I’ve moved to the mountains, I never thought I would move this far out. But it’s April and National Poetry Month…I always try to write a lot during this time…I believe this will help me.
I keep telling myself things will go back to normal. I’ve written and checked on a few friends. Some have already lost family members. All of this is surreal. I don’t see how it can go back to “normal” if we lose people we love.
I think the worst fear. Or realisation. Is that this doesn’t care who you are, or where you’re from. And you will die alone. Your family cannot day good bye and they cannot grieve your loss…
My dad died alone and so this really hits home for me…
It’s like a shadow covering the sky
You know this will leave a mark…
Holding your breath
You’re constantly thinking about your employees and their safety and your friends and your community, did I clean this ? Did I touch that? Did I do enough?
Are we safe? Are we out of this shadow? or is this just the eye of the storm…
I tried writing a few letters. My hands shake so much, you couldn’t have read it. I’m not really sure the last time I slept well. I wonder about the weather, how it will change everything. We all have short term memory.
Will I run out of things to say?
This is not the end
Just get through these hours
Look for the opportunity
You’re still you
I have this nervous energy
Everyone is awake
Wanting these days to end
And I wonder
If 14 days is enough
I’ve been, along with so many of us, working for 13 days 142 hours and we all see the same things…this isn’t enough, this could be our reality for a few months…
I’ve started trying to keep a better journal, I know this is a once in a lifetime event, everything is happening so fast, I’m very aware that there are events I will miss or forget altogether.
I don’t want to be so caught up in trying to survive or just being self absorbed that I miss it.
Honestly I probably miss a lot. I start my day at 4am and it usually ends around 6 or 7pm
I’ve spent almost 20 years working retail, specifically grocery. I’ve never seen it this wild.
I have a lot of thoughts on a lot of aspects of this, mostly because I over think everything. But I don’t want to add to the hysteria.
I have my cashiers wear gloves and I start every day cleaning empty shelves, registers and shopping carts. Even when the tornadoes came through in 2011 it wasn’t this wild. Most of my days have run together. I’m just trying to write more and not think too much about it. I keep telling myself “this is once in a lifetime.”
But honestly, I’m exhausted. Patient, grateful for community and thankful for a job and my employees. But exhausted.
I’m thinking about moving soon. Maybe to the mountain. I haven’t been that way in years. But it’s where I grew up. I feel strange, a certain way about it. I can’t pin point it. But I will figure it out. I think it might be good for me.
Time heals everything. You grow, trying or not you grow. Like a vine, around and through. Time is going to move you.
I need to start cooking again. I miss it.
I’m trying to piece another manuscript together. I’m not sure why. I just feel like I need to stay busy.
I’m terrified that I’m not a good person. I’m growing older. I just want to be good. Not perfect just good. I need to figure this out. The root. The base value.
Like math everything has a base value. Find it. Break the problem down. It’s easier to digest.
Just be good. Just be good. Be decent. Understanding. Listen.