Sunday, September 20, 2009

Just Fine

It's been a week. Monday, we...ummm, ate some dinner or something.

Tuesday, Clint worked, and my Aunt Karla, here from San Diego, declared that she and Mom had leftovers aplenty, and told me to "do my own thing." I vaguely remember cheering, and then ending up wondering just what in the hell "my own thing" is.

Wednesday and Thursday some things must have happened. I know I saw people. I think I might have cooked. Or did we order out?

Friday, Clint worked, and Diane, Aunt Karla, Mom and I met at the Esquire for pizzas. Delightful. Newsflash, however: Mom does NOT belong in a bar-ish environment, no matter how informal. Duly noted.

Saturday: Farmer's market and ethnic groceries, and I'm serving pork verde and green rice at home, and there's a campfire hoopla that lasts until 12:30 a.m. We hoot and holler and laugh until we cry...

...and at the end of the night, Tim suddenly says to me, "It's been 2 weeks, and it's not any easier."

And I can only agree. "I know."

We have bucked up, and heartache came crashing down at the end of the week.

When we will stop counting, I do not know.

I only know that I am doing fine.

Just fine.



until it occurs to me that my sister is gone...

and there is a fucking anvil that lands on my chest...

...and weighs me down, from my collar bone to my thighs...

...and I'm not sure, if I will ever breath again.

But, darlings,

I'm fine.


  1. I am very sorry to say that you will never stop counting. I am two weeks and four days from it being 11 years since Dad was my living breathing bestest friend. As October 9th approaches I feel your pain even more deeply. I can tell you that you will reach a stage that the memories are happy and good and no longer overwhelmingly sad.

  2. That fucking huge hole. How I loathe that hole. My heart goes out to you.

  3. Lori,
    I know this is going to sound cruel and heartless but I do not mean it that way. The fact is that the pain and heartache never, ever, goes away. But, believe it or not, you will learn to live with it. Not today. Not tomorrow. But eventually. Don't rush it. Like all wounds, it takes time to heal. Obviously that's just a plain and simple fact.

    For what it's worth, I send my love to you and yours.

    Luv ya,

  4. I know, I know....It's been 7 months now and.....I know.

    As always, my heart is with you.

  5. Anonymous9:05 AM

    I am just so sorry that you are going through this.....the tears welled up in my eyes reading this because I can't imagine not being able to pick up the phone and share some crazy story that only my sister would get.

    Take care, grief is a journey and I'm sending my prayers your way!

    Love - Angela Reinhart

  6. I don't know what I want to say except that your words touch me (as they always do)...and I feel a bit of your pain. I know you are - and will be - fine. And I also know that you will never be the same.

  7. Praying for you hon.
    So much love...

  8. We got word today that dad is not doing well. Your posts have become even more important to me than they already were. I see my future in your words and they make me stronger. Thank you, my friend.

  9. I think about you every day, hoping you're feeling some of the thoughts of peace and strength I'm sending your way.
    Love the picture. :-)


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