Drifting in 2023

I’m in pain today. Excruciating body pain. And so cold, despite it being a perfectly acceptable temperature both inside and out, that my hands turned white.

I know it’s because I showered, got dressed, and went for a walk in town .. and because I’ve barely eaten a thing in the last two weeks, so my body has been running on fumes as it is.

I thought the fresh air and spring sunshine would do me good. I suppose it did in a way until I got back to Emily’s and began shivering uncontrollably and hurting. Like full body fibro flare hurting.

I drank some orange juice in hopes of getting my sugars up, they were probably in the toilet since I’ve been sustaining myself on coffee and the odd slice of pizza or chicken for entirely too long.

I curled up on the couch and dozed in and out while Emily made the most epic chicken pasta salad of all time, using leftover chicken from last night, cucumbers, orange peppers, green onions, and cheese. I ate a whole full bowl, so I’m pretty stoked about that.

While in town I stopped into the tattoo shop and put the deposit down on my tattoo for Thursday afternoon.

On my walk down main street I heard the thunder of footsteps behind me and then a tap on my shoulder and there was Emily’s best friend, Emma, and she enveloped me in the biggest longest hug on the sidewalk. She teared up with me, and whispered, “It’s okay, mama, we love you.”

While chatting outside with the tattoo artist, another friend of Emily’s passed by, squeezed me tight, and told me to let her know if there was anything her family could do, as her mom is quite worried about me too.

Walking back the other way to pick Emily up from work, and walk home with her, her brother-in-law jogged across the street to me and folded me in to his arms (when did these damn kids grow bigger and taller than me!?).

Visiting my dearest friend Erin (who happens to be Emily’s mom-in-law, epic win) when her oldest daughter got home from school while I was there, saw me, and as we hugged tightly, we cried into eachothers shoulders.

It’s very strange to be here. I’m accustomed to being recognized wherever I go in town, this has been my home for almost a decade … or it was. But I’m not accustomed to the way I feel when people see me.

These friends of my kids, graduated and grown now, that I used to do drive-byes at the skatepark or beach to, and I’d throw boxes of popsicles out my car window at them to share around in the summer heat … they’re comforting me now.

Like those big parachutes we used to play with in gym class, back in the day .. I feel like the person in the middle of the parachute when everyone brings their side down and you’re in a big bubble of fabric & air .. alone in the middle, but surrounded by people.

Thats what being a widow feels like. A widow. I’m a widow now.

Of all the things I’ve been called in life … widow is the worst.