Compartments

My mother died on March 31st. It seems like so long ago and yet, in an instant, I am choked up with emotion at the thought of her and the experience of her dying. I miss her very much. She was so fun and full of life and now she's gone. We all were devoted to her. She was an excellent mother in many respects, for adult children, anyway. Losing parents is so complex. This all sounds so trite. I need time to grieve and have no time to myself.

Fantasy

Once I was told that white women have a fantasy of being "discovered," something like a fairy tale. I never thought of that as being the domain of ww, though it is childish. Thinking about it, I can imagine the myriad of things I would like to be delivered from, but to where would the escape bring me? I really don't know.

First Day of Night School

As usual, during the wee hours I try to be productive but am easily distracted. I read Dave's blog and was surprised and humbled. It calmed me. I was brought easily to some ideas that I know to be true: you cannot control this crazy world nor the people in it; and, our illusions about ourselves can be the source of our distress.

Well, that and this cup of tea.

Maybe the blog can substitute for the writing I thought I should be doing. (You have to know me to make sense of that.) Since no one will be reading this, I'm safe.