The Land of Perfect

Today feels like a day of action. I went from paralysis yesterday to action today. I just need to be sure not to put it in overdrive. I'm realizing that when I have those awful days of being lonely, inarticulate, needy and down on myself that it usually means there's a change coming about. If I can catch myself in those moments, then I can do something positive about it. I just hate even having those moments. Why the hell can't I be PERFECT? Nancy, if I don't discover the cure for AIDS today, then I'm throwing in the towel and going to live in those Walgreen ads on TV (you know the ones I'm talking about? Where the sky looks so pretty and people are singing Ahhh Ahhh Ahh Ah in the background?). It's now or never.

A Pleasant Monday

I stayed in most of today and read a great children's book called Kira-Kira by Cynthia Kadohata. I highly recommend it. It takes place in the 1950s, and is about a Japanese-American family trying to make a living in Georgia. It's also about Kate's older sister Lynn's illness and eventual death. Those are the only kinds of books I am reading right now. The end made me cry.
I also made banana bread, went food shopping and bought myself a pair of cute, black nylon, Mary-Jane-like shoes at TJ Maxx for $7.00. How could it get any better?

Note to Nancy: I will help you with all the wedding nonsense just as you helped me. I had to keep reminding myself that the wedding was more for my family than anyone else, and then I felt less guilty about all the money my parents put into it. And I did have fun.

Hitting a Nerve

So it's Saturday again. The weeks have been sliding by in a blur. The past few days have been good, though. On Thursday I realized that I don't need to "feel" sad all of the time. I can be angry, happy, depressed, joyous, tired, withdrawn, hyper, or fearful. Instead of forcing myself to feel sad, and wondering why I can't seem to cry, I can let myself be, and then cry when it comes naturally. This is a BIG relief.
Yesterday marked one month of the date of Ashley's death. It seems like it's been twice that long already. I feel like I'm swimming, or just trying to stay afloat, in the midst of chaos, and I'm waiting for that moment of clarity when it hits me again that Ashley is gone. I know that one day soon I am going to inadvertently pick up the phone to call her, and then will remember that I can't. The whole concept of death is beyond comprehension.
Last night Zach and I were discussing whether or not her spirit was around. Whenever I think of that possibility, it makes me nervous. If the spirit lingers, then is it aware of what is going on in the living world, and, if so, would it have any regrets or would it be lonely? I don't like to think about those possibilities. Whenever I think of Ashley's spirit, I can only think of an evil one. For me it's simpler to just believe that she's just gone, and that there's nothing more. Maybe that will change one day, but for now it keeps the harsh, cold reality of her death in my mind, and I don't want to forget it.

**Nancy, I started the Anne Lamott novel. I showed Janet, and she said she loves Anne Lamott and that she thought she had read all of her books (she hasn't read this one). My friend Liz is also a big Anne Lamott fan. There must be something in her writings that hits a nerve with all of us. Thanks again for the books.

Thinking that I should feel a certain way and that I'm a FREAK if I don't.

I don't have to teach anymore. They found a replacement for me. I'm happy about it, yet also saddened. I have to keep reminding myself that I did the responsible thing by resigning, even though it feels the exact opposite.
I'm feeling kind of numb to everything right now. I keep thinking that I should feel sad or angry or any certain way, and if I don't, then I'm a freak. I'm so afraid that I won't feel the sadness around Ashley's death anymore and that life will go on as normal. What kind of person am I if the death of my own sister doesn't make me sad? I know I'm overreacting, and that I'm such a perfectionist.
The books are great, Nancy. I'm almost finished with "Landscape without Gravity".
Thanks.