Friday, January 11, 2008

What passes for wisdom around here

Im sorry if my blog post sounded very down. I think my mom had it right when she said that on the days when everything is going okay you can manage okay but as soon as something goes wrong you start having a REALLY bad day. Terror is fully recovered, fyi.

I have had much better days than the day I wrote the last post.

Here's the things I know, even when Im bitching about coaches and rude people:

That everyone has sorrow and every sorrow and hate and rudeness that I meet with kindness and grace is one less hurt in the world.

That my son loved me and had absolute faith in me.

That life is not fair or just but I can try to be both.

That I can and will hurt and cry and greieve and I should do that all the way up until the time when it is too much and becomes more about self-indulgence than grief.

That I am someone who needs a job.

That crying as a hobby is pretty inexpensive.

There is no such thing as tear-proof mascara. Really, no such thing.

Contrary to fat-haters opinion everywhere, sometimes you really dont have time to excercise, for instance while taking care of a seriously ill child, and when you DO have time, it's a lot easier.

It's a lot easier to gain weight than lose it. Note I do not say fun because frankly, i hated being pregnant with the passion of 10,000 suns and nothing about it was fun, including the eating.

That some people actually choose to deal with your loss by looking through you and pretending that you are not actually, like, there. Which is a little weird of them and fairly disconcerting.

I will laugh my ass off again. I have. Last night at 3 AM when neither of us could sleep we began watching the cheesiest, worst sci-fi-ish movie ever. Called Nowhere, made in '97 it had a whole lot of now-famous people in it and it was so bad. If you like that sort of thing, I highly recommend it. By the time the lead (James Duval) said "Dear Diary" I was in hysterics, unable to stop laughing.

Sometimes I live with ghosts - the ghosts of what our house used to look like, furniture that doesnt exist anymore and sometimes out of the corner of my eye, Jake's ghost. Not that I really believe in ghosts, but sometimes I see them.

This lurching, painful way that I am making will get better. I have to believe this.