since Barbara and i were so close together in age, it was only natural that we had to share a lot of things. we shared a room for ten years, give or take. toys, school supplies and clothes. mostly clothes. mainly clothes. Continue reading
there is no absolute silence. even in that anechoic chamber there is no silence. you’ll hear your own heartbeat. your own breath. your blood flowing through your veins. i’d like to think that in the after life, the idea of heaven is absolute silence. not the kind that drives you insane but the kind that brings you peace. Continue reading
probably something we all wish we had when we’re enjoying our lives, more time. even though time is such a strange concept. un-real because we made it up. there is no such thing as a minute. an hour. and while i think we don’t really use time in the right way, we sure as hell scatter it all over the place.
only time will tell. give it time. time is money. time flies. time heals all wounds. etc. etc.
as is custom, we had a picture up at the funeral, next to her coffin. i can’t remember if i was involved in the process of picking it or not. it’s all a little hazy now. either way the picture was a good one. a smiling Barbara, en face, hair falling down her shoulders with the grand canyon in the background. simple yet majestic and happy. the picture embodies her personality to a t.
to say that i’m afraid of getting cancer is like saying that there are a lot of drops of water in the pacific ocean. an understatement as vast as the universe. well. not quite as vast but very nearly.
that’s a hot shots reference. stupid, i know. i mean no disrespect but humour helps me deal with difficult situations.
i’ve been mulling over whether or not to write some more about condolences in general. i went back and forth. finally i came to the conclusion that there should be a post about it. it would make me feel better. and if i were to read this as someone who had never lost anyone before, i think it would help me handle other people’s grief a bit better. i’m sure i’ve reacted badly in the past. maybe not badly but inappropriately.
by the time I was five years old, I was already being introduced to my fifth language. this in itself is great, of course it is. but at the time, it caused me a lot of anxiety even though I might not have been aware of it then. I can see now that it has had a lasting effect on me both in a positive and a negative sense.
it’s been a while, I know. it doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped thinking about writing or that I’ve stopped grieving. the 5 year anniversary is coming up and it has certainly been on my mind. august in general does this to me. august is when the shit hit the fan, when it all came pouring down. when the shitstorm unveiled itself in all its horrendous glory.
belong is a song that i wrote in the winter that followed Barbara’s death, sometime in december. i used to write songs when i was a teenager but kind of put it on hold until recently. i just didn’t have anything to say, i guess.
asking for help is not exactly a hobby of mine. it’s not about pride or anything like that. i can see two reasons for this. one, it’s because i like to solve things on my own either because i’ve been trained to do so – the curse of the middle child, i suppose – or because i just need my own pace, my own amount of time. and two, i sometimes don’t even realize that i need help. the simpler answer is usually the right one. in this case, i can be oblivious to my own needs.