Just about a year ago, we said goodbye to Mom. I’ve noticed my blog posts have slowed since then, and perhaps I’ve just been out of words. Years ago, a writer friend told me that after losing his father, he was unable to write for awhile, but he really enjoyed monster-killing computer games in the interim. I now understand that in a whole new way.
Marking this anniversary seemed like a good time to think about what is different now, one year later. This is what I came up with:
I have an all new anger about the fact that we live in linear time and space. In truth, I’ve always had a bit of a problem with this. But now I feel it in a new way that things change in such a way that it is impossible to go back. This feels so much less reasonable than it used to.
I feel the fragility and temporary nature of things in my life so much more than before.
I no longer feel like a young person. Granted, this is a matter of perspective. In my early twenties I was telling a story to an older man, something I said happened “a long time ago.” He said, “You haven’t lived long enough for anything to have happened to you a long time ago.” He argued that the minimum that could qualify as a long time ago is 30 years, and I still have few memories that precede 30 years ago. Perhaps it’s more the sense of the passage of time, and of loss.
I have less patience for minor things being regarded as catastrophe. Yesterday I saw a TV commercial in which characters were outraged that their cable plan required them to purchase multiple DVRs. It made me feel vaguely like punching the TV. (Don’t worry; I didn’t.)
So, friends, bear with me while I try to find words and string them into sentences and record them here. I haven’t given up. It has just become harder for the moment. But I do keep coming back.