I feel like I'm treading water here lately. Doggy peddling in the ocean, flipping over on my back to rest by floating every so often. I'm just so damn tired, Mama. Tired of the ups and downs and all arounds. Nothing major is going on. The kids are healthy and back at school. We have everything we need and most of what we want. We are living in the blissful bubble of suburbia. But all I can think about lately is that I just want to talk to you.
Robin Williams committed suicide the other day. And if you were alive, we would have sorted out the whole deal over the phone. We would have reminisced about all his movies we loved so dearly... Dead Poets Society, Mrs. Doubtfire, and What Dreams May Come. Remember that one? The one where the daughter dies, and then husband (played by Robin Williams) dies, and the wife just can't go on and ends up killing herself. We watched it together. It was weird, but I liked it. Sadly, I can't remember if you liked it or not, and that bothers me so much. Anyway, I would tell you how ironic it is that he was in this movie about going through the gates of hell to retrieve his wife so they could be together in heaven, and now here he's gone and killed himself. It's so sad, him being so talented and amazing and at the same time so desperate. My heart breaks for his family because I can't imagine how much more complicated it might be to mourn someone who chose to end it instead of mourning someone who fought so hard to stay.
I feel a little isolated, like I'm hiding in a closet somewhere for a little while. I wouldn't say I'm depressed, but rather I feel I'm just wandering with little to no purpose. I used to be abustle all the time working on this and that and completing projects around the house. Even shortly after you died, I kept myself fairly busy. But lately, I just don't have the energy. Or the motivation to start anything. Well, maybe I am a little depressed, but isn't that a part of grief? I don't know. I am so very sick of grief. It's a lonely thing in and of itself, and the further time goes on, the more lonely a feeling it becomes. No one wants to chat about how much you miss your Mama who's been dead for over two years, how you have to stop your mind from spinning, how your chest feels so heavy sometimes you wish you could take it off and sit it to the side just to get a break. No one wants to chat about this heaviness, this emptiness. How can something so empty feel so heavy at the same time?
Surprisingly, I miss my little Millie kitty way more than I thought I would. It's quiet in the house. You know how loud and talkative that cat had always been! And now, no matter what, when I sit down there's no Millie to come and purr in my lap. I do miss that. I don't miss the throw up and litter box, but I do miss Millie. But no one really wants to talk about that, either, except the kids. We talk about her and how we miss her.
Oh well. Life moves on. It moves and moves and moves whether you'd like it to or not. And so it goes. But I wonder if there will ever be a day in my life that I don't long to talk to you just one more time... I doubt.