| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- mourning the loss of autumn It's the second weekend in November and yet it still feels like summer around here with temperatures near the 80s. I am mourning the loss of autumn. I check the weather forecast obsessively. Ten days from now it's projected to still be in the mid-70s. I feel mournful in general. Today I'm in a small town about an hour northeast of my home. I'm here for the weekend to write. I rented an AirBnB, which feels indulgent, which is perhaps why I'm so annoyed to find that the homeowner's office is directly adjacent to the space I've booked. He started working at 7 a.m. and his inside voice is so loud. I've been sick all week and I thought this might be at last a chance to sleep well but, alas, I was still up much of the night coughing. And so today I am very grouchy. Tired and headachy and irritated with the homeowner and feeling like I'm wasting time and money. I ventured out for a few hours to get some food and during the outing I realized I'd lost my debit card--I probably left it in the ATM after depositing a check yesterday. Anyway, by the time I got back to this place and sat down at my computer I just burst into tears for no goddamned good reason. Mostly I'm OK these days, but being mostly OK still means being pretty sad a lot of the time. The two things co-exist, sliding along planes that sometimes intersect. Of course I'm thinking of my mother a lot and what it means to mourn someone. Before my mother got sick I thought she would live into her 90s and die a peaceful death from old age. I thought it would make me sad but that it'd be at a time when I'd expect it. And, honestly, looking back now that's probably bullshit--it'd probably still be really hard that way--but that's little consolation anyway because she's gone and we had so little time to prepare for it and how do you even prepare anyway? I just want to hear her voice again. I want her to be able to talk to my brothers, I want her to hug me and listen to the things I'm doing in my life. I want her to be proud of me but also sometimes disappointed with the choices I make. I just want her to be here. Thanksgiving was her favorite holiday. Maybe summer's stubborn lingering is the universe's way of recognizing her loss. The very air around us isn't ready to face her absence. 4:05 pm - 08.11.19
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i know you think i'm kinda strange - 28.01.20 - 9:20 pm I was even younger once - 19.01.20 - 1:29 pm Bienvenue à la maison - 12.01.20 - 1:12 pm bonjour - 26.12.19 - 4:39 pm the lean slant of December's light... - 04.12.19 - 8:18 pm |
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