Wednesday, October 15, 2008

So much and yet so little to say

It seems as though I can compose entire blogs in my head while I'm in the shower or while driving to work or while I'm doing anything but sitting in front of my computer. Then I sit down with my laptop and faced with this blank page I forget everything I wanted to talk about. So, this blog will be a compilation of a few of the things I can remember thinking I should blog about.

So, since the theme of this blog is memories the lyrics for today are from the musical Cats and the song of course is Memory.

All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again

First I'll talk about the random flash of memory I had last week when it was unseasonably cold here in New England. My mother suggested putting up curtains across my stairs to keep the heat on the first floor where I spend my evenings. So, when she was here a couple weeks ago we did that. One evening early last week I went upstairs to go to the bathroom and as I was walking down the cold hallway (the curtains DO work for keeping the heat where I want it!) I had a flash of memory. It was just a half a second but it took me all the way back to being a little kid. The flash of memory was of the stairwell at my grandmother's house. She always kept the door closed at the bottom and most of the time at the top as well. In the winter that stairwell was very cold. And it had a certain smell. Not a bad smell or a good smell just a unique to that stairwell smell. I actually smelled it when I had that flash of memory last week. I wonder if my cousins remember that smell or ever think about those stairs? The stairs we used to ride mattresses down "in secret" while the grownups were talking about grownup things in the living room or the dining room or the kitchen.

Next, memories. What would we do without our memories? We would probably torture ourselves less with the what ifs and the if onlys and the could have, should have, would haves. I can't help but wonder how things might be different for me today if. That's it, just if. How would I be different if I'd never moved to CT? What if I was the one who ended the relationship way back when it should have been ended? What if I'd taken a different job when I first moved here? What if I'd gone to a different college? What if, what if, what if? But the what ifs do no good. This, right here right now, is where I am in my life. And for the most part I'm happy with it. I like who I am, I love myself and that's what's the most important.

Memories also carry us through the hard times. My dog has been sick. I'm not even sure if sick is the right term for it. She can't walk because of a bulging disc somewhere in the middle of her back (technical veterinary diagnosis is disc disease). I'm terrified for her and what it means for her future. But I look at her and try to see past the discomfort and the sadness and remember her as she was and will be again, the goofy and happy go lucky little beagle that she is. My little Magnolia Blossom. My little beagle butt girl. I'll look back on this blog in six months and be able to smile at the memory of she and I "walking" in the yard, me holding her back end up with a sling made out of my fleece scarf. We make quite the sight. She doesn't quite get that I'm too big to travel along her typical routes and I am not the best at keeping her body aligned so sometimes she fishtail's a little bit.

I know there are more things I wanted to blog about, but frankly my mind has been a bit mushy lately. Worrying about your baby will do that to you and my dog is my baby. I don't have or want children of my own so my pets are my children (just ask their piano teacher, joking, but closer to the truth than I'd normally like to admit). I just wish she could talk to me, tell me if she's feeling any better or if it's worse. Tell me what might help her feel better. Tell me if the medicine is making her stomach upset or if she's thirsty or hungry or sad or lonely or whatever. Instead I tell her how much I love her and how we're going to make her all better and hope that I'm not telling her a lie. I can't bear the thought of my little girl not smiling her goofy smile at me as she throws herself down on my bed and rolls over for a belly rub when I get home from work and she's over joyed that I returned! Again! Or never seeing her get so exciting she can't contain herself when she realizes we're going for a walk so she does her "We're going for a WALK!" dance. Or even watching her roll in ecstasy in some other animal's poop that I know I'm going to have to wash off of her and her collar. There is nothing in the world that can take away the "I'm having a shitty day" feelings for me than seeing her so happy to see me.

And seeing my little girl hurting and trying to drag herself around using only her front legs makes me a little lonely. I'm not even sure lonely is the word I want here. It's more that I'm feeling an absence in my life. Missing that person to turn to for comfort, for a hug. My friends are all great of course and supportive and fantastic, but I miss having that special person to share this with. The one I can cry with or to and who will just put her arms around me and that simple act alone will make me feel better. I miss that. I don't need it to survive or complete me or anything like that, but I do miss it. I do feel the absence.

One other random tidbit. Dictionaries are great, but if you don't know how to spell the word they're awfully hard to use....and I am not the world's best speller. Ponder that for a bit.

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