Chitchat and the occasional in-depth analysis about fiber, knitting, spinning, crochet, cooking, feminism, self-image, and a modicum of personal blathering.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
My world seems so small lately. Life is going by on the outside, while I stand still trying to grab at little pieces as they fly past. I'm not fast enough.
The dreams continue. I wake up with a glimmer of hope that quickly fades. I see small black cars or dark-haired young women on bicycles and I hope for a moment that it's her, that's she's going to come up to me and give me a hug and everything will once again be ok. I feel foolish. But from time to time I daydream that my daughter is back in my life and we're laughing together or having lunch or she's asking me for advice, something she never did much of anyway. Then I snap back into reality.
It's bittersweet because having my younger daughter living here with us is very much a good thing. We enjoy her company and she is a motivating force on me. But I miss her sister so very, very much.
Recently, a friend from work, a young woman, lost her husband. I don't know the circumstances, just that one day he was alive, and the next day he was dead. I can't imagine what that must feel like, but it fills my heart with sadness and with longing for those I love and for one I fear I have lost forever. Any moment, things could change. You could go on a wonderful vacation for your anniversary, and be a widow the next week. How are such things possible? You must treasure what you have every moment because it could end, any moment.
So I keep hoping, because it's all I know how to do. I've always hoped, even when all logic defied it. I've almost always been disappointed in the result, but that doesn't change my nature. I will keep noticing slight dark haired women on bicycles and shadowy profiles in small black cars and I will keep dissolving into daydream, because for now, that's all I've got.