Mornings*

Every morning I wake with the INTENTION (I love this word all that it represents) of being strictly positive. But even if I skip the news, which never fails to bring me to tears; I look at Blu and think, "how much longer?" and I lose it. Or I wake up with stomach pains and think, "how am I going to go through surgery without mom?" Again, I lose it. I may have had a dream of someone from the past, usually Patrick, and I am instantly tearful. It always ends up bringing me to alligator tears. Big, heart-wrenching sobs escape me---no matter what I do. Then my day has begun with negativity. I cannot even watch commercials because I fear they will be so tender and touching that I will weep. I keep pep talking myself saying "Chin up girl!", you have made it through, yet, another day, but inside I shrivel. Each positive thing I accomplish...is like an injection of the dragon...I constantly chase that high, only to come down again, eventually. I breathe, I do yoga, I meditate, I pray, I hold my Apache Tear, I snuggle my kitties or Blu, then it all comes rushing back in. Every day, I wipe the dried tears from the lenses of my glasses, put on a smile, and head out to wherever life has taken me...work, school, plans with friends or family, only to get in my car and hear a song, or drive by a place and experience such instant, breathtaking nostalgia, that I am again brought to tears. People say, "you seem so upbeat," but that is because I save every ounce of cheer for others; even then the occasional wan tear slips through. I journal or blog, get it out...but within moments, minutes, or hours, the pain and loss I feel returns. I am so stuck. And losing mom left a gaping hole inside of me that no one else can possibly fill. Fleeting, momentary distractions come and they go, but I always come home, to my house and my fur babies and just cannot seem to look around me and find the glass half full. In my lifetime, I have cried a small ocean of tears---tears over hurt inflicted by men, mostly, but tears over family and friends that are lost to me and all of my special beloved animals-my children-that have gone before me, but in the past 13 months and 28 days, I have cried as much over my mom because I miss her, I want to see her, I want to hug her neck and squeeze her little hand and hear her voice. I want her to demand justice for my heartache and be here by my side, I want to erase her pain and all the dignity and loss she suffered in the last months of her life. If there was ever an angel upon this earth that did not deserve to lose her life, especially as my mom did, it was her. Anyone who knew her would agree. So that is just a taste of the immensity of the loss that I feel every single day. Do I feel better after writing this? No. But did I let it out? Yes. Does it matter? I just do not see how. It would just be so pleasurable to see the light and the positivity and set my INTENTION to have a good day. To see that glass half full instead of half empty. As of yet, I have not found the thing that will help me with this. But every morning I wake with the hope that today will be the day that I begin to heal. So every day, in spite of my great sadness, I get up, I put my feet on the ground and I try.