When everyone depends on me, which is something I don’t always do.
When the rental car breaks down on the way to the mortuary
When the lawyer explains all that could go wrong
When the priest goes on far too long
When the streets of California are praying for Noah’s Ark
And when no one, absolutely no one will give a new home to my dead sister’s cat
I would like to remember to breathe.
I just got home an hour ago and nothing seems real. It is as if we had been off in another country. A very Catholic country.
Coming home, I remember that I need to remember to breathe but I am not doing it yet. That is breathing in some kind of conscious way that I am aware of myself and my surroundings.
I am in a kind of a trauma limbo instead. My mind is telling me that I need to remember to breathe, but that is not yet connected to my heart which is still in a rental car somewhere in a very Catholic county, where there is always a drunk in-law at the wake.
The little house is just warming up. It was 52 degrees in here when we got home. There is red wine and I apparently get to live here for a while before I have to return to Cathlandia. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll remember how to breathe. Maybe. We’ll see. Right now, the house is just about warm enough, the wine glass is nearly empty and I’m sitting at my favorite table across from my favorite person and there aren’t any priests around.
It’s a start.
— DanielSouthGate
When the rental car breaks down on the way to the mortuary
When the lawyer explains all that could go wrong
When the priest goes on far too long
When the streets of California are praying for Noah’s Ark
And when no one, absolutely no one will give a new home to my dead sister’s cat
I would like to remember to breathe.
I just got home an hour ago and nothing seems real. It is as if we had been off in another country. A very Catholic country.
Coming home, I remember that I need to remember to breathe but I am not doing it yet. That is breathing in some kind of conscious way that I am aware of myself and my surroundings.
I am in a kind of a trauma limbo instead. My mind is telling me that I need to remember to breathe, but that is not yet connected to my heart which is still in a rental car somewhere in a very Catholic county, where there is always a drunk in-law at the wake.
The little house is just warming up. It was 52 degrees in here when we got home. There is red wine and I apparently get to live here for a while before I have to return to Cathlandia. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll remember how to breathe. Maybe. We’ll see. Right now, the house is just about warm enough, the wine glass is nearly empty and I’m sitting at my favorite table across from my favorite person and there aren’t any priests around.
It’s a start.
— DanielSouthGate
As I was reading your post, I got the mindfulness alert on my watch. I often ignore it, but I selected the 1 minute breathe activity and focused on breathing in and breathing out for one minute. I try to breathe deeply into the far reaches of my lungs and exhale completely. Thanks for reminding me to breathe even as you are struggling.
ReplyDeleteOh, I felt some tension leaving at the last paragraph and was happy for you. It's a good thing our bodies DO remember to breathe. They do! And maybe sometimes they even do it meditation-style and don't let us know! (Macoff)
ReplyDeleteyour writing is so evocative - so many memories surface.
ReplyDeleteI feel the most important job we have is to be human - - I mean why did we come here as a human, after all? Grief is definitely a human ExPeRieNcE - - part of that is forgetting to breathe and finding solace wherever you can! You're being such a good human, imho. But I felt great relief at the end. Whew.
ReplyDelete