Tuesday, January 05, 2010

this week

If I had to pick a favorite week of the year.
I would pick this one.

This week. Just after New Year's and not yet time to go back to school and work.
This week. That begins with a late morning after a very late night. And is spent in pajamas.
This week. To gear up for real life. But still live in that time of twilight. Where the world is new again and work/homework are not yet back.

This week. Where the calendar starts over and is bright with new beginnings.
This week. This new year. Is different for me.
(That is not a surprise to anyone reading this blog.)

I have hunkered down. I have been reclusive.
In this week that is thought to be full of thoughts for a new future. I am thinking only of the past. I am not looking forward to more tomorrows. I am pining for more yesterdays.

This week, last year, Michael and I went to two movies. And put together Lego Star Wars pieces. And played Uno. He tried to teach me Stratego. But I didn't get it. He filmed army men videos. And we stayed in our pajamas and watched Elf for the hundredth time.

And the favorite week ended. Life began again in the form of school and work.

This week, this year.
I am struggling.
My heart is broken into a million tiny little pieces. And just when I think I have it together.
That I can function through my grief. That I can glue some of the pieces back.
I start all over again. With another million tiny little pieces.


Tammy On the Go said...

there will come a day....

justme said...

You have so much courage and self-awareness about your grieving process, even though I bet you think you are so mired down into it that you cannot hardly think straight. I think the acknowledgement and the honesty about your feelings that you give us is astounding. There are no answers or resolutions. You know that. So all you can do is be you, which is what you are doing in a manner that I consider beautiful, poignant, and full of grace. You really are an amazing person. Michael was your gift. But I think you were also his gift. He could not have ever, ever, had a better mommy. As lucky as you were to call him your son - he was equally lucky to call you mommy.

xoxoxoxoxo ~ for you.

southernjoy said...

I couldn't do any better than to echo what was said above.