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    My daily writing--emails, journal entries, marginalia, more emails, blog posts, and tweets--shapes me as a writer, helping and hindering the big stuff I'm trying to accomplish. Every word counts.

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Subject to Change

I want to say something about Change, if only because Change has had its say (flipping me off, mostly) and deserves one of my sharp retorts. This summer, my father died, our oldest dog died, a tree fell on our house. Those are some major “fuck-yous”–depressingly final.

Even the positive changes have been major and leave me unsure where things are, metaphorically and literally. We had new flooring installed in our family room and office, which required completely clearing those rooms and removing the carpet. At work, my department just moved to a new space, so there’s a lot of unpacking to do amid all the usual prep work for the semester that begins in a week.

What I really want is to leave things where they are for a week or two. I have vacation time left, so it’s possible, but it’s not a good idea. I wouldn’t be able to relax and would return to work feeling even more overwhelmed. Taking leave of reality only works for fictional characters with unlimited resources. “I’ll send for my things,” they say. How much does that cost? I have a feeling if I have to ask, I can’t afford it.

I don’t want to stop and mope, but I know it’s not a good idea to soldier on without time to reflect. As the shock of loss wears off, disbelief lingers. I woke up a few days ago and thought I saw Sophie lying on the bed, but it was light playing off the wadded sheet. I dreamt last night that dog heaven is actually on Earth, somewhere in one of the northern, central states, so in my dream I was planning a road trip to find her. As for Dad, every day I see news about some gadget I want to tell him about, or I think of a question I want to ask him next time we talk. I look at pictures of him and want to hug him so hard that, if he were still alive, I would just end up crushing him to death.

Time is all that will help me at this point. And timing. I’m going to keep grieving deaths and dealing with life on my schedule. Sometimes it will help to talk, and other times I’ll need to sit by myself. As needed, I’ll speak up, close my office door, force a laugh, write contemplative blog posts, go offline.

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One Response

  1. I know how you feel. I was in slumberland the other night when I felt our cat cautiously making his way through maze of blankets on our bed. But our cat passed away two years ago. We still mourn him.

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