Friends. Hello.

The windows don’t rattle in their frames anymore. They were replaced with energy efficient models last November. But our house is an old lady, and she shook as the wind whooshed and hissed through the leafy trees. The harshness of winter wind, branches clacking together without leaves to dampen the noise, is behind us.

When I opened the back door to toss recycling into the bin, a gust bit my nose and the smell of wood smoke was in the air. It wasn’t June in the yard; it was October. I breathed in the chilly air and was filled with hope and excitement and joy.

In that breath I remembered the autumns of childhood. Summer stretched too long and hot. The welcome coolness of fall mixed with the smell of paper, erasers, and the sticky plastic of Trapper Keepers. School new enough to be exciting. The keen anticipation of Halloween, Thanksgiving, my birthday, and then Christmas stretched out in front of me.

Before the memories became weighted down with melancholy, the boys’ futures replaced my past. Hope and excitement and joy stayed with me. C starting kindergarten, T a second grader, planning their costumes for the Zoo Boo, their cousins and grandparents spending Thanksgiving with us, our trip to North Carolina the day after Christmas.

The cold snap will be over tomorrow, June will be back. But tonight it is October.

———————

Friends.

Hello.

How about that weather? Really chilly tonight, right?

Um. Is anyone actually still here?

If so, hi. I’m sorry. I am sorry. Fading away without a so long was rude as hell. I don’t even know what happened. Writers block? I was boring myself and pretty sure I was boring you? Mental illness and motherhood are pretty damn repetitive. The longer I didn’t write, the harder writing seemed? I was too busy living, the good: the boys flourish, I’m a PTO mom, hey, I actually did a marathon! The bad: my crazy…..has not been under control, I was overwhelmed by suicidal thoughts, paralyzed with fear, and that marathon? I accidently got lost (of course I did) and ended up doing an extra mile plus.

Good year. Hard year. How was yours?

Bottom line, I’m sorry if I left you hanging. And hey, I’ve discovered something pretty big this year. Happiness! It isn’t a constant state of being. Yup, I actually thought that. It was why I thought I couldn’t have it. You have probably figured all this out already, I am really slow. Happiness is simply a moment. Sometimes you get lots of moments in a day. Sometimes you don’t. But you don’t have to always be happy to be happy. Crazy people can have it, too! You can have it! I can have it! There is room for it, even during the bleakest days! 2015! The year I was suicidal AND happy! I know, I know, not funny. Totally tasteless. And I promise, I’m doing much better.

Maybe I’ll post in another year if I learn something cool in 2016.

PS. Hey, if you read here and you emailed me this year? I am sorry. I am a grade A dickweed. I was too ashamed to respond, I didn’t have an answer for why I wasn’t posting. I was being a coward. The emails were a kindness that touched me deeply, and they deserved a response. Again, I am sorry.

boys walk

The guys on a walk in early spring. Z made that guitar! And I know, the boys are so big!

c boo boo

“I have a booboo on my face, so I have to do this.”  He did not have a booboo.

t hat

We are trying a hat to keep the hair out of his big kid face.

k z date

Z and I went on a date in February! It was really awesome!

 

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4 thoughts on “Friends. Hello.

  1. Fading away=not rude! It’s your blog, use it as you need to use it. Lovely to read your words again. Glad you are alive and mostly thriving.

  2. You’ve never bored me, not since the beginning and not now. I’ve missed your words

    – and I completely understand fading away.

    I have no time or energy to write my life out, online or anywhere. I couldn’t – and don’t – expect that of anyone else.

    Hearing from you here is lovely, a gift, a privilege. When it works for you, when you have something to say short or long, happy or sad, up or down. But you never owe a single word.

    I’m glad you’re alive, too. Maybe you’ll write or maybe the words will stay still inside – but I’m glad you are living life. I’m sorry suffering continues alongside the happy. Fighting through is…hard.

    Your voice matters. You’ll always have readers if you want to write, people who value you no matter what – even ones you’ve never met.

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