Monday Morning Musings:
Small Things Enjoyed
Joy is slow to come,
it sips from a glass heart,
still fragile, ready to shatter, but a sip is enough
to wet my lips, to quench neurons
in the night, sending if on a new journey
of possibilities, not doubts. I’m dazzled by
dream poems in dream worlds
that bleed away when I wake, remember
you’re not here–
but almost is like small paws leading me,
reminding me that vacuums do not remain
unfilled. That scabs form to protect wounds
so that we heal. Even scars fade with time, the course
of a dried stream bed on a plain. The earth
remembering water, waiting
for a flower to bloom. Again.
Last night was the first time in a long time that I dreamt poems, none of which I remember. But it was a world-building sort of dream, like a Star-Trek episode, with me constructing poetry from everyday circumstances, and my daughter there smiling and doing a bit of eye-rolling. I woke up happy, and then remembered Ricky wasn’t there. I think first thing in the morning is when I miss him the most.
We had Chinese food on Thursday night, and this was my fortune cookie fortune.
The weather has been as crazy as my up and down heart. Last week we had the heat on one day and the a/c on another. Friday was cold and rainy, Saturday was beautiful. Yesterday, we turned the heat back on in the morning to warm the house. Today is supposed to be pleasant and in the 70s. (It’s 42 F right now.) Between the weather and Ricky, I hadn’t been to the park in several days. I discovered there were now lots of new little goslings. I hope—I like to think–some hatched on Thursday when Ricky died.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I had a long talk with older child on Friday, and they sent me “fancy cheese” for Mother’s Day. Husband gave me chocolates (a lot of chocolate!). Younger child and her husband came over with their two dogs so I could have some puppy love and laughter. I asked them how they don’t laugh all the time at their pittie. That crazy face, but still so adorable. For some reason, their dogs go wild for bread. Daughter brought a feast—homemade bread, a selection of cheeses and jams, brownies and cookies, and wine. We did wine pairings with the variety of wines and cheeses. All of us liked the Italian red the most (tannic, but not astringent), and nobody liked the ice wine. It was a very lovely several hours.
I took a few days to just read novels and watch TV. I didn’t want to read or write poetry. I said to my husband that I’d forgotten that grief is so exhausting. It’s been four years since the horrible week in April when our Mickey cat died on Monday and my mom on Saturday, and the world shut down. I have to get back to work now, as I have a work assignment due. Thank you all for your kind comments, texts, and emails. 💙