Ha-Ha, stinking Google Chrome. I finally figured out how to get back in to my blogger and see everything like it's supposed to be. TAKE THAT!
So, instead of doing any blogging lately, I've been doing a good bit more reading than I used to. So much so that it took center stage on Mother's day which delivered the usual dose of surprising recognition to "who I really am" that the Hubs seems to ration out at just the right time, every time. I got a Nook, and I love it. The only problem now, is which of the 543,436,4567,913,482 books at my fingertips do I want to read. Much to my dismay... the Bible wasn't free. Oh well, got it anyways.
So, I'm reading the second book, "I Suck At Girls" that Halpern wrote after "Shit My Dad Says". He writes in a way that tickles me and literally makes me lol every other page. Before that, I was sticking to books about spirituality (not to be confused with religion) and, well, death, to put it bluntly. Yeah, I needed a good book to squeeze out a few tears that didn't tug at my emotions so dauntingly.
Carly is still on my mind every day. I dream of her. I wish for her. I love her. I miss her.
It's beginning to feel as though she has an almost tangible presence in my life as I try to be more conscious of letting the love I have for her manifest in my every day actions, rather than keeping it close for fear of letting something I have for her go. It's so hard to let go. Now, it's hard to let go of specific things. I still have some of the most favorite dresses of hers hanging in my wardrobe. I have the fluffy dress in there and I open the door pretty often just to take a look at it and make sure it's still there. I have the heirloom dress my mother made 5 years ago, meant to be worn and passed from generations to come, still hanging front and center in my own closet. They're both in the same place I put them last May, and I see no reason to ever move them.
I guess these are some of the ways I'm starting to fill out that previously empty glove I came home from the hospital with. I think they call it a "new normal". I remember reading or hearing this phrase so many times after she died. While I could logically understand the phrase, it's definition and personal impact was beyond my comprehension until recently. I remember back to last year, and being a little scared but mostly apprehensive at what my new normal might be. What weird habit might I pick up? Would my new normal being anything close to normal at all? Truth is, it's not so bad. At least not as bad as I my worst-case-scenario type imaginary predictions had me bracing for. You know, stuff like I might start keeping with too many cats, or have to count the spoons in the drawer every night before bed. Or worse... I could have ended up with a housecleaning obsession! I find it always helps to make it terrifying in my mind, and then the reality is easier to accept... as long as I keep the courage to explore the reality though.
I haven't had the courage to completely slip all my fingers into the glove and wear it with full authority. But at least it is a glove that I get to put on at my own pace. It's not as if my hand won't work work without it, ya know. Baby steps... or should I say one finger at a time! Carly knows what I mean...
-Carly's Mommy
So, instead of doing any blogging lately, I've been doing a good bit more reading than I used to. So much so that it took center stage on Mother's day which delivered the usual dose of surprising recognition to "who I really am" that the Hubs seems to ration out at just the right time, every time. I got a Nook, and I love it. The only problem now, is which of the 543,436,4567,913,482 books at my fingertips do I want to read. Much to my dismay... the Bible wasn't free. Oh well, got it anyways.
So, I'm reading the second book, "I Suck At Girls" that Halpern wrote after "Shit My Dad Says". He writes in a way that tickles me and literally makes me lol every other page. Before that, I was sticking to books about spirituality (not to be confused with religion) and, well, death, to put it bluntly. Yeah, I needed a good book to squeeze out a few tears that didn't tug at my emotions so dauntingly.
Carly is still on my mind every day. I dream of her. I wish for her. I love her. I miss her.
It's beginning to feel as though she has an almost tangible presence in my life as I try to be more conscious of letting the love I have for her manifest in my every day actions, rather than keeping it close for fear of letting something I have for her go. It's so hard to let go. Now, it's hard to let go of specific things. I still have some of the most favorite dresses of hers hanging in my wardrobe. I have the fluffy dress in there and I open the door pretty often just to take a look at it and make sure it's still there. I have the heirloom dress my mother made 5 years ago, meant to be worn and passed from generations to come, still hanging front and center in my own closet. They're both in the same place I put them last May, and I see no reason to ever move them.
I guess these are some of the ways I'm starting to fill out that previously empty glove I came home from the hospital with. I think they call it a "new normal". I remember reading or hearing this phrase so many times after she died. While I could logically understand the phrase, it's definition and personal impact was beyond my comprehension until recently. I remember back to last year, and being a little scared but mostly apprehensive at what my new normal might be. What weird habit might I pick up? Would my new normal being anything close to normal at all? Truth is, it's not so bad. At least not as bad as I my worst-case-scenario type imaginary predictions had me bracing for. You know, stuff like I might start keeping with too many cats, or have to count the spoons in the drawer every night before bed. Or worse... I could have ended up with a housecleaning obsession! I find it always helps to make it terrifying in my mind, and then the reality is easier to accept... as long as I keep the courage to explore the reality though.
I haven't had the courage to completely slip all my fingers into the glove and wear it with full authority. But at least it is a glove that I get to put on at my own pace. It's not as if my hand won't work work without it, ya know. Baby steps... or should I say one finger at a time! Carly knows what I mean...
-Carly's Mommy
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