The We,

I think that's why I suggested we stop blogging. I'm trying to release you from something I feel is an unpleasant burden and a key of a sort of resentment. Though you rally. Why keep insisting when you have no heart for it? And when I stopped doing that a few months ago, my very posts are the reminder, and the herald of unansweredness. I want to let you go from that. Please let me, let you go. And you can come back when and if you're ever ready. Let this be the last letter.


1. I remember when you first got Bender before I'd visited you off that Shelley Road and what a big deal it was to have taken that leap against certain outside objections, and gotten her and entered petdom in all its beautiful and painful glory. I remember meeting Scott just 3 weeks after you two met, and his friend Mike as I helped you move from out of that one Apartment to this new one.... your glassware, receipts, the strange black grit that coated everything. And the moss that hung from the trees in all its southerness. And feeling very clearly like I was your lady in waiting. Already how together you two seemed to be.


Dear sweet Bender. Now with a Bailey. I hope in her last days, her aging, as we are all dying, though she nears it close, be filled with love and peace. And care and patience. This is your first pet. She is and will always be a big deal. And she is beautiful.


2. I feel the same way about Clif Bars. And wish I didn't have so many good things to snack on at my fingertips sans away workplace. Must walk.


3. I watched the end of ProRun on Hu/u. And was like, hmm. Eh. Ok. I have avoided Downton. As the operatic highs and lows, i cannot take. Though I have finally set to watching all of Parks+Rec.


4. I haven't used my credit card in about 10months. Shoes are falling apart. Clothes are being pushed to the edge, but I'm doing it- with my mom's help of course. But trying to live in some very narrow parameters while I move my parents and myself, while I am in this particular space. And it is a newer non-fatalistic, taking for myself, and palms open up to what God might have in this. We shall see.


5. my mom did a listening prayer for you:


I got the same image of a gift to her, white small box with lavender ribbon that is a symbol of her being loved and deserving of good things.




m.

Letter to the Ether,

I guess we broke the blog. Or that the unexpected fish tank explosion of 2013 really was the last straw. I wish through this time I was unaware of leaving the blog or that I didn't think about talking to it, but I deliberately didn't- my usual test to see if I could give up talking to the ether and I find that I cannot.

So here I am again.

There is something to the slight warping of the floor boards you mention. The imperceptible lift and catch to say I am no longer perfect, no longer a blank slate to act upon and be acted upon but a floor with a story. I suppose it depends how long you live there and who will live to know and pass down this queer day there was a shift and the inexplicable imperfect occurred. It deserves a small humorous plaque I think. The stories I know of my floor are not nearly as daring- fraught with the hazards of carpet and animal or metal or toilets overflowing. I wish it had been more. And the mundane hazards replicated over decades -- thus the scripture. I finally sanded the West bedroom after a couple sermons and worship music and avoidance activities and now the equally arduous task of stain and sealing. The same herculean mental effort.

It is also possible my metabolism is crashing which would explain the extreme fatigue, the brittle nails and hair, weight gain and recurring food intolerance - dairy, frosting? I don't know. If I wasn't afraid of the black Friday or that guy Mayhem I would've gotten some b-supps. I did however take a walk. And it was a beautiful post rain- glisten and gold dripped trees.

It is not lyme's disease however. It is not that... should know more.

But we are tired are we not of all the habitat enrichment and diagnosis that is the human body. But still we must grapple and wrestle out of this mortal shell and cross the divide into that collaborative body of experience, warping boards and all. Beautiful in the patterns we make.

I did almost set the house on fire- but in my defense I didn't know that the large board was soaked in something highly flammable before I put it sideways into the fireplace.

m.