unfocused mind / fractured thoughts

they are calling it the "supermoon." the full moon of March 19th, 2011, will be closest to the Earth in 19 years ~ only 221,567 miles. i hope it isn't cloudy. i hope i do not have to work until 10 PM and miss it's rising, when it will really look huge due to the atmosphere being denser closer to the horizon.

i keep adding to my Great Sparkly Moon Book. i am trying to find the time to put it up on mixbook with some of my writing. trying to find the time.

stuff has been going on. spats in the widow world on my end, local stuff. stupid stuff. me caught in the middle as the mediator, or the voice of reason, which is funny since all i want to do is smack everyone, tell them to shut up and go away. husbands have died and you're bickering? seriously? for the love of Pete. worse things have happened to you than this petty crap. remember?

i think i'm still treading water. i am just drifting along in my life like i was when he first died. i look to everyone here for contact. i look to everyone who will be letting Bunny visit for my laughter and smiles. Boo has been cracking me up with her and Bunny's antics. loving it. i need the laughter.

my daughter is working things out with her "problem child." she can crack the whip like i've never seen, like i cannot. it takes a lot for me to snarl.

i am thinking of quitting going to see the grief counselor. i cannot connect to her. i just can't. so many missed appointments, and when i go, she just does not seem to really care. i have heard others speak about their counselors and there is a bond there. i know of a woman whom i wish had been my counselor but it is impossible i think. i do work for her for free and it defines the relationship. her ~ "please do this." me ~ "of course." her from a position of power. me ~ worker bee.

i told this other woman, the woman who bartered the deal with me ~ quilt for sessions ~ i told her something that has defined my life. i told her something terrible that had happened to me when i was a very small girl, but it was something that i can recall as if it had happened yesterday. i know where i was, where my mother was, what we were wearing, the sounds in the room, the exact time of day, and i know what it did to me. i know how it changed me and crippled me in a way that, after 49 years, is irreversible.

no one ever knew this had happened to me until i told my Dragon. it is nothing that affects anyone but me. it does not interfere in work, relationships, only how i feel about myself and what i think about myself. only my Dragon had ever known. he held me and cried for me.

then i told the counselor at the widow's retreat in November. it felt good to know that someone else in the world knew about this. with my Dragon gone, i had felt so alone. she reacted like i had hoped she would. it felt good. but then she is not my grief counselor so the ability to really delve into it ended with the end of the retreat that Sunday evening.

so i told my grief counselor. she was very unemotional about it. but then i am not really a patient. i am not really her client. i am in a barter relationship. i get to talk. she gets a quilt. i have worked so very hard on her quilt. if i do say so, it is gorgeous. the talks? so many cancelled due to holidays and her going away and ice. and my taking two of them to take care of getting tags for my car and to take care of my daughter. then she flat out forgot me that one time. her apology was, "people forget stuff sometimes." that stuff was me. her associate in the office thought it was extremely odd, not like her. it was, she said, "very out of the ordinary. she has never forgotten a client."

i have not seen her since she forgot me. she had to cancel another appointment.

i do not think it will be bad for me to just slip away. i do not think she really cares all that much. she's waiting on her quilt and she knows i will honor my word. i think i can just ease away from her and she won't really even notice as long as she gets the quilt.

i miss my Dragon. i miss evenings like this with the rain falling and a cool breeze coming through the screen of the open window. we would talk. or read. his presence in the room was always comfortable. he was warm. very warm body. sometimes i would play with his beard while he read. he'd smile and try to focus on the book.

i was just always so fascinated with him. he was so handsome. he smelled so good. he never got put out or tired of me just touching him. like i was blind and he was my braille book. just touching him.

did i mention this month has the 'supermoon?' i hope it isn't cloudy.