The last couple of weeks I’ve felt like it’s time to write again.
The last couple of months have been hard, some of the hardest months I’ve known, and I just didn’t feel like I could write.
I wish I could have. Maybe it would have been helpful. But sometimes, when I’m so in the thick of what is going on, it feels nearly impossible to write out the words. The thoughts. The situations and circumstances.
As if putting the words out there makes the things real, and that maybe if I don’t write it, the last 12.5 weeks didn’t actually happen.
But they did.
12.5 weeks ago my brother-in-law was killed in a car accident. Josh’s older brother. Josh’s only brother. He was 41.
The tears are starting.
Anyway. That’s the reason for my absence these last several weeks, but I feel like it’s time to start writing again.
It won’t all be sad, that’s not my style. I have to mix my crazy life happenings in with the grief or it will swallow me up. Just yesterday I posted something to FB about going outside and spending time with my beasts, and a friend sent a text saying she had read it as “spending time with my breasts.” So, see. I can’t just be sad when a friend writes me stuff like that, and that she was ready to read about it.
Thanks for sticking around. I’ll try (again) to do better about getting some words out.