Good morning. We got rain yesterday evening, starting around four in the afternoon. The winds came rushing in and we lost power. We needed the rain desperately. So I am very grateful the storm popped up. Here is to a week of cooler temperatures in Mass and hopefully the rain pours. How is the weather by you?
I left a bit of blue in the photographed sky, as a hopeful promise. To escape the blackened feeling of Covid, drought, and people’s unrest, keep peace in your heart this week. Love your neighbor and look up!
Steff: Andie, you’re a bitch. (From “Pretty in Pink”)Bitchin’
and only now,
after all this time
how the other half of the world
Do I remember what it was like at the peak of my depression? Or my inability to leave the house ravished by anxiety? Barely. How fitting to turn half a century (March) and be over the suicide ideation battle. I think i won. I think.
Nobody ever promises a rose garden. But i do remember to smell the blossoms while bloomed. Grateful for my loving children…
Dogwood have no fragrance and adequately make up for the loss with an exuberant blanket of petals, stitched together to create a covering for hearts, souls and minds. Enjoy your bitchin’ Mother’s Day, the best way you can!!
Oh! to find relaxation. Get lost amidst the Monhegan sea air.
I once honored the rapt attention of the island’s evening. Witnessed the homeward gulls, floating above. Shhhh! i warned them. I desired the whispered stories unfolding below the ocean waves.
I witnessed their goodbyes descend upon my eyes. Their limelight emitted farewell and invited the lesser stars to partake in the feast. Satisfied, i bid farewell, in hopes my soul would once again return.
I would love to know what squirrels think, when they see a person walk by, who suddenly stops when they hear their chatter above; stop, dig, reach in, snap, stare and stare and stare. Move along… For any length of time, no doubt, that squirrel is surveying an escape route. But you must question why the squirrel said anything to begin with, if he did not want company?
I never could have imagined sitting here nine years ago. I could barely talk. Was I saying any thing? Perhaps in my eyes you would have seen the pain. I welcomed death. I contemplated suicide.
After a year of therapy, my confidante encouraged me to reach out. I wrote everything in prose, and poetry to him, and so I thought, why not gather my thoughts and start a blog. It is anonymous after all. (Hahaha. That was not quite his idea of reaching out.)
Hahaha…this! (I may have posted elsewhere, a picture of myself?)
Regardless, I have changed from those once fateful days. I graduate with highest honors, a 3.96 gpa. I walk on December 16 and will be with my husband, two of my children, and countless bloggers who have seen me through. Whether you know it or not, you do now. I will be thinking of you. And my therapist. Forever grateful! 🤗❤️
I hope to continue my blog. I have become fascinated with the arts. I have traveled alone. Taken two poetry workshops with incredible poets. I have become. And when those brief moments appear, and I slip, dancing with death, I fight as all my might will muster. And write a poem. Or paint a picture. Or visit an art museum. Etc. Etc.