"Everyone loves a particular version of you and when that person is gone that version goes with them." Here One Moment, Liane Moriarty ~ it's about everybody's death on a plane, which I bought for my flight reading of course.
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| I will never see my dad light up when I walk into a room again (occasionally with murderous mojo, but still). And now she looks at me only like this, the whole time she was here and there. She lights up for my niece, and oddly (*awkward*) my ex - we don't even talk currently 🤷🏽♀️ - and otherwise she acts like I am pestering her to stay alive. She's been to the hospital, doctor, tests, all that since I saw her last and she's "fine", except for choosing to begin her dying process and not wanting to be interrupted. Whenever her eyes land on me, they slump "oh it's just you" - she would not even hug me goodbye 💔 - and it's *not about me*, I know that, I just can't shake the urge(ncy) to fix it somehow. And it hurts. |
I show the pic to my kids so they understand the reality, talk it around with them, look for more / other to do for her (for all of us) but there isn't, far as we any of us can see.
it's been some kind of mortal wound to not be Professora anymore, but like every wound it pales. a fresher one takes its place.
and weirdly, I still love it. Life, I mean.
I love teaching so much I tried to avatar it lol (nooope).
but that's just one thing.
I love my heartbeat thundering slow and steady, body floating, sky speckled through lashes. if only I could make my heartbeat LOUDER, so much louder, I could steady Everything. but I can't.
I love life and fail at it.
I summon my beat, the sky, the float, the Alive. my mom gave me Life, I tell my kids - if ever I am so sad that I forget, DO NOT FORGET YOU, how fucking miraculous, how every thing should sparkle when you give it your attention, sun on water dancing. Don't ever forget you even if I do 🙏
