March 18, 2009
Slept about two hours last night before the emotional goblins got rowdy…sometimes I just can’t quiet them down. I tended to them like a cranky barmaid. Tried not to listen to their bar brawl loud-mouth shenanigans. I was stuck relentlessly behind the bar putting in a shift that ended only as the sun came up. My weary body feels sick-to-the-stomach with sleeplessness. I missed Tara’s funeral. A spring snow storm dumped six inches of snow just the perfect consistency to get stuck in. Stuck I was, wearing a short black skirt, digging and swearing in my own driveway. My neighbor Cliff got stuck trying to get me unstuck and swore much louder. We had to borrow a skid steer to get our vehicles out. I haven’t been stuck for years…wonder why I had to get stuck then…fought a few tears and then let it go. Who can argue with such things? Being stuck in snow is a blessing compared to being in an accident. Somehow I was not meant to go. One just has to trust the big picture. I wanted to be emotionally together for my lecture at the Danforth Gallery last night so maybe there was a little blessing in being stuck.But I missed the memorial. I missed the connection with her family and our friends…missed being around others who feel the loss and the void…missed her brothers’ heart wrenching words, the photos, the stories, the catharsis. I hear it was beautiful and sad; emotionally exhausting. I wanted to be there. The night was long. I was stuck in a frustrating shift of sleeplessness, caught in the glare of hustling thoughts and emotions. The goblins clamored for attention. Crowding me, they leaned over the well worn bar…shouted above the din and the smoke and the scum of dark places.