Trip to the 7/11

I went to the 7/11 to get smokes. Picky, my vociferous Schnauzer, was barking uncontrollably as usual in the car. I told the "Simpsons 7/11 Indian guy" behind the counter " Oh, that's my dog's making that noise. " He said in his "Simpsons 7/11 Indian guy voice" "Oh, how many in your family, you, and your dogs and ?"

I replied "That's it. My husband died. It's just me and my two dogs."

He asked "Oh, when did your husband die?"

"Two years ago." I replied.

He said "Oh, like me…two dogs and just me and nobody else."

Yep, that's it.

There It Was

Blood blood there it was
A reminder to what had been
Blood blood there it was
When I pulled back the veil of uncertainty

A glimpse into the past
The past that still seemed the present
I am still cognizant of angel's wings flying
Still aware of the power that was unleashed when the end was there

Blood blood there it still is
A reminder to what had been
It is and it was and it will ever be.

The Warbler

I laid in bed all day today
The weather gloomy and dark
But as the sun came through
I arose and looked out the window

I saw a warbler, unidentified, transient
It's feathers black and velvety
A flash of shimmering gold shone from beneath its wings
Such a wonderful sight to see
I watched at my feeder for it for a time
But it was elusive

It almost made me appreciate life for a moment
It was almost inspiration to stay out of bed
Until it slipped away into the foliage once again
I may never see it again
And I realized how alone I was in the spectacle of its presence

Headache

I need to go back to sleep
Wake up
And start my life over again

As it should be

Things are back in order.
My head is screwed back on tight.
The universe is right.

Everything make sense again.
I can deal with it.
I will die, but I will live while I am here.

And you aren't even aware of what you did.

Straight Lines

I try to mow a straight line.
Every blade of grass I see you in front of me.
Up, down, up, down.
Straight lines.
The house looms largely on the horizon.

It is taking minutes, seconds, hours.
A minuscule amount of time in my life, in eternity, in the universe, in infinity
To make this lawn look good for you.

Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

Fire in the Kitchen

"There's a fire in the kitchen!" I said softly and dully to my brother and sister while staring eerily up the stairs.

They looked up the stairs towards the kitchen which was beyond view of where we were and looked back at the TV. "You're crazy." I think my brother muttered, perturbed that he had been interrupted by this unsubstantiated claim.

A few minutes later, my mother got up from her comfortable 5 o'clock chair position in the living room where she and dad read the newspaper while sipping on their Manhattans every night. Into the kitchen she went to check on dinner. "Dad! Fire!" We all heard her cry of distress.

Dad got up from his comfortable 5 o'clock position, went into the kitchen, grabbed the cast iron skillet that was aflame, and threw it out the front door, burning his hand with the hot grease.

All of our hearts pounded.

Scandinavian Mid-Century Modern

It catches your eye

A design you haven’t seen before

Unique, seductive, wry

You desire it

To add to your collection

It gives you a lift

You share it with friends

Admire and cherish it

Display it proudly

You caress it ever so gently

With admiration

You clean it, make it shine

It makes you smile

But as time passes

It starts to lose its appeal

The glimmer you once saw in it loses its luster

You place it on your shelf

With the rest of your collection

It becomes dusty, and unadmired

It sits among other pieces

Once loved and cherished

Still owned but neglected

You take it down once in a while

Gaze at it, dust it off

Reminded of its beauty

But you wonder what you saw in it to begin with

You never promised to keep it

It’s not as great as you once thought

You consider getting rid of it

You search for a replacement

Something new you haven’t seen before

Returning Home

The first thing I did when I arrived home was take down the picture of Mrs. Winchester in my kitchen. Odd, I had not even brought all my bags in from the car yet and I felt the need to do that. I considered hanging my new $2.00 thrift shop find painting there, and tried it for a time, but I missed my clock too much and there wasn’t room for both. Perhaps I was feeling the need for some change. I’ve become a different person yet again…different from that person a year ago who hung that painting. I have yet to figure out who I am, though. I am going through an enormous transformation in my life, one where inner retrospection sounds hollowly within my soul.

This morning when I walked around the house, I felt a disconnect, as if some magical period of time had passed since I had been home and I could see things from a different perspective. There were rotten oranges in my bowl in the dining room, not even sure how long they have been there. Sewing projects strewn about, I can’t even remember what I was working on. Two unfinished drapes lay on the table, reminding me that we haven’t even had the opportunity to hang the finished ones yet. Where did the time go?

I walked outside, hoping to feel a bit of spring, but the wind howled discouragingly, keeping my motivation at bay. I took my chair cushions out of the plastic bags to let them air out in the breeze. I assessed the garden situation, and saw some crocuses and blue-eyed grass. I cared but I did not. Another season, another renewal, another spring. A chance for things to come alive again, I had been here before. The feeling of newness, a time to regroup, restart, look forward to a new year. But a shadow hangs over me now that I can’t quite shake off.

Daffodil

"I picked some daffodils for you," I said aloud, as I looked into the woods to gaze at the single bloom that unfurled among the winter leaves.

"Thank you, baby," I heard the words whisper by in the breeze.

The Absent BF

I think I will have to get used to the fact that having a BF is pretty much like having no BF, and is akin to having a dead husband.

So, I will sew a slipcover to pass the time!

Wine

Life would be so much easier right now if I could only have a glass of wine.

Expressions

I cannot speak
You cannot hear
My words are stifled
From your inability to listen

My expressions are confined
to within my own mind
All I can eke out is
We..will...never...make...it.

THE Words

I called Harbaughs about the radiators. He answered. Ray Harbaugh, the handsome looking guy who came to our house when we first moved here to service our radiators. He was recently widowed. His wife was a graphic designer, too, and she died of cancer.

I thought about him after Barrett died. I think I even looked for his wife's grave at the cemetery. I knew now how it was for him.

"Oh, I remember you guys." he said on the phone. "You're husband's name is Barrett, right?" Oh boy. I froze for a nanosecond. Here comes the words out loud. When I have to say it out loud it gives me a jolt, like I'm shocked all over again that it's really true.

"Well, he passed away." I replied. "It's been a year and a half already. I've been going crazy in this house all by myself."

"I'm sorry to hear that, " Ray said, and I knew he really meant it. He'll be coming up this afternoon to look at the radiators again. I'll be looking at him with a new perspective this time.

Now and Then

I was a cherished, loved wife to somebody. I have been demoted to a service slut.

Clam

I have emerged from my grief a mollusk.

Solitude

Words escape me, my thoughts are elusive.
I am smothered in my winter isolation.
The landscape stretches out before me barren and withered.
Approaching the winter's solstice,
I long for your warmth
Yet it is intangible.
My loneliness enshrouds me.