I have been thinking about this a lot. I know I can survive. I just don’t feel like it sometimes. My life has been in chaos mode for a while now and I feel like I am just on the edge of survival. But I do know one of the keys to my survival is to just keep swimming. It may seem juvenile to take my life advice from a blue fish in an old movie, but here I am doing it.
I think about the cats when I think of survival. The cats, all five of them, belong to the neighborhood. My house is just their dining room table. They at one time depended on the goodness of my neighbor across the street. She was a nice lady who was tragically killed in a car wreck last summer. Her two children survived the accident. Survival to them is much different. They probably feel a great deal of grief having survived and their mother losing her life on that highway. Survival meant coming home to the father they were trying to get away from and depending upon grandparents to survive. I feel so humbled when I worry about my own survival compared to theirs. I’m going to be lonely for sure, but the people I love are still alive, just being housed somewhere away from me.
The cats survive because they don’t care where they sleep or stay. They truly only see me when it comes to food and I oblige. Their survival depends on me I suppose. And I depend upon them.
I will survive. I know this its just going to take time and patience. I want this chapter in my life to be over already but I have to live through it. And I know I can. I just wish this grief and loneliness would erase itself.
Everything contained on this minute
Is nothing more than the universe
In a drop of rain.
Just a small planet in this galaxy
In a drop of rain.
All of yesterday and tomorrow
In a drop of rain
On a blade of grass
Why do I write? I write because I am lonely. I wasn’t always lonely it comes in waves. The last four years I haven’t been lonely, but I know I will be lonely. My companion is going away for a while. Say that in a hushed tone. He’s being forced to leave. Its not by my choice. So I know that the next five to twenty years will be lonely. Who knows what is in store for me?
But I know I have myself to keep company and writing is one way to do that. Its comforting to get thoughts on paper and screen and to feel them exiting my body. Some people turn to alcohol and drugs to get that sensation but I don’t do either. I just try swimming one stroke at a time until my feet can reach the shore. I tell myself that is how I am going to get over this tragedy, one step at a time, one moment at a time. But now I am not that sure.
But I have this outlet, I have my words. I can write about my journey. I can write about the things I love. I love my bird feeders. Currently I have a woodpecker treat bar, 2 suet cakes and 2 seed feeders. I love watching the birds on my porch as I sit in the living room. There is something about those innocent creatures finding all that they need in the world. They never worry about money. They never worry about being alone. Somehow they scrape by and manage. I will too.