I’ve been having a very difficult time focusing in the past couple of days. I had a friend come visit over the weekend and it was lovely. but i had work to do, and didn’t do it. and i still have work to do, and am still not doing it. (evidence? this. right here. in front of you.)
Its the holidays, its the car, its the surreal nature of all of life. i feel very disassociated from it, and in my fog i await january. and so i have a hard time getting things done.
its the anniversary-time of my father’s death five years ago, so my family is feeling different levels of the same thing, so there is no one readily at hand to snap me out of it.
and i’m not entirely sure that they could, even if they existed.
I’m not doing the article i need to do. this will have repercussions.
i’m not going grocery shopping for the deluge of family that will arrive on saturday. this will have repercussions.
somehow in my fog i know i’ll get it all done anyhow, or at least the minimum will get done… but i think i need some dissipating breeze… a whiff of something-not-turkey.
maybe you’ll just find me again in January.
I posted this photo on instagram that i literally do not recognize as myself. I’m going to share it here because it is an experience of being in the fog, literal. I do not know who that person is. for real.
Fog of grief. But it rolls, it risings, it gives way. I am waiting for the rise this week.
I would name the fog Grief. It settles in for a while but it will lift. Do something today or tomorrow or this week and brings you closer to your Dad. Sit and be still and quiet there. I think you will feel him with you. Then forge ahead as he has taught you.
Much love to you Kate.
Thank you lovely. I know it will lift, I do. but the moments in the depths of it are still surprising to me. still. love to you too.