I should take this time to write about the time we spent down South for my sweet mother-in-law's funeral. Almost every night I lie awake for a time, just turning the vivid and powerful images and details of those days over and over in my mind, trying to get at each of them from every angle. What I saw, and heard, and felt and connected with in those moments feels on some level, inside of me, like it needs unlocking -- like I need to sit down and work at the experience like a tight, dense knot, gradually pulling loose a thread, looking for its beginning and its end, loosening this, following that, until I've unraveled every bit, smoothed it out and lined it up neatly again. I talked about it all with Al, with my Mom, with friends, and yet somehow what I believe lies at the heart of it all -- some deep, rich, amazing wisdom, growth, some vastly important understanding -- continues to elude me.
Do y'all get that? Have you ever experienced anything that went by in a blur but was so blindingly meaningful to you that when it was over you immediately carried within you a change undefinable, so that you felt compelled, driven even, to sort out all the complexities and scrutinize them until you understand WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE?
That's where I am these days. Inside my own head. On a bit of a mental and emotional island.
Wow. That sounds so overwrought, doesn't it?
Anyway but I won't write about it yet. Can't. Don't have even the first thread pulled loose enough to show you.
But I'm definitely pining to write again and reconnect and be, I don't know, a "blogger?" At least a writer. Again. A part of the community again. A sharer of myself. A part of life. I suppose I'm afraid maybe I'm not who I used to be anymore. I'm not sure if I'm still meant to be funny. I'm not sure if I'm capable. I'm not sure if I even deserve the luxury.
Oh, but this really IS a beautiful moment. A beautiful, light moment with you -- maybe a moment away from the island, or maybe just a moment when I can see my way, in the distance, off the island.
OHMYGRANNY. Now that really does sound overwrought.
But the sheets are clean.