-
silence and absence
My mother left when I was twelve. My timeline between eleven and fourteen has always been sketchy at the best, but I know with certainty I lived alone with my dad when I was fourteen. There were times I cried so hard I hyperventilated, and that led to my cheeks going numb. My father believed…
-
ghost
This has been ruminating in me for some time now while the Indigo Girls lyric “I’m in love with your ghost” plays on loop in my head. I have been “dating” since August last year and have met a few fine people and many ok people during that time. Sometimes communication just stops abruptly and…
-
crunch
This is my sewing box that I inherited from my grandmother Betty. It has had a broken hinge for years and contained things I never looked at but that always brought me joy. I have blogged about it before (the 1970s jean patches and zippers, many amazing buttons, antique thread, and her old dull sewing…
-
3:28am
I come from a long line of non-sleepers. My stepfather once told me I was not a morning person because I normally got up around 6 am. My mother, father, and stepfather all routinely wake up before 5. Today I beat them all. To be fair, I have jet lag. We returned from a two-week…
-
beginnings
In a magical turn of events, the cardboard hoard that had been accruing outside my recycling bin has finally been removed. It had been growing since Christmas with large gifts, followed by January when a new tenant moved in downstairs. I purchased a new sofa that came in four large boxes. And so it went.…
-
closing time
Today was a day of letting go. Three very different people who have seen me through very different parts of my life all spent time talking to me today by phone, by text and in person. Three men. I believe all three care for me and want me to be well. One was signing off…
-
possum
From 26 January until 22 February, the dead possum hung on our electrical lines. Clinging, evaporating, but staying. My mother was visiting and asked the people working on the lines if they could remove it. They said sure and left it there. On 22 February, I went to the memorial service for a wonderful friend…
-
sharing and unsharing
Firing up the blog again, and linking especially to what was private for a very long time, has me questioning why I am such an oversharer. I can blame my American upbringing, but half of my parentage is very private. The other half believes all truth is good and it must be shared. I have…
-
memory hoarding
When I wasn’t writing here, I was writing at an alternate blog that was private called “memoryhoarding” rather than hoarding memory. D’s memory was going and I was trying to keep myself sane. He read this blog but didn’t know the other existed. It allowed me to write to no one and not hurt him…
-
triggered
There has been a dead possum hanging on the electrical lines in front of my house since Thursday. I noticed it while I was on the phone with someone I didn’t know well, and I chose not to explain. I could see the possum’s tail was stuck to one wire and its forearm was tightly…
-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
hoarding memory 