The last few Wednesday’s left of Texas winter have been nice. I have been able to work from home. It has been cold and after shopping for the day I am able to build a fire , get in a nice walk and work without interruption for quiet peaceful hours I could not have at the building. I am reclaiming my home again. The timing is perfect.
I could say it is because of Valentine’s day but I am not sure if that is it . I think it started after seeing a post from Delaney earlier today. Delaney is Tom’s daughter from another Mother. A few times I have checked out her profile to see if she has pictures and if she looks like her Dad. Maybe I had seen them before but suddenly two pictures of Tom, from the early seventies were on the screen. One I remember him showing me at the house on Willow and the other I knew because it was a favorite of mine. Pure Tom, being honest and vulnerable, probably loaded, or on his way. I sat looking at him, not a thought of what time it may be or that I was supposed to be getting ready for work. I was lost in memories which have been finding their way through my thoughts quite frequently of late.
One of the things I do like about this place I live in now, is the kitchen. It is a small, good for nothing, no counter space or storage, galley kitchen, but I am no cook and it is not important to me. What is important is I stand at the sink washing dishes, I look towards the door and it reminds me of the apartment at Dutch Village where we first lived together. I see you sitting in the living room,
someone is visiting and you are talking and being sociable, but we share a look, and we each know, we can not wait to be alone again. We were still locked in that world that was just us. Actually, we stayed there throughout most of our marriage .
I get the feeling you are with me for a reason. I have felt you in times of great sorrow, ever since you left this world, as if you were there to comfort me through it. This is a difficult, but healing time. I am coming back . I checked out sometime before Christmas. I told my boss I needed to go and seek some psychiatric care because I was broken. I was not kidding. I tried to get that care too but it did not work. I was “not sick enough” . I was just burnt out….fried…crisp…or the new term compassion fatigued. Shit! I was beat down, had nothing left for me or anyone else, and at the end of my rope. I could not go back to the hell I had been through the past few years but I saw it staring me in the face if I did not do something different. Cycling through the same behaviors and expecting a different outcome after all IS crazy.
I did take a different road though and now I adjust to that. After so many years, it all comes down to the adjustment following decisions.
*note to self – ARIZONA