I really ought to make a real blog somewhere--either here on on my website. I'd planned to do it on my website but I keep making announcements instead...sigh...I broke off right in the middle of a story to write this.
Also, I should read a number of blogs to find out how to blog. I'm so uninformed that I don't really know. Should I just talk about what I do? That's boring. I write. I write. I write some more and when It lets me off the leash ("It" is the thing in my head that says I really ought to be writing) I go looking for a new house. I'm in an in-between-houses-house now and it has only the basics of my furniture. I need a new house, but it has to be the right house. I don't think the details of my house-that-turned-out-to-belong to the Russian mafia would be appreciated here.
I guess I could write about how much I miss my mother. She died--it's so funny, but even as I write the words I don't believe them--she died just over a year ago. If my whole family isn't in therapy after that, they should be. Strangely, it's very hard--still--to take in. I guess everyone who's had a loved one die feels that way.
In the beginning I had a hallucination. These were days when I wasn't sleeping well, due to the funeral rush and my own memory of that last night holding her hand. I thought I saw her in our (my family's) house. It was just for an instant, and out of the corner of my eye, but I did have that. I wonder just how many other people do?
Now, I still wake up and think, "Oh--I've got to tell Mom...." or during the day I think "I want Mom's opinion on this." And for a second I'm just really confused before I remember. I don't know if that kind of thinking is really okay, but I've heard that the second year is the hardest. That's kind of scary. I just bless her and the Universe and God and whoever else is up there for allowing me to write again. That was the greatest gift, and however I grieve this year, I've been too busy to get really morbid
Thank you, Mom. Somehow I know that you had something to do with this.
Well, today's Super Tuesday, but I'm not going to write about politics here! Besides, I worry so much that the winner, our next President, will go down in history as the woman or man who couldn't fix all our foriegn polictics problems. I wouldn't take the job myself if you begged me, but I guess I'm not qualified to have a solid opinion about it. I just worry that things will never come out right in the MIddle East.
I guess I've blogged enough for somebody who doesn't know how.
Lisa
Also, I should read a number of blogs to find out how to blog. I'm so uninformed that I don't really know. Should I just talk about what I do? That's boring. I write. I write. I write some more and when It lets me off the leash ("It" is the thing in my head that says I really ought to be writing) I go looking for a new house. I'm in an in-between-houses-house now and it has only the basics of my furniture. I need a new house, but it has to be the right house. I don't think the details of my house-that-turned-out-to-belong to the Russian mafia would be appreciated here.
I guess I could write about how much I miss my mother. She died--it's so funny, but even as I write the words I don't believe them--she died just over a year ago. If my whole family isn't in therapy after that, they should be. Strangely, it's very hard--still--to take in. I guess everyone who's had a loved one die feels that way.
In the beginning I had a hallucination. These were days when I wasn't sleeping well, due to the funeral rush and my own memory of that last night holding her hand. I thought I saw her in our (my family's) house. It was just for an instant, and out of the corner of my eye, but I did have that. I wonder just how many other people do?
Now, I still wake up and think, "Oh--I've got to tell Mom...." or during the day I think "I want Mom's opinion on this." And for a second I'm just really confused before I remember. I don't know if that kind of thinking is really okay, but I've heard that the second year is the hardest. That's kind of scary. I just bless her and the Universe and God and whoever else is up there for allowing me to write again. That was the greatest gift, and however I grieve this year, I've been too busy to get really morbid
Thank you, Mom. Somehow I know that you had something to do with this.
Well, today's Super Tuesday, but I'm not going to write about politics here! Besides, I worry so much that the winner, our next President, will go down in history as the woman or man who couldn't fix all our foriegn polictics problems. I wouldn't take the job myself if you begged me, but I guess I'm not qualified to have a solid opinion about it. I just worry that things will never come out right in the MIddle East.
I guess I've blogged enough for somebody who doesn't know how.
Lisa
