A Mind, Lively and at Ease • RSS • archive • LMGMD

The difference between curb and car door proved entirely too short. Gas pedal down. I tried to get a last look but luggage blocked the view. The constant awareness of taking other people’s time forced a quick removal. Already, despite being mere yards away, they left to the other side of the country and I was driving a car alone through a crowd of families and friends. 

I made the worst decision as to how to fill the rest of my time. As my parents made their way through the airport, I drove over to a huge mall. I hate malls. Not necessarily hate, but I find the experience exhausting unless I cut off most of my peripherals and make certain not to investigate the personalities of every single person passing my way. More families. More friends. Teenagers leaning provocatively against railings, looking for cute members of the opposite sex. A girl flipping her hair. 

This mall featured a carousel at the end of a food court. Moms stood next to toddlers on miniature horses impaled by golden rods. Over-gilded, impressive and yet somehow annoying.

I think of her face the next time I see her. I think of the next few lines that will appear, a symptom of stress I couldn’t help alleviate. Will she be happy? Do I have much more time with her?

The first death of a loved one leaves only a mesh of gauze to replace its hole. There’s no healing. You discover the scar feels like a missing appendage. Phantom limb. Precious. Precious time.

I didn’t know how to act. How do you accept the fact that the person you’ve lived with your entire life, who knows the most about you, who gave you everything she had, disappeared with the plane over a horizon? Localization seems so simple. I act like a dog, worried that it will be the last time I see her—one instant she’s there and the next she could be as alive as my kitchen chair. 

I rummaged through sales racks and found some things to buy with my Christmas money. Even though it’s all gift money, I felt the bills slip out of my hands like water. Catholic guilt swept in. I’m doing something wrong. I’m spoiling myself. I’m buying a jacket, top and skirt when I should save for dog and cat food, refilling a prescription and a whole lot of other future purchases. 

I told her that Grandpa, diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, needs her. I told her that new experiences were out there. I told her to keep her options open.

She’s gone. 

“I’m twenty-two, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m an adult.”

“Your children are all grown up, it’s time to think about yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

What did I do? What did I do? How could I push my mother away, even if I believed it was better for the both of us?

Oh. Right. 

Because everything I said was true.

I’m fine, I’m an adult, and my wonderful mother deserves a life of her own choosing—not the confines of a city no longer nourishing her spirit.

See, Mom. It’s all okay. I’m writing like I said I would. I’m putting your investments to use. I’m doing what you told me to do. I’m spending a lot of time with friends. I spent the money you gave me as a gift on presents to myself. 

Sometimes it’s best to live as well you can. Sometimes that’s the greatest treatment of a heart filled with sorrow and loss. Sometimes that’s the best way to pay back a parent’s love, acceptance, and investments in your future. 

Hope that the weather in Tucson may be forever lovely and that the sun greets you as I would with a smile. May I one day be able to dedicate the clean, bright first page of a book with three words, Thank you Mom. 

I miss you already. 

Rare sights in less than 24 Hours meandering around the Appalachians

• Beaver
• Elk
• Groundhog
• Robin (should’ve migrated further north already)
• Black bear cub
• My busy big brother
• That lifting spirit only vast wilderness can give to the soul

Going to interrupt here and say how much I’m enjoying just watching someone else play this game, and even now my parents are standing here watching it, unable to move away from the screen. 

Family video game night! Hell yes. 

:D hehe

If You Give a Kid a Power Drill

     Cigarettes and shiny new gadgets remind me of my brother. The staunch, lingering smell of stale tobacco immediately forces a picture of knowledge and red hair. He holds his cigarette like a professor, making outward movements toward you as if his teachings could emanate from the smoke through your nose to your intoxicated brain.

     I used to be afraid of him. That much is true. He is a lot older now, leading a successful life in the surpassing circuitry L.A. makes, jumping with energy and electricity around the world’s motherboard. He also reminds me a little of the Matrix—the essence of him is teeming with green ones and zeros collected with red and black wires.

     He lost his passport in Seoul. He can tell you about how great Medellin is, and that Qatar is just plain strange. Suitably, he amasses a great amount of social networking. As the best example, Muse lives down the street from him. One visit, being the silly little girl I was, I asked whether he could get their autographs. He replied that it would be weird for a friend to ask them, almost socially improper. Nevertheless, I was disappointed.

     When I was about seven or eight, in one of those peaks of utter brattyness—another being high school—I drilled holes in the tires of his Jeep Wrangler after being tickled just way too much. The escaping sigh of air reflected his respect for me.

     Never again will I forget the expense of four brand new pieces of rubber.

     Over the years, I cannot say that we had the best brother-sister relationship. Recently though, I have happily retained my status as baby sister. I feel almost automatically settled with content. Though we’ll never forget how I retaliated with a drill bit after he tried to tickle me into cleaning my room, it has become only a very funny story in a series of memories.

“Orange Sky” - Alexi Murdoch

I’m in love with Alexi Murdoch after watching Away We Go. I just get an impulse to reconsider my life and considering the weight of my family’s love. Pretty sweet.

“In your love, my salvation lies in your love.”