a poem and an unrelated pic

JG sent this sweet, sad poem she wrote for me:

Tending
You were in my dream last night,
Sister of my heart.
I could not touch
your beautiful sadness,
could not carry
the weight of
your mother’s absence--
heavier than a suitcase of saris--
could only witness
the pain that seared you,
and see her light
within you.
_______________________
 Pic: Big A and me at the lip of the Bright Angel Trail, with The Grand Canyon behind us. My arm behind Big A is not holding him, it's holding the railing. We went on to descend about 3.5 miles in. It took us an hour and half on the way down and roughly twice that to climb back up. There were points along the way when I'd look up the trail and people seemed so far up, it felt like I'd never make it up there... but eventually I would pass there too...

one month in

Somehow... and I want to say "suddenly" it has been a month since I got that call from my sister: "Akka, Amma passed away this morning."

There have been lifetimes compressed into this month, journeys that would usually be planned for months. Sadness and (what feels like) fibromyalgia pain and constant nausea won't leave me...

And yet, every morning when I wake up, I walk myself through a reminder that this thing happened... it's a doorway I will have to enter and exit all day. 

I keep saving things to tell her on our daily chats/calls... I hear the quirky things she says in my head all the time... and honestly, I still feel very loved by my mom.

Pic: I added mom's mangalsutras to my own wedding necklace. I rarely wear mine; you can tell mom wore hers every second of her fifty-six years of marriage. (Usually, the Telugu wedding necklace has two of the disc-shaped lockets--one from the bride's parents and one from the groom's. In my mom's case while her parents gave her the typical Telugu pottu, my dad's family gave her the M-shaped Tamil thali. Although they too are Telugu, the Wandawasis have a tradition of wearing the Tamil-style thali to honor the Tamil family who fostered the heir who had been smuggled out of the Wandawasi fort when it was besieged by the British.)

Normal--Medium--Max

I've promised myself that I'll be more normal after midterm break. In the meantime, every one is just so kind. I worry that I'm failing to thank people in time and they'll think I'm taking them for granted... but also I know my people and they are all about extending grace. Friends who are close by continue to hold me up; friends who are far away have started on Round #2 of cards and things...

And I received an unusual and generous gift certificate to a medium from a friend who just had her own first highly successful visit herself. I never even thought of approaching one, but now preparing for my appointment (as yet unbooked) is all I can think of. If I have a worry, it's that I won't hear from my mom or Scout OR that I will and then I'll be addicted.

Pic: Max (barely visible here) is the best right now. He really wants nothing from me except my presence... not even my attention or awareness.

not alone

a mild day for a grim pilgrimage

the light spread thin as sleep 

over a dream in which

no one has died 

an empty day 

a safe day

in the fold

of the next one

falling unremarked--

a pebble in the current-- 

hoping you will be called 

by your childhood name again 

__________

Pic: Water fowl on the Red Cedar; from my walk yesterday.
 

every crack I see...

The only thing that comforts me on some level is being able to take myself off on long, almost punishing walks... It's a luxury reserved for days when I have the time. Then when I do I always feel a pang of anguish for a dear friend who also enjoys walks but can't right now because of a mysterious health condition. Hearing her describe herself as being "scared" breaks my heart a bit more every time I think of it (every day).

Another friend suffered extensive burns last week in a freakish accident and I can't imagine how traumatic the pain, memories, and recovery will be. Or how challenging it will be to parent and not hug or cuddle.

And all this is just exacerbating my already existing anxiety about how we might not know it, but disaster might be just around the corner. Ugh.

I was superstitious enough to never step on any cracks but now I don't have to care. Like the lyrics in "Nothing Compares to You," "I can do whatever I want." I could step on every crack, if I wanted.

Pic: A giant sack of laundry and all my lovely, loving kids. My human kids kindly descended on me this weekend to wrap me in hugs and cuddles and marathon sessions of the Criterion Channel and Never Have I Ever. 

creep

Things keep creeping up on me...

I thought book club was next week, it was yesterday. 

I thought I was doing a Zoom poetry reading for an event at Agnes Scott College on the 27th of October... nope; it was today. I managed to show up on time Zoom ready (silk blouse on top, tracksuit bottoms) and read ok, I think (at least from the kind comments people shared). 

Our Grand Canyon trip is next week. I don't know if I'm ready for this trip I've waited for all my life.

Pic: A screenshot of the reading from the organizer.

three weeks...

Today felt strange... a committee that usually meets every Friday cancelled a couple of meetings and met for the first time since the day I heard the news about Amma. It made me uneasy and it took me a long time to find my voice. 

And because I was already mourning At's ex when this happened, it feels like grief is escalating. On some level, I fear more is coming my way.

In my body I am silent. I hurt and now I'm constantly nauseous. 

So far, the only place I feel like myself is in the classroom. And student services. (By the end of the weekend, I'll have fulfilled my beginning-of-term obligations as advisor to three of four organizations. Or so I hope.)