Friday, January 4, 2019

January 4th - Already Behind

I have so many posts written and sitting in my inbox, waiting to be copied and pasted and posted.

What’s stopping me?

I have no idea.

I wrote about Christmas and how different it feels this year than last. Different better, for the record.

I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just post them day after day after day for the next week just to catch myself up. I often feel like this blog is a journal for my girls. Someday, (tomorrow if it’s Alyssa, who reads often) they can check out my meandering thoughts, my worries, my joys (them).

I gave my dad a journal for Christmas that has writing prompts. I told him that I hoped he write in it and share it with me. He turned 79 just before Christmas and I feel the march of time in both him and me. I want to know his story, his life, his joys and memories. I want to keep it to pass on to my girls so they can remember him and me. It’s how we humans attain immortality.

I should spend more time with my grandma, writing down her stories, her memories. She lived a very interesting life, born in 1924, married young (18, which probably wasn’t young for her time but damn, 18!) and then she went on to have twelve children, no twins. She raised those kids with an alcoholic husband who I think was mean to her, maybe not physically (but I don’t know that for sure) but definitely mentally.

I spend a lot of time with my mom but I don’t know all her stories. I want to know them. I should ask her more questions, get her a journal too, remind her to write it all down so we can remember and pass it on.

I was invited to join a Facebook group that brings together cancer fighters/survivors. The woman who runs it found me on Instagram and invited me through that. She’s a three-time cancer survivor. THREE TIME! I mean, damn. Can you even freaking imagine? Well, I can, actually because I’ve imagined it over and over again. Every single pain I have has me imagining that it’s cancer again, so…yeah.

But it’s nice to connect, even virtually, with other survivors, to know that my panic over the fact that my stupid eye is bloodshot (could it be because of a tumor in my toe?! WHO KNOWS!) is normal, it’s natural, it’s something that I just have to power through.

Please pardon my melodrama.


Happy New Year

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