The very first thing I need to say is that I’m so proud of my niece and nephew. Their father – Husband’s twin – is in the ICU in Pittsburgh. It’s possible he may pass away; if he lives there will be a long recovery ahead. This past week, those two have faced insane choices and weighed courses of actions with uncertain outcomes – not a single thing has been easy. They are doing an amazing job handling all that they are going through and I wish I could hug them long enough and hard enough to ease their worry and stress. (R – if you’re reading this, I love you so much!)
And while news of this sadness was arriving, I was online celebrating my amazing week of publications. Thanks once again to Robert Vaughan, Meg Tuite, David O’Connor, and everyone at Bending Genres for publishing We’re Toast. Thank you Cal Marcius at Spelk for publishing The Difference Between Us. On Saturday, I Am Promilla, came out, so many thanks to everyone at Postcard Poems & Prose – especially Elizabeth Stark for her amazing “Promilla.”
The disconnect – online and RL – is surreal sometimes. Ben went to the dealer on 30 July and within a week he wouldn’t start – of course. He needed some repairs done, but since he won’t leave the driveway, I, too, am stuck here. Husband had been planning on taking Friday off to celebrate his birthday, but now he’s thinking of going to work. Because he’s the type of person he is, it wouldn’t surprise me if he figures out Ben’s problem, fixes it, the house gets painted and the crash bar on the front door is installed this weekend. Work is how he processes his feelings, writing is mine, but it’s all too sad right now. Things happened so fast…
And now, the waiting is so long. Yesterday, I walked out to the creek and as I neared the edge, a fledgling heron flew up and away from the spot where it had been feeding. Today, it’s a muggy 80+ degrees outside and the labyrinth is too muddy to walk so I’ll be inside, filing, maybe editing, thinking rando thoughts on the essence of being and hating myself for not saying I love you enough.
Sorry for the not so cheery read, but those are the creekside reflections for this week. And a hearty RIP to Bookman who I learned passed away last Thursday. Thanks universe for all the material, but I don’t really want it.
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