Did I say in my last post that I didn't expect any more drama? Famous last words as they say. End of typical Bliss-household day: Sassy ran out the front door near ten. Black Sassy, ran out onto a street with no streetlamps, with lots of bushes, where many driveways have access paths to the trails. Problem was that she ran out without anyone seeing her - she snuck out at some point. So for about fifteen minutes while we were all looking for her, we were all thinking this was it, she was going to really disappear into the suburbs.
Thank goodness A has bat eyes - he stepped out the door and yelled, "I see her!" We all ran out, me with the leash, M with the flashlight, D with a dog biscuit, and J with the judgment of everyone involved.
Fun, fun, fun.
Near three in the morning, J woke D and I with his tics. Total insomnia then for the three of us. Didn't get back to sleep until five. More fun.
We did finally see a neurologist today for the tics and got a new medication to try: Keppra. I keep wanting to call it Kreppa...a la Crappa...because the poor kid has had no luck with the other four medications he's tried. However, I am actually seeing an improvement. Seriously...fifteen minutes have passed since I last heard him and he is nearby. Can see him out the window here, skating back and forth, hair pulled back.
He's funny though because if I ask him about it, or comment about it, then he'll tic. Very suggestible. So shhhh...ixnay on the ic-tay.
How boring is this blog post? I clearly need connection with the world outside the one I'm living in because I've been wanting to post, wanting to write...I plop myself at my laptop at the dining room table because J has taken over my office. I find though that I'm lacking the energy to spread in any detail the thoughts across the page, too lazy to sprinkle and arrange and fold and toss letters. I really wanted to submit something to qarrtsiluni since Brenda and Dale both did (me too, me too!) but nothing comes when I try to get creative, try to put out something fictional or unreal or beautiful.
Cabbage. J wants me to cut up some cabbage for him, purple cabbage with lemon, a splash of oil, and salt. My mother used to make that for us when were kids and she always did it without question. I complain, put it off. Not now, in a minute, get off my ASS! Okay, cabbage. Cut, chop, mince. Put the stuff into two bowls for the two boys. Pour the lemon dressing.
In an earlier post of mine a commenter used the word, "lonely." I realize that I didn't know loneliness until my mother died. I can be surrounded by my family now but deep down, deep within, I still feel lonely and that feeling did not exist when my mother was alive. Is that coincidence? Did my mother's death coincide with the death of passion in my marriage or with the birth of my third child? Is tiredness cloaked in "loneliness"? I don't know. A couple of weeks ago I had dinner with my sister and her friend JC, and I was upset about the deal with my brother and I remember weeping a little at a stoplight, eleven at night, and feeling terribly alone. Nobody to call, nowhere to crash on a couch, the bed I'd crawl into would be a bit cold, and not heart-warm but even if it was, it wouldn't be the warmth of my mother.
My grandmother had told me, tried to explain to me, that I should not feel lonely ever because she is here and I am her heart. But...but..I keep her at bay because death does cut off the connection. The end of grief has cut off the connection. I no longer cry for my parents and with that cessation a thread has been cut.
Cabbage...purple, lemony, crunchy, filling. Yes, yes, I'll do it. Here, my sweet, in the blue striped bowl. Just for you.