I am drunk on eight hours of sleep and fresh air and caffeine and Rubber Soul. I’m weirding my coworkers out. Should not operate heavy machinery or text boys. Gonna get a full night’s sleep again tonight and I’m prettyyyyy psyched about it. GOD I love coffee. I love it SO MUCH. I’m a giddy weird charmer today; making up for every other day of being an exhausted numb bitchface. I like everyone and everyone likes me. Except the crazy person who called down to yell about newspapers that got thrown away but what she doesn’t know is that I’m sleep-drunk and caffeine-drunk and I don’t care about this job at alllllll so she can’t touch me. I’m hooked on Whole Foods’ power cookies and I ate Brussels Sprouts for lunch and I might go to the gym after work so healthy so giddy so giggly so pink cheeked did I mention I get to sleep 8 hours AGAIN tonight?! TWO nights IN A ROW and nobody can touch me.
this will certainly be me tomorrow.
sleeping in until 7 AM. WHEN DID THAT BECOME “SLEEPING IN”?!
this can’t be my life.
"every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings.”
she passed away the day after christmas, the day following her favorite holiday. she was christmas: cookies and ornaments, presents and santa claus figurines, angels and doves, the christmas eve party hosted at her and papa’s split level home… for years, the lot of us piled into her blue living room and ate and talked and opened gifts… the abundant love this clear matriarch of the family gave to us year round was brought to the forefront then, as we gathered ‘round together in that magical time and place.
we like to think she waited to have one last christmas with all of us, as we came together once more, trying our best to prepare to say goodbye.
this weekend was spent going through all of my grandmother’s things with the girls of my family. hundreds of pieces of jewelry, dozens of shirts in all colors of the rainbow (but mostly in every single shade of blue, of course, to reflect her favorite color), countless little knickknacks, each dearly loved and perfectly placed just as much as the next, or else wrapped up daintily and put away ever so carefully. she never got rid of anything, but packed it away for someone to have, someday.
yesterday would have been her 75th birthday. so young. we expected to have at least another 10 years with her. but a stroke is swift and cruel, and we had to let her be at peace.
"love does not die, people do. so that when all that is left of me is love, give me away as best you can.”
i love you, grama. thank you for teaching me to spread that love.
i sit and wonder where you’ve gone.
have you found a head to crown,
that stays under when
you push it down?
i sit and ponder what went wrong.
was i too emotional?
too many puzzles
for your simple soul.
does she let you sleep
when she’s awake?
does she close her eyes,
pay the asking price?
does she suffer with a smile?
take a penny for her soul that’s all
heart of loneliness
drinks the honey of your promises
does she know that’s
all the love you got?
- diane birch