Today i’ve turned off all the kitchen lights, and am typing by computer screen, sparkle lights and a damp grey morning. soft wool.
people are really lovely, they really are. above all. cashmere.
and still, yesterday i almost crawled back into my bed while the kids were here. it can be done, but i can only handle it when there is no will left in my body, and vomit is coming forth.
so i must have some will left in my body while the fog is here. i stay out of bed while kids are here. old school corduroy, stiff, scratchy.
but man, this grief is hitting hard this year. and its been five years, so there isn’t a real trigger, except in realizing how much time has passed and how mad i am at my dad for not being here for these five years, and how i would really like to have him around, mad or not. and how i still look for him everywhere. piles and piles of washed cotton, cold and damp.
its been a big five years.
i think i’d still be unhappily married if it weren’t for what his death showed me. it uncovered the truth of my unhappiness. the untrustworthy man, the unreliable man, the inexplicable man that i was married to brought Bold in the loss of what in many ways was his opposite. the things i loved so about my husband were washed out by the things which really make him ‘not the marrying sort’… no matter how many times he tries.
and here i am, swamped into the tub, barely reaching the lip to see out. turning down work, or asking for delays while i sink. flannel.
its been a big five years. plasticwrap. (not fabric, but still. how it feels.)