For the last few days I've been stuck.
I sit down. Open up my laptop.
Open up a window and a blank blog post - just like this one looks to me right now.
And then I sit. And sit. And switch tabs.
And I've got nothing.
I search for music to buy. To listen to.
I hit Facebook. Twitter.
I've got carpal tunnel from sitting here putzing around.
Doing nothing.
Yesterday I lost myself in pictures of my dad.
My dad and me. My dad and my daughter. My dad and my niece.
My dad.
It's easy to lose myself in that sort of stuff.
October is just around the corner.
Two years. It's coming.
I shut down.
Ignore it.
Pretend it's not happening.
Look at pictures.
Imagine his voice.
Maybe that's been it.
Maybe I haven't felt ready to write anything new because I've needed to write about him.
Although I feel I just did.
But I hadn't before that. Not for a while.
Father's Day seems normal. The right time to write.
Now, less so.
But the summer months are big for my family.
I've said that before - I know.
My husband and mom have July birthdays.
My brother and dad, August.
September is my parents' anniversary.
October my birthday.
And the anniversary of when we lost my dad.
I've never not wanted October to come so badly.
Although, that's a lie. Last year I felt the same.
October. Fall. Cooler temps. Pumpkins. Pretty colors.
I loved fall.
I want to still. But I don't. Even if I try to.
Eh.
Here I go again. Rambling.
Writing is good for the soul, I suppose.
I know.
I know it is.
And so I write.
I understand. My father has been gone almost 8 years. We moved to our new home near the beach this past weekend and I kept thinking "damn it, Dad would have LOVED this place." I miss him everyday.
ReplyDeleteThinking about you. Sending a lot of virtual hugs.
ReplyDeleteI cannot wait until I can hug you in person this weekend, my friend. Sending you so much love!
ReplyDeleteI wish I had something profound to say. All I can offer is lots of virtual hugs. ((((((HUGS)))))
ReplyDeleteI am so glad you are writing, and about whatever is in your heart. Hugs friend.
ReplyDelete