Let’s touch base

It may feel as though in some ways I’ve changed the tone and feeling of this blog. Not as.... connecting, maybe, as the previous and in many ways I have.

I don’t want this blog to be that blog. I very much want this blog to be present. 

I want to focus on now. I bared much of my soul in the final months of the last blog and I don’t want to rehash or linger around sadness and pain.

Life is good right now. I’m happy. I love where I live. I love having just three of us in our home. I’m loving having grown children with families of their own. I love grandchildren which is a shocking turn of events! I am not a small child type person, with the exception of my own. I’ve never liked being around children. Thank God my house has always been the house to have the kids hanging out and sleepovers and running in and out the doors......... ( how did that even happen?) and so I thought... probably not gonna love being a Gi-Gi( don’t you call me grandma) I’m probably going to pat their dirty little heads, say “ aren’t you just the boyest boy ever?” And “ my how you’ve become such a girl with... hair” and meander by.

But guess what? I love them until my heart hurts. I want to hug them until their heads pop off. I love their voices, the magic in their eyes when they see the Christmas tree, the tiny way the girl one sings Let it Go as though she’s feeling every word from the deepest warmest parts of her tiny little heart.

I love the littlest boy one when he recognizes me on FaceTime and I’m teaching him how to blow raspberries ( No! Not motorboating!)  and he tries his hardest to do it back. How he grabs the phone to kiss his flat gi-gi in the talking box thing and then maybe try and chew on her too.

I can’t stop buying them things. Like, seriously, I can’t stop. I need a meeting. 

It’s fantastic and brings me more joy than I thought possible. In fact, it’s been in the last few years or so that I’ve wondered if I’ve ever truly felt joy. Joy! 

When my new psychiatrist asked me the question about feeling joy I told her, honestly, I think I’ve faked joy. I know what it’s suppose to look like. I know what things or events should spur on joy and so I act out joy. But later when the girl one said “ Gigi, look, Christmas is pretty” and she silently ran her finger down a tree decoration and leaned in to kiss the tree my heart ached with joy. 

I’m not forgetting. I’m not leaving. In fact I had a dream about bears recently and in the dream I asked “ how can life be if I never see or hear a bear again?”

I won’t entertain the thought.

It is however, good here. In this day. 

I’m healing. Getting the catheter out on Wednesday. Crossing fingers that that works out well and I’m human again! 

I’ll answer some emails this week and talk about the fact that I died during my operation. I’ve been processing that. You know me, analyzing the shit out of everything!

Night

Me