Withered sunflowers
Im bad at being sad or probably at having emotions that slow me down. It feels self indulgent, and almost futile to tarry on something like grief over death. Death happens all the time, its a fact. It a promise. If I had sat down every time someone died, or was killed, that I know...would I ever get up? no. I feel like Im always carrying these 50 lb bags of grief around, but so are many people I know. You just keep walking, and dragging your grief because that's what it is. You don't talk about it all the time, but it seeps out around the edges sometimes. And that is July for me. JULY. My body tells me before the calendar does. To say Ive sucked at life this past week is an understatement. I last saw my mom alive on July 11, 2010. I laid on the side of her hospital bed and she pet my hair. (its a white thing) I loved her hands. She had big pretty knuckles and even the day before she died her long nails were painted red. HOW? im pondering this today. My mom loved sunflow...