Grief
There is a robin that stands in the yard a looks right at me as I sit at the dining room table writing. He was neither spooked by Janet and I walking to or from our walk or as the rain pours down on him in these scattered showers we are getting now. His posture is strong and tall and he seems to be telling everyone that he is here, he is in charge and this is his yard, field, house, human. He often turns and faces me, his chest fire red with a dark head and a bright yellow beak. He picks at the dirt today as my Mother’s…
Moving from City to Country
Every day I have the opportunity to make a choice. To embrace where I have been planted and trust my Husband and my decision to move to the country, get in my car, drive 45 min to an hour with oil truck traffic to the nearest town, or sit in my PJs, cry about my mother passing too soon, and get angry to look out and see grass and not neighbors and sidewalks. Some days I choose trust. I get in my car, get my Mom’s 60th birthday party soundtrack CD in, roll down the window and start to drive. Unfortunately since she passed I choose PJs and tears.
A Pass Through Grief While Enduring Mental Illness
