I stopped posting my writing a long time ago. It was discouraged for many years because it was painted as a selfish indulgence. Now it’s encouraged because I feel good when I write. And maybe love is letting people be just what they want to beThe door always must be left unlockedTo love when circumstance… Continue reading Narrative Mostly-Freewriting #2
When I first started this job, I used to take the bus. I wanted to reward myself at the end of each day and make the commute home more enjoyable. So, I walked down to my local dispensary and got myself edibles. Rice krispie treat in my case. (It can tolerate being cut into 6+… Continue reading Narrative Mostly-Freewriting #1
It’s rare that I leave the house after sunrise on a weekday. Most weekdays are spent waiting as long as possible to get out of bed, then stumbling into clothes and a bathroom routine. Gather my things, grab lunch and a Soylent from the kitchen, and head out the door. If I’m up to it… Continue reading Narrative Essay #1: December, 2019
This year, the world lost one remarkable woman and two wonderful, brilliant, talented, and funny men to what Gilda Radner called “The most unfunny thing in the world, cancer.” It’s been 30 years since we lost Gilda Radner. I often wonder if the drugs she took to try to have a baby was the catalyst… Continue reading Three That Left in ’19
I’ve written before about some issues I had related to painkillers, sense memory, and survivor’s guilt. Here’s a little more: How does a widow process whatever emotion’s being pinged by some lower back pain brought on due to her spending a chunk of Saturday working on wiring while sitting on the ground? Like this I… Continue reading Pain as a Sense Memory Trigger
Over the summer, my Sweetie and I were out with friends of his. While driving, we were parked behind a car that had a sticker of The Beach Boys album Pet Sounds. I perked up, as I love that album. I remarked that it was known for being a great album and it helped inspire… Continue reading I love Pet Sounds, but I Can’t Listen To It
I broke my right arm and dislocated my wrist seven months ago, on my birthday. I had to have surgery to set it. I found that pain is a very big sense memory trigger for me. In the ER, when I was told I was going to get morphine, I suddenly wished for the ability… Continue reading Ugh, Sense Memory
Delia Vasquez Felix was a complicated woman. Most of her shortcomings stemmed from her upbringing. It was not an environment conducive to intellectual or emotional growth. She didn’t have an opportunity to develop things like self-esteem and critical thinking skills. This absence of a good foundation shaped the rest of her life. I think she… Continue reading Good-bye, Grandma Delia V. Felix
Kevin, It’s been 4 years and 4 days since you died. I’ve come quite a long way in that time. I’ve grown as a person and I’m happy with my life. Much of what you said was true–I’ve received tons of support and help, and I do not miss caretaking. I kept my promise and… Continue reading A Patently Open Letter to my Dead Husband