There Has To Be A Morning After

It's Monday at 930. I've already been up, out and back home again. Leiney and I renewed her tabs. It was the easiest transaction at a DOL licensing office in memory. At my age, saying "in memory" is dangerous, because it is entirely possible an incident that should be in memory, is more likely laying on the ground somewhere you can't remember. I paid her 1000 of 520 fines on Friday, and her tabs today. Soon we transfer ownership and sell the car.

I used to get hired. I would apply, show up, and get the job. NSM today. 5 jobs I qualify for on paper, places that flew me out, put me up, fed me and spent time with me have all rejected me in the last 24 months. I'm not embarrassed. My CV is impressive. I am good at what I do. But between being super gray, and interviewing as if I were a 5th grader participating in law school moot court. 

I'm 59. What do I have? My girls. My sisters. My dog. That is a good world, maybe something I can make into a perfect world if we work together. I am alone. I am still broken, but healing--about as quickly as a 🐢 turtle dipped in super glue escaping his cage--I swear.

I am not sad (at least that is a positive),  and am not seeking approval (nor oppobrium). I just don't know what I am supposed to do, or how to do those expected things.

When I say I am broken, this isn't a passive aggressive way of blaming the departed, at least not Jenny. But, let's talk about sibling trauma for another day.

I took Willow down to the beach yesterday, to walk the trails. It was windy, which is suboptimal for a dog afraid of wind (another long story), and raining, which she loves probably more than she hates a bath. The wind's rustling, the leaves skittering across concrete and the damp fall air made me reminiscent of the holidays with a family. Traveling paths I walked with Jenny or Abby doesn't bring the ennui one might expect. It had a happy familiarity built on warm memories.

Willow and I will travel next Saturday, other things being equal, to walk somewhere fun, rain or shine. She has a lovely rain kit, and I have more coats of paint than a hundred year old classroom.

The kids are thriving. Thriving. Leiney and Jared are sailing ever week, ahead of their planned sail around the world in 5 years. Closer to now, they go to Taiwan in a couple weeks for a month, where they plan to hike a lot. Note to self, Taiwan does not sound like an, "I can't wait to go lay by the pool and do nothing" kinda place. They are, predictably and thankfully, blissed out on one another.

Abby, just wrapped up 7 days in the city with her program, seeing plays on and off Broadway, and meeting and learning from theater folks, soup to nuts. She calls most every day, happy beyond imagination. Classes are six days a week and it is intensive. 

I broke up with my new therapist. My fault, really, although I like to think she helped me find parts of myself I didn't know, like the locked and zippered pocket containing my calendar. I missed several appts. My fault. No defense. She was skilled. But the roots weren't touched, because I hadn't built that trust level yet. IATA.

Last night, while reading articles from psychological journal as one does, I came across a subject I hadnt seriously contemplated--subling abuse in the form of torture. I think the definition is overbroad, but let's give it first so we are operating on the same plane, the same level.  .  . I got pulled away by another matter. Next time, maybe. . .