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 Delanie earlier today. Delanie 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 how much time was passing or things I needed to get done. 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 the 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,

CNC – Cibolo Nature Center at the bridge to the Marsh


someone is visiting and you are talking and being sociable, but we share a look,  and we are grinning.  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


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