Patience Abby

August 11, 2009

There is a homemade blueberry cobbler sitting in my kitchen cooling at this very moment. Can you smell it? Oh the warm sugary scent and the sight of those fresh, plump blueberries peeking out from under the golden top; I can't wait! Rosie Thomas is singing in the background. Jeremy's off at work. Django's sleeping. I'm home by myself. Myself. Me.

I need some time, some space for me right now. To breath. To think. To be. I've been almost frantic for a while now, feeling like I needed to make something major happen, feeling desperate for life to be different than it was before. (God I hate that there is a before.) How can I feel so changed and everything, all the little details of life, still be the same? It's just not right.

But this is where I need to pause and to breath. I still get lost almost every day in my memories. They sneak up on me and wrap their fingers around my mouth. I'm frozen in the feeling of it. The feeling of being mute in a body that is crying out for help. Of being terrified of the continuing pain. The feeling of resignation that I will be dying soon.

My mind needs some time. I need some space to let myself be with it all. It's not over, this healing process. Much as I wish it was, it is not. And that's okay. I'll give myself what I need. Patience Abby. Patience.