Reclaiming

not-quite Journaling, 75

 reclaiming
the ways that made me
makes me more

10/20/2024: My Piano Man and I are back at New York Comic Con after five long years. The first two years of absence happened because of surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation… The next three years, I missed it because I got ill (eye infection, Crohn’s and neuropathy flare-ups) the day before the convention. This year, I nearly missed it again because of a new breast cancer scare. At the moment, we’re mostly sure that there is no cancer--more testing needed… In the meantime, I will enjoy loving and living; I will reclaim what I can; I will delight in all the moments the universe gives me. Tomorrow will bring what it will, but today is mine. 

 

10/24/2024: Every once in a while, we learn we’ve trusted someone who didn’t deserve it. Some might think of such discovery as a loss, but I see it as the best of wins. Getting rid of something rotten opens space for better things. Definitely a win. 

– for Poets and Storytellers United (Friday Writings #150: How high the moon?)

October Is Bittersweet

not-quite Journaling, 74

 

10/1/2024: I love October--the colors, the clothes, the food, the spooky decorations, the lore, the tales, the remembrance of the lives of my Dead. I know some people find celebrating the dead with merriment weird (even ghoulish), but I’ve always thought it extra lovely to have a special time of the year when we share stories (sad and happy and funny) about the lives of those we’ve lost to death. It’s one of the best ways to keep them alive (in our hearts). 

 

Love waits--not always
patiently, perhaps; still,
love that has been touched,
love that has been fed,
love that remembers
love... waits.

10/6/2024: During a breast cancer awareness meeting, two individuals were discussing (okay, they were arguing at the top of their lungs about) cancer and true love. One shouted that if the love is true, the partner of a cancer patient would never leave them. The other yelled that if the cancer patient truly loves their partner, then they would understand the partner’s decision to walk away. When they asked a few of us our thoughts on the issue, I said that love is personal and complicated. The disgusted looks on their faces told me they didn’t think much of my opinion. So, I shut my mouth and started this poem bit. I still think that different loves are differently complicated. Selfishly (and unrepentantly), I’m just glad that my own love has been made stronger by my own ordeal. Also, I’m rather relieved that I don’t feel the need to scream at people, when I disagree with their much too loud views--ignoring them (and doing something that soothes me) is way more satisfying.  

 

10/10/2024: There are songs I only listen to in October. There are foods I only eat in October. Songs and foods that were the favorites of loved ones I’ve lost to death. I think of them always, but I only let the memories linger in October… 

– for Poets and Storytellers United (Friday Writings #148: October Is Bittersweet)