After Pa

Part one of two:
Tough day today. I think it lasted two or three days. If you read my previous post about procrastinating and blah, blah, blah ….Well, I finally got my butt out of my too comfy recliner, cuz I knew staying there was not good for me in any possible way. So, I say to myself silently, “What helps me smile and chuckle faster than I can typo “purrrfect?” Phototriking with Mazie the dog monkey princess, of course ! I knew I needed to ride somewhere that requires more physical force than our leisurely alley rides- I had to get some serious Sheeeyat out of my body. And no I don’t mean that literally- this time.

I loaded up my trike with everything The Monk and I need: soccer ball, oxygen tank, water bowl and poopy bags for monkey and coconut water for me, bike light and flashing reflectors, ALS WALK promo material, tent, fire wood, lanterns. ( Oops. I got mixed up with my camping list from the last time I was able to camp – two years ago- three ? Oh no ! Feeling sorry for myself ? Me ! Nah…) The last thing I did was strap on my Sony Walkman and listen to a mixed CD my dear friend Julie Bowin made for me ( before she died obviously.) And yes, I’m safe and only use one earphone. This time the lyrics of each song sang directly to my grief, my raw, unbridled grief. And that was okay. I feel so free to feel my feelings outdoors -my free range feelings. As the sun went down and the sky turned darker , so did my mood. Oh yeah, I forgot to sAY that when my emotions were too big to be silent and I wanted to give them words, I stopped to free range type on my PHONE. feelings See Part Two of Two.

Part two of two
Triking in the dark with Mazie. I am crying as I listen to Jackson Brown, John Lennon, Bonnie Raitt, that big song from the movie “Once.” My dad died Monday Sept 7th an hour after I left his bedside where I’d been for eight days.

I feel so, so sad. Deeply to my core sad. I haven’t felt this sorrowful emptiness since Mom died. Why now? big hole. big hole that opened up wide for all losses . All losses too visual . Too loud . Too hurt. These are My losses that for today. I will not let them be philosophically and spiritually wiped away. My real, wounds untended. Not edited. Not glossed. Not spiked with humor here & there. I am 13. I am 55. I am alone. I am embraced. I am with. I am without. I know why I am here. I am here to help. This knowledge does not numb the intense nothingness. Deep. Difficult introspection is that. Deep. Difficult. I can cry. I cry. My body heaves like it did more than 40 years ago. But now I am not 13. Am I lost. No. I only feel like I’m lost . I know what to do. When to. How to. My own death. My own dying is not sad. For me. For you it is. I am so sorry that you will feel loss. I hope not lost. You are here. So am I .

What does lost mean. What does loss mean. And now. Here I am. Back in my head. I am not in my core, my torso. I am in my head. I’m not crying now. Damn it..
The sun goes down. The moon comes up.







I’m sinking. I’ll sink into the pink. It’ll be okay there. I’ll be okay there. Here. But where do I sink ? Sink fully. I can sink now. I Will sing. I will sing later. Now I’m just sinking. Damn it ! Damn it. Feel it. Fully. It’s okay. I’m okay. The pink is not dark.

Comments on: "After Pa" (1)

  1. I love you Cathy! I’ve lost my mom and stepdad within the last 8 months, and there is sweetness, unquenchable sorrow and profound gratitude for me. Thank you for your openness and free feeling, and for sharing it with so many many people who love you, including me.
    love love love,
    ps. the dancing Buddha you gave me still boogies on my dashboard…

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