I have been feeling a tad charred around my creative edges for a few weeks. I realized that I write everyday and have done so for over two years now. It may not seem like much to anyone right now, but I don’t think I have ever worked this hard at anything in my life. And so, I decided to step back, think and plan. What comes next? That is the question foremost in my mind and on more fronts than just the writing.
As Suzy would say, it’s time for a bit of 10-10-10. I’ve pondered asking her for a bit of an assist, but she has had her hands full this summer as her husband was quite ill for a time. I don’t like to presume on friendships anyway, but I am less likely to ask for help when someone is dealing with things more important than simply career and life goals. More on my plans next week.
So I settled into the mommy life this last week with swim lessons and dog sitting for Edee. The latter of which brought an epiphany. I am not cut from pet owner cloth regardless of how sweet the pet might be.
I began purging for the hamlet-wide garage sale at the end of the month and found, to my dismay, we still own far too many things we don’t use. This does not bode well for us when Rob’s transfer number eventually comes up in the coming year. We have to be able to travel lighter for the foreseeable future and we are fat.
I jumped another widow hurdle with what would have been the tenth anniversary of my marriage to Will. It was made more difficult by the sense of obligation and my lack of enthusiasm for such obligations and by the fact that I feel inferior because of it. Dee has been especially chatty about her father these days and the older girls have planned a commemorative picnic for next week to honor Shelley’s passing, and I am left feeling terrible because I am okay with not doing these things: talking about the past, creating shrines, “celebrating” anniversaries. My mom is planning a birthday party for Dad at the end of the month. August is a month of birthdays in my family. More family members had August birthdays than any other month and there was always a get-together.
Anyway Rob and I talked about it and agreed that the past simply is and that it’s unproductive to feel obligated to it unless we derive some sort of comfort from it. I find grief exhausting enough when it is roused from its slumber by random circumstance without purposely poking at it like a child with a stick.
I also had sibling issues and updates. When I told Rob about them his comment was,
“I should have vetted your family more thoroughly.”
But that is a two way street.
I wrote a few 50 Something pieces although I am still unsure about my involvement there and the mom0sphere in general. They are both good pieces. The one on health care is my favorite.
And finally, I need to acknowledge the Lovely Blog award I received from Silverstar. I am rarely honored with such things. I am not edgy like my friend Lora who gets the coolest awards and I am not charming enough to inspire cuddly awards, nor am I brave enough to ask and receive. I toil away in anonymity with just my few dear, gentle readers for company.
6 thoughts on “And It’s Friday”
Aaaack! I *knew* I would get in trouble with that awarding business. How to choose, how to choose…
No worries. I was just illustrating a point.
and I *did* say that very few of us widow bloggers were charming in what we wrote!
Exactly. I knew that I didn’t qualify at all.
i feel cold for not grieving in more conventional ways… my grief is personal, and i would not expect others to grieve in the same manner. so long as you meet Dee where she is regarding her methods of processing it, i don’t see why you should feel compelled to do anything under a sense of obligation. perhaps it’s much healthier to manage it in your manner?
Ah, cold, heartless, and worse were some of my middle names back in my “active” phase on the widda board. My drum line keeps me real but so completely out of step.