SOMETHING I MISS

I don't miss things or people much. But occasionally I'm filled with longing for a particular person or situation. Since Sue died at Christmas 2000, I haven't had a friend whose door I could go through without knocking. I haven't been able to take off my shoes in someone else's house, take a nap on the couch, pick up something on the cabinet to eat. I miss that.

I know it is something that I won't have again. It can't be planned, it just has to happen. I don't have time for it to happen again.

But I had it once and it was good.

TIMELINE

By the time I have supper cooked I don't want to eat. Sometimes I leave the dishes on the counter all night. By 7 I'm beginning to be tired. By 8 I am tired. By 9 I can hardly move. By 10 I'm dead. But not sleeping. By 9 I'm beginning to find it hard to be agreeable. By 10 I'm downright belligerent. By 11 I feel like crying. By morning I can do it all again.

PRODIGAL TEETH

Mama's prodigal teeth showed up just inches from where I spent the most time looking. I had taken her bed apart, looked behind the books, just everywhere, or so I thought. When they did show up, they were peeking out from under a pillow just inches from her bed, but over toward my bed. And no, I hadn't been using them!! Now she wants to put them in a glass of water instead of under her pillow. That is, if she takes them out, which she usually doesn't.

Now there are kittens between our beds. They are in a clothes basket, Abby seems happy for them to be there. They are so cute.

Poor Mama, spending her declining days in a house full of cats. She can hardly stand them. I just don't understand it, I love my cats and would be lost without them. She doesn't want them to even look at her. She is missing so much. The cats keep me company, keep my feet warm, tell me things, love me unconditionally (well, usually), and just make me happy. I have made my children promise that I will always have a cat when I am very old. Although, I have no intention of becoming very old. No intention at all.

MOTHER'S DAY

I don't much like Mother's Day. I know I should. Several years ago I was sad on Mother's Day and shed tears in front of some people. I haven't liked it since.

RAIN

The rain has given our grass a growth spurt. It's waving in the breeze and curling up the sides of the house. I can't see the rock that marks the cat's grave, that's the rock that is not mower friendly. But it is a nice shade of green.

I've scraped some of the dead leaves out of the herb and flower beds. All the mess is hiding in the tall grass. I just hope I have all the little rocks where the mower won't terrorize them later.

Everything seems better when I'm with the herbs. They are quiet and grow while I'm not looking.

I have to venture out soon, get the mail, go to the drug store, get cards for Mama to send.

Then writing.