good grief

i have this thing when i grieve. sometimes it hits me like a kick in the gut and i find myself kneeling on the floor, doubled over, wailing.

and i try not to let it all out when it hits me...because it usually makes the dog pretty nervous.

but the dog is east and i am west and i found myself on the floor for a moment tonight.

it wasn't a long moment. something just caught me by surprise. something silly.

i am taking advantage of the dog-free time to do some organizing and i am packaging rarely used dishes that are in a cabinet so i can use the cabinet for something more practical. and the dishes are wrapped in paper. and the odd bits: the gravy boat, sugar bowl, creamer, etc... are carefully wrapped with notations on the outside of each like "ivy gravy boat" or"ivy sugar bowl lid." in mummy's handwriting. because she was as excited as i was when i found a thousand dollars worth of antique california pottery at the salvation army store in santa monica for $150. that christmas, she gave me a book all about california pottery. when i moved up to san francisco she helped me pack it. when i unpacked it, i left it in the paper.

she helps me pack. she helps me clean. she helps me figure out where to keep dishes. she and i have so much fun together no matter how mundane the chore.

and the moment of doubled over sobbing was brief...because she is still here. and although i know that she will not be here forever, there is comfort in the fact that i see her handwriting all over my house and all over my life.

but there i was on the floor. and then it passed almost as quickly as it came over me. and i was left staring at some really ugly linoleum tiles. and i got out a utility blade and started to pull them up. only to find uglier ones underneath. and it is therapeutic because it is hard work. and now i don't have to wonder how i am going to spend these next few nights alone on the west coast...because i have started something that i now have to finish.

a year ago in july, lisa called me and told me that her little brother had died suddenly that morning. it was so incredibly unfair. and i found myself on the floor in the guest room (mom's room). and after it passed i was left with my face pressed against a really ugly wall to wall carpet. so i got out a utility knife and cut it out. and then i got pliers and found every carpet tack that had been stuck in that floor since 1928. and i spent the whole day on that floor.

it hits you, and then it knocks you over. and then you open your eyes and you don't worry about anything except that which is right in front of you.

it becomes good grief when you can turn the rush of bad feelings into something good and productive and positive. it becomes better when you realize that no matter how awful you feel at any given moment, you realize that we are not wired to feel awful forever. thank god.

my kitchen floor is hideous.