a pick me up

I have to force myself to continue each day. Otherwise I would sit and look at pictures all day long, blowing my nose, curled up on the sofa with Mary’s “comfy” blankets around me.

I lit a candle for Mary tonight and it was down hill after that. I went down stairs to make room for her things. Yes, I did a little bit over the weekend but not much. So I tried again. It did not work. Kerry and I were arguing, almost but not quite yelling and I ended up laying on the floor crying while he went upstairs. (We kissed and made up later.) Everything I touched reminded me that all these things I have spread out are because of Mary. She got me back in to sewing and making things. I want to keep them and throw them all away at the same time.

In all my years I have never known tears to flow like a water fall. My clothes are soaked. I think I’m holding them back too much and then in one moment all hell breaks loose. Guess I should try not holding it in so much.

While writing this I logged in to Facebook and told the world I was having a bad night. It’s amazing how many people you know are logged in doing the same thing. Lots of Mary’s friends sent me notes and messages about Mary. It was very heart warming. Just when I was falling down, people picked me up.

I need to go to bed to get some rest. I have so much to do. I’m falling behind at work and at home. I will try harder tomorrow to accomplish something, anything. Maybe I’ll cook something. Haven’t done that in awhile. Poor family.

My poems are in pieces right now. Can’t put the words down, can’t understand what I’m feeling.