First, I can’t blog regularly. I’ll try as much as I can, but if I get back home at 11 PM and need to wake up at 6:30, staying up any later is not happening. Hence why I do not blog daily.
Second, I will try to fill up my days with writing-related content as much as possible so that you follow something that provides content regularly, even when my days cannot afford it.
Third, sometimes I feel the urge to not just talk about writing, but some personal, emotional revelations. These will be tagged "nowrite" if you wish to skip over them.
Today, I joined one of my best friends and her family friends on a local Breast Cancer Support walk in honor of her mother. The fact that I can type that without an emotional trigger surprises me. If I dwell on the death of a woman I knew for about a third of my life, related to my closest friend, I get emotional. Today, somehow I could forget that as I walked three miles in a state park, yapping about my new job and receiving advice on my future, passing by bright pink and teal posters and clothing without a second of hesitation, consciously unaware of the “In Memory Of” sign I pinned to my back.
When I wrote her name, I saw no more than a string of letters and a misshapen heart, aesthetically laid out on the purple page. When I talked about her funeral, I could hardly visualize the people, the room, the picture above the casket. When Loren mentioned planting around her mother’s grave, I could only see her deceased daughter’s face, engraved onto a plaque fifteen years before her mother’s burial.
Is that coping? Is that accepting they’re gone? Or is it simply forgetting?
I am afraid of the answer.