It was one year ago today, that I last heard your voice. It was a Sunday morning, and I laid in my bed and called to wish you a happy birthday. You were kind of confused and told me about who was coming over and if I knew what their plans were. It was a weird conversation, and left me a little shaken, so much so that I called my parents and asked them if I should come home. I told PZ the same, the following Wednesday when I interviewed with her in Cincinnati. It was to be the last phone call I would ever have with you. And the last time I heard you say the familiar words we ended every call with. I can still hear your voice now as one year ago you said them last..."I love you, Natalie."
The last time I would ever hear your voice. I would ever hear you tell me you loved me. But not the last that I would say the same to you.
God how I miss you.
Happy birthday, Grandma.
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the budand the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
I used to find this blog therapeutic and as an outlet for the screaming voice inside my head. I would write effortlessly, sometimes without fail, and definitely without hesitation. It seems right now it is a struggle to any of those things and that I am completely at a loss for what to say.
I think about what I would write, here, at times when most inconvenient, like sitting on board an airplane without my PC, or in the glimpse of a magazine advertisement about the place I just moved from. I think of crafting words neatly together--how they could fill the page of an otherwise diminishing blog. Words that articulate the way the wind feels on my face, while sitting on top of a hill in a cemetery in West Virginia (ewww) how I wish I could describe to you exactly what that moment was like. How I wish that all the moments I have had you could understand or sit here with me to enjoy. I think of how I would tell you the stories along the way, writing them down here like I once did...but can't seem to do anymore.
I keep thinking about what exactly it is that I would say. What I'd tell you. I just don't seem to be able to tell you anymore.
The words are hard to form now. The sentences more laborious than ever. Ironically, my inspiration at an all time high, the "ups" perhaps even higher. Yet life derails me daily, I cry a lot, too. But I seem to have found myself a little further down this mysterious ride - and I welcome the open road it has me on. I'm too busy to dwell on the words and the paragraphs and the implied accusations or meanings that leave you guessing how relevant they really are - or whom they are relevant for. I am also resentful. I want to allow you into my world, but I wish for once I had an outlet to look back into yours. The one-sidedness of this blog thing has grown tiresome for me. I do not need it now like I once did. I once needed to exhault to you who I am, without reciprocity. Today, I wish you had allowed me to know you better. Not all of you. But some, some who read daily. I need to know the conversation flows both ways. It's pretty easy, really, I'm tired of giving and getting nothing in return.
I've never been a gardener. I don't know how to make things grow, or how to keep beautiful flowers in bloom. I'm lucky if I can just get them to survive. This blog is a garden, and it's bounty has withered. I can't nurture this blog the way it needs to be nurtured, or cultivate it's content. I feel like the more I come to terms with who I am, or what I am, the less I can say, here, which wasn't the case before. My own sense of self-censorship I suppose. My own inability to give as freely of myself as I once did. My own cynicism, my own guardedness, my own pain, my own mistakes, my own heart. It is all censored now. Mostly, because I am still so far from where I need to be.
So I'm not sure how much more I can do this. Even though my desire for a creative outlet remains strong, I'm not sure how much more I can say about myself or how much I can put myself out there, or how much longer you and I can continue the one way conversation. Maybe it's time for me to move on. To try something new. I don't know. I need a break, I need to un-chain myself from the only form of commitment I have been able to keep for the last two and a half years. I may be back. I may not be. I might walk away only to find I need this more than I know. But right now, I don't know.
I meant to tell you I was leaving but I went out with her and spent the next day trying to figure out why Jager shots are ever considered a good idea. Especially by me.
I've been to Gulfport to see little Ms. Momma Vee. She is enduring massive swelling of the ankles and feet and might explode if that little man doesn't come out to play soon. My prediction is he will come 2 weeks early. So, now that it's Friday, I'm guessing he'll be here on or around the 25th of October. I have impeccable hunches, you know.
Had the big presentation. Went well. Just pray that my position goes worldwide. I sure could use another trip and beaucoup de frequent flier miles.
I've also been to Dallas, again. Sales meetings are always great times to close the bar down with a couple of your favorite colleagues. Yes Dolly, you are right. There is a story there. What can I say. It's always the ones you least expect to find your irresistable mojo, well. Irresistable.
I'm super tired but looking forward to a full weekend including the birthday party of my sweet Daniel - hard to believe this little guy is TWO! He's pretty freaking amazing. Pretty soon the number of children of my friends and SISTER! are going to significantly surpass the available counterspace in the Hotel Apartment.
While on my continued hiatus, back soon I promise, please laugh with me at what I can only imagine might actually be me and perhaps one of my partners in crime in about 20 years. This is a real photo taken by a dude I work with while he was on vacation. I mean, it just doesn't get any better than this.
I can totally hear it now.
"I don't know Vee. What the hell she was thinking. I would sooo never wear an outfit like that. I mean, white shoes after labor day? Bitches please. Give me the flask, I need a refill."
