I feel scattered mostly these days... and this blog post should be indicative of that.
The other morning I counted the days. Wolfie would have been about 5 and a half months now. Mostly I don't count the days. It hurts more to know the milestones I'm missing.
Sometimes between last I wrote and now I found how to dress better for my new size. But I also found that tucking my new drooping belly flap into a sweet new pair of jeans is just a temporary way of distracting me from the truth. I eventually take those off and get into the bath, the combination of seeing my buoyant stomach fat and the feeling of the warm swirling water reminds me of the water birth.
So on this other morning, after counting the days and having a somber bath, I decided to sit in the nursing glider and open the drawers of the baby's dresser one by one and look at some of his things. I hadn't really sat there except to tie my shoes since everything happened. Mostly it felt sweet and nostalgic like looking at old family videos even though some of those family members have gone on to heaven... but then it all changed when I got to the bottom drawer.
In the bottom drawer are the socks, shoes, and other small accessories. Buried under a few pairs of socks and caps was a pair of shoes that Ben and I had purchased together. They were this faux-leather stuff. Childish primary colors... but they had a little soccer ball design on the velcro flap that held them closed. I remembered that Ben and I had bought them together. We bought them with an unrelated little outfit at this church rummage sale and they were the first things we had bought for our boy together.
You see, I mostly lose it thinking about how happy and untainted, unstained by sadness our little world was then. The little soccer ball shoes had glistened with our joyous anticipation...now they sit quietly in a little drawer.
I've also been occupied with the thought of death lately. It truly is a terrible curse to be aware of your own mortality. It makes me feel frantic... like a game show player in a mad dash to grab all the cool stuff before the buzzer goes off. But at the same time I haven't much zest to enjoy many of the "finer" things this world has to offer.
I busy myself with video games, crafty work, managing our little house, spending time with good friends, watching movies, and trying to make plans to do the things I think I should be doing.
I've had this deep-seeded need lately. I want to walk. I mean... really walk. I want to walk so far, stop to eat a few times along the way, stop to sleep, wake up, and then keep walking some more. I don't want to run. I don't want to do anything that requires a ton of fancy equipment. And I don't want to just hike up Stone Mountain or Kennesaw mound some afternoon... I mean... I want to WALK... like across an entire state at least. I want to put one foot in front of the other for hours and days on end. I don't want a deadline. I don't want to feel rushed or hurried. I just want to walk and enjoy the walk... but for a really long time. Like a slow-moving endurance trial. I don't know what it is, but this need to walk and walk is in me. I discussed it with a friend today and I think it's going to happen sometime in the near future. Of course we're going to prepare our bodies and minds for such an undertaking.... but I don't think there's too much we really need besides working feet and legs...and a desire to keep going. It's something to look forward to. It's something new. It's dangerous... a little exciting... a little daunting... but it's something I gotta do. I just have to. Otherwise, I'll never know why I'm being drawn to it so randomly.