I haven’t a clue.
January has come and gone. I visited Cielo and it was good. Mari Rosa is surviving her brush with stage 3 breast cancer, thanks to medical treatment provided by donations through the mission, made by people who can afford such things. Not me. I took a few little gifts to my sponsor child, who isn’t afraid of me anymore. She’s five now, and two years does make a difference when dealing with strangers , so that was good.
Wubby is still living at home, working part-time retail. His girlfriend mostly lives here too, except for occasional trips to her parents’ house to check on her mom and her pets. Little Girl is almost 17, doing wonderfully in school after taking a year off to catch up with herself. She had a brush with romance that faded quickly, seeming to leave her no worse for the experience.
Hubby is working a lot, and stressed a lot.
I look around me and wonder to myself, “What would be different around here if I just disappeared?” and can’t come up with a decent answer.
Do I really have anything to say that matters to anyone anymore? Not really.
While we were in Cielo, someone asked the question “Who are we when we aren’t who we once were?” That’s a good question, one that I don’t have an answer to and don’t quite know how to go about finding out. I know who I used to be: I used to be working and productive and proud of my accomplishments. I used to be “Mommy, I need some help!?; now I’m just “Hi Mom.” I used to be a pianist, and a decent one. I used to be able to think clearly; now it’s hard to remember yesterday, and tomorrow is another blank day that will look exactly like this one.
I hate winter, I really do, but there used to be the sense of hope that comes with spring. I can’t see it now, or feel it, or have any sense of its being there waiting.
I don’t really feel anything right now, including any sense of purpose in keeping this blog going.
I have become my grandmother in all the not-so-good ways.
And that’s all there is to say.