Talking to Myself

by | Aug 30, 2010 | 0 comments

It is very, very lonely in a one bedroom apartment with a toddler and no other adult.  You prepare meals, eat them together at the table alone, clean them up.  You play, and bathe, and read.

And then once she’s asleep, you sit in your room and wonder what to do with yourself.  It’s quiet.  It’s dark outside.

If I speak out loud as if I’m speaking to you, there is no comfort at all.  You see, it is the person’s presence that allows your voice to sound a certain way- as if you’re really talking to someone- not just yourself.

JAC

August 30, 2010
v

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You May Also Like…

December 17, 2014- A New Blog

It has been almost a year and a half since I last wrote on this blog.  In my mind, this blog was complete.  And yet, there was a lack of finality to it.  Grief has no finality, though it does have evolution and change, while this blog does have finality simply because...

Speed of Light

On the eve of your death I am watching town fireworks the day after the fourth of July. I am overwhelmed by the crowd of families around us on blankets with glo-sticks and cotton candy as we wait for darkness in the still, hot, summer air.  There is a Korean...

Father’s Day 2013

Father’s Day 2013

This is the third time.  It is brutal.I haven't felt it helpful or complex enough to say, "It's not fair; it's just not fair," in the past three years.  But on this day, I think those words a lot. Unless your young child has lost a parent, you cannot imagine...