When crying is inconvenient ...

Hold me, Mama. I'll make you feel better. — Socks

Sometimes when I wait too long to post, those things that mattered to me at the time don't seem important anymore ... either because it takes too much energy to remember it all like it was and how it felt, or because I can't even remember anymore.

So first things first: I'm sitting right in the middle of the anniversary of my parents' deaths. Mom died May 13 last year, and Dad died May 23.

I feel as though I've been on a roller coaster of inexplicable emotions. I'm happy one minute ... on top of the world with all the possibilities, and then I'm bawling the next. I'll smile at happy memories, and then I'll cry when I think of the last several months of my parents' lives. I still feel angry when I picture my parents doing the normal things they did, and then realize they aren't here anymore. I continue to think, "This isn't the way it was supposed to be." Every day holds something in it that belongs to my parents. Every day.

Mostly, though, I find myself just being irritable ... unless I'm being distracted with activities, such as cleaning, redecorating, watching Jordie's baseball games, traveling, listening to audiobooks on the road, watching HGTV, or as it has been a lot lately, hanging out with my sister.

The anniversary week of my mom's death, I spent several days at Kim's. We ran errands, got our nails and toes done, went to eat several times, and hung out with Kim's other "sister" Melissa. Then I spent last week, up until yesterday, with Kim in Hutchinson, Kan., to watch Jordie and his team play baseball. We watched games, wandered through downtown, found neat little local eateries and took Jordie out to eat. (Hutchinson isn't a bad little place!)

I've found, however, that these distractions only postpone reality. When not engaged in distractions, I'm truly awful.

The fact is, it would be easier to just cry and cry and cry and cry ... except it's never convenient to do that. Being around people and crying is uncomfortable for everyone, including me; crying in the car makes seeing and concentrating difficult; even crying in front of pets seems to make the pets uncomfortable. Crying also gives me a massive headache. The day before Mother's Day, I went to the cemetery and spent a couple of hours ... I sat for quite awhile, but only after I cleaned the bird crap off the headstone and pulled all the dandelions from their burial plots. (I suppose I should go again soon, just for the sake of upkeep.) I cried for Mom. I cried for Dad. I cried for Koda. And my head hurt for two days after that visit.

Crying is inconvenient, painful and unwanted. Period.

So here I am today, plodding through each activity and making lists of things I need to accomplish in the upcoming days and weeks. I put one foot in front of the other, with some footsteps more graceful than others.

That's just how it goes, and today isn't all that graceful.