I was thinking I might cut the grass today--mainly to "process" some of the leaves that have been coming down from the ash tree--but nahh. I'll avoid the mower for a few more days yet. Let the leaves fall.
It's funny how something traumatic, like busting your foot, can revisit you emotionally on the anniversaries. I guess it has something to do with the way the atmosphere can be similar to when the traumatic event happened--the slant of the sun, the clarity of the sky, the increasing dryness of things.
A lot comes to mind in mid-October, memories. Memories of concert seasons beginning, and the thrill of performance; playing my trumpet. Oh there are a lot of little anniversaries in October; people I've met; lying together in the sun; chewing persimmons and spitting out seeds. Leaves like stained glass. Timeless times.
Someone suggested yesterday that I write in my blog about my dead friend Pam, but somehow this strangely public-private place isn't right, and my words just aren't strong enough, or good enough.
She was the writer, the poet.
But I will say that October was her favorite time of year, and it's always been my favorite, too.
There is that.
I had thought that I would be able to write a memorial post in honor of my friend Laura after she died. But that's not happened yet. In my head I can do it, but I cannot due in with my fingers on the keyboard.
ReplyDeleteOctober is my favorite time of year as well. Yesterday the air had that special something that it gets, and I was just energized and happy. I haven't been able to come up with any words for Pam either, and haven't been able to go to Taj Mahal for lunch, either. I found some words from Judy Grahn for the memorial. If I can read them without losing it, that is.
ReplyDeleteYeah, Shelda, I am so busted for things to say at the "celebration of life" for Pam. In fact, I'd forgotten there's a time set aside for folks to TALK, but you just reminded me. I am still stuck on the written parts. Maybe it's because Pam was so good with words that words so fail me now. It seems I can only think in terms of objects--colorful leaves, a stone with a hole through it, that kind of thing.
ReplyDeleteThank you, HR, for your moral support. I'm not sure it's necessarily an inadequacy if the fingers don't want to tap out our grief. I actually think the Internet is too public or common a place for things that really matter. I feel rather strange being even this open about my feelings.
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