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In this blog I have created a haven, a place I allow my deepest emotions to go and sit. I can write easily about what I’ve accomplished. This biography I can recite in my sleep. But I’ve always written poetry and in diaries since I was a teenager. I continued to write poetry in my journals, and not until 2006 did I show them to anyone. I generally write every day, at the present in memoir form. I haven’t written poetry since my mother died in January, 2007. I didn’t write at all between her death and the death of my father three years later in January, 2010. On my father’s birthday in March, 2010, I began this blog, to honor my father and to help me grieve. But I also desperately needed to write, and this stream of conscious style emerged. I needed to find my organic voice.

Friday, October 7, 2011

A string of good days

My week has been a succession of good days. I have given up trying to solve the fatigue issue. I think it is with me to stay; it's either the last part of depression that meds can't fix, or it's the fibromyalgia that always saps my energy. The week, though, has been relatively stress-free, and in fact, somewhat exciting. I will share more plans later as they become concrete, but I am making the trip to CT to see my sister's bakery open, and then spend Halloween with my niece and nephew. I've no idea if they are, at 10 and 8, even still INTO Halloween; for me it is a sacred holiday: my mother was first found, near death, on Oct 31st. My grandparents were married in Italy October 31st. The last three Halloween's of my dad's life I was there, and we took the Peepsters trick or treating. That was a big deal for Poppi, who was much sicker than we knew. I feel like I want to take that mantel and wrap it around me. A super Auntie that can try to fill Poppi's shoes....at least a little, as well as I can. If it's an annual trip to spend Halloween with them, I'll do it.  Their lives will grow up so fast, and I 'd like to try and be there for them as much as I can. They have neither their Mimi nor Poppi but they do have Auntie Catherine. Maybe I need a superhero cape or something like that. I write them letters, about what I am doing in school, asking them questions about how their sports are going, or their friendships, and what their favorite classes are. My Kassie writes me often; TJ never does, but that's okay. It's that *I* do it that makes me so happy.

I recently self-published this blog to send to my aunt, the one who gets me and I her. I wonder if it will drag her back to the moments of our greatest pain. I wanted to see it in book form--what could a book of mine look like? It is pretty cool. I recently showed some of my introduction to another writer friend. She said to me, "Oh, you're a memoirist." This never occurred to me. I never write about the history of aprons in County B, or about the history of a building. While I like reading about these things, I could never conjure a scrap of writing to do the subject justice. I need to write for me. About me in the world, and how the world effects me. Some would call that "indulgent' (someone already has); I think of it as writing about something I know. I can't claim to know much, and really, researching the history of a church clock does not move me to write. 

What I have experienced this week is a feeling of calm; it's unusual, but I know I have been taking very good care of myself. No extra nonsense; no things that don't involve me; no interactions with people who aren't good for me. And then the excitement of rehearsing toward a big concert in New York in March. On a whim, I contacted a designer whose work I admire, and asked about an appointment; I'm interested in having a concert dress designed for me for this big concert coming up. Garo Sparo, the designer I contacted (via Facebook, mind you!) he was lovely and excitedly accepted. I've spent the week in email conversations with one of his assistants who gathers information and sets up appointments,  I am beyond words. It is a price I can afford, and it will be made FOR ME. My pianist friend, also joining the Trio in concert, is considering the same thing. Hope she does it.  These good days string out, and I find myself asking to visit my sister on the opening of her bakery and to hang with the kids on Halloween. All of this is wonderful.And then I told a friend my plan, and asked her if she was interested in taking  a girly road trip. She said YES! and she as hotel points for a very nice hotel in NY. Suddenly this trip has taken shape, all through kindness, friendship, and love. I will be wearing a couture gown in March. And my friend will be there at the beginning with me. No one I'd rather be with for this experience.  

This trip has one foot in nostalgia and the other in the future.  I think it's okay. I hope it will be okay. It seems like things feel into place Veeeeeeeeery easily. but I haven't yet made the flight reservations!!!
Wish me well as I take another step forward into My Life.



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