Here comes the cold

The sound of wind howling scares me. It's hard to rest. It's hard to discount it. I suppose because our home was destroyed by a tornado when I was 3 years old, doesn't help. Wind sounds unpredictable. I don't like that. I guess the opposite of wind, would be the sound of waves crashing a beach. That, to me, sounds certain. Wind scares me.

It's almost 1 in the morning. I am sitting here in my pajamas, writing. Kids are fast asleep. I'll need to buy coats for them. They tried on coats tonight to see if they'll work for tomorrow. They won't, really. My coat will fit, I suppose. I wish I cared more if it did.

Cat went to vet; she had tangled with another cat and had a bite. Got that taken care of, $80 later. Worked hard today; I want so much for things to succeed. Wow, what an experience that would be: success! What would success look like? I know what it would sound like: waves crashing a beach.

The wind has howled through many years with me. I'm so ready for it to stop. Moaning and howling.... losing my sister, Ann, coming out of the mastectomy, viewing my mom's body, kissing Gordon's forehead, cold and stiff.... oh, I am so ready for waves. I always imagined, meeting my sister, Ann, on a beach somewhere. She would run towards me, calling out my name, 'Ro-sie! Ro-sie!' I'd run towards her and we'd hold one another and never let go. Oh, I miss her so much. It's been a long time since I've said that. She was a wave crashing the beach for me.

I feel so so far away from her. I loved her so much, that she told me she loved me, so much. I loved her, so much. And, I understand now, her pain, her fatigue, battling her illness. I 'see' her, when I left her in Austin, alseep in her bed. She didn't have the energy to walk me to the door. And, I couldn't bear the thought of kissing her goodbye. Oh, I'd give anything to see her and hold her. She was such a good big sister.

I learned so much from her. She taught me how to tweeze my eyebrows. She taught me how to dance the twist. She mothered me when mom was out of it; she laughed at my jokes, clapped at my accomplishments.... she was a rock for me, when things were so uncertain. I loved her so much. I miss her so much.

Sometimes, when I stop and look at what has happened, I am overwhelmed. How can I be so heartless to keep on walking, and not stop? I fill my hours with duties: taking kids to school, paying bills, answering phone calls, meeting with parents, working hard to keep the center going, offering encouragement, saying please and thank you.... pleasant, pleasant, pleasant. No time for misery because, misery would swallow me whole. Can't stop now.

But, I stopped tonight, and felt it. The loneliness, the sadness. I feel it, and it sounds like the wind blowing and howling. Chimes, tangled up in a knot, clanging against the patio wall.... so lonesome.

Oh, I so hope that the kids don't feel this feeling. If I could be granted one wish, it would be that: God, protect them from this wind howling. Offer them miles of surf and the frothy cold sea, subsiding from soft sand..... I don't want them afraid and lonesome. Can Gordon offer them hope? Can he offer them, from above, some kind of hope? I never want them to think, 'well, dad did it, so it must not be too bad'. Would they think that? Only if I romanticize it. Only if I shield them from the sound of wind howling through these holidays without him. If I censure them from the feelings of loss, am I approving of what happened?

I need to sleep. Long day tomorrow. Holidays coming. House needs cleaning. I need to be 'on'. But, boy, am I off.

I wish I could feel the surf..... I'd run to you, Ann. I miss you so much.