist-y parts of it before. I was lucky this time, however, in that my friend Maria and I found ourselves with a free afternoon when it was sunny and in the 40s. We decided to go walking and check out the city a bit. We were rewarded, not only with a chance to go take totally stupid pictures of ourselves and each other in front of the White House, but also with finding a fabulous bistro, serving Pays d'Oc fare, across the street from the Ford's Theater. So Fabulous Lunch + 5-mile walk on a sunny afternoon + touristy goodness + true friendship = the nicest afternoon I've spent in quite awhile - certainly the nicest since Kiersten died. Yay. Oh, and we got to watch the SOTU in the lobby bar of the Mandarin Oriental hotel, nibbling oesetra caviar on toast points and drinking cognac. It didn't suck.

I find that I am more functional, mentally, than I have been thus far. However, when the whole grief thing does come on, it strikes with a viciousness I never could have imagined. This scared the devil out of me for awhile, but then I saw an article in the New Yorker that basically said, "yep; you'll have that." It also suggests that grief builds for about six months for most people and then starts to get better. So I guess we have awhile longer to tough this out before it's actually going to improve.

I went house-hunting with my friend Joyce today. She's looking to move back from Texas with her husband Mike. I've written about them before. We found a beautiful -- and by beautiful, I mean head-for-the-mountains stunning -- home on an equally stunning piece of property. With all the goodies they need to take care of their horses. And it's only about a half-hour from our house. This could be a very good thing. We spent an enormous amount of time with them before Kes was born; they moved away when she was still very young. I'm looking forward to having them home; I think they may be part of our healing.

Daisy Mae has started saying "I love you". She also called me "mom" the other day. These may seem like little things, but around here, they're a pretty damn big deal. Especially since the first I love you came about a half hour after I busted her for sexting (a bra and panties shot sent to one of the boys at school via MySpace) and we had a long talk about what building an ugly reputation in school can do to the rest of your life. It's true what they say -- kids desperately want to know that you care enough to stop them from hurting themselves.

We've decided to stop going to Karate. Even though I dearly love the people who run the local dojo, it's just too, too painful for us to go back there. Kiersten loved it there very much and we can't walk in without seeing her. So we're looking at the health club down the street for an exercise option. I need it desperately.

Well, I guess we've progressed from "I got nothin" to a full-fledged update. I'll find my voice to write about something other than a newsreel in a bit. For one, I have a flyer advertising for a local writer's contest for which entries are due April 1. I took first prize in this competition a couple of years ago, and because of that, I haven't entered since. But I'm not proud -- I need a little pick-me-up right now and I need to focus on writing a piece of fiction before my brain forgets how to do it.

So gentle readers, I will leave you with one final thought: Just like the world feels new after a big thunderstorm, or looks beautiful and clean after a blizzard, our emotional selves can feel purified by a storm of tears. I've learned a lot about the usefulness of crying in the last few weeks. If you're feeling out of sorts lately, I recommend indulging in a good 20-minute pity party. It'll help. I promise.

10 comments:

bhd said...

Having recently held safe loving space for a dear friend unloading a few years worth of frustration and grief, and seeing the lightness in her being - yeah. I'm with you on that.

Somehow, I can't get near it. Don't even know which direction to go. I could use a good screaming, stringy-running-snot cry like Mel had the other night.

themommarocks said...

your strength is inspirational. thank you.

Sue said...

thank you once again as i need to get on from a negative wasted energy that is buzzing around me...so tomorrow i shall write about you..

Beanie said...

Ca,

We should find a place to meet. You can scream, and then I can scream, and then we can both blow our noses, check each other for goat hair, and go get a martini. Whaddya think?

bhd said...

Excellent idea, Bean. That house on PEI is available.

Justine's HouseWreck said...

Can I come along with you and Ca? Pretty please?

Beanie said...

Gosh, the lot of us girls in a cabin in PEI for a four-day weekend? With a good cry and a martini? Throw in a decent pot of coffee and damn, that sounds like heaven.

bhd said...

It has 4 bedrooms, 2 baths, a formal dining room, very well-equipped kitchen, and a large living room/greatroom combo with windows all around. Just say the word and I'll find a way.

bhd said...

http://www.percyhill.ca/

Mississippi Songbird said...

The time in DC sounds fun. I'm so glad it made you smile.. I've been one time and that was about 18 years ago before I got married. The local high school was going to band competition and they had 5 chartered buses. They needed some extra grown-ups to go to get their discounts..lol I did make some grown-up friends. We went to the touresty places..I got to meet Frank Stallone ( Sylvester's brother) in a hotel nightclub. The bus ride made my ankles swell coming back home though... Next time I go, I'm going to fly..