Dirt
I always cry when awards shows get to the “In Memoriam” part.
Like tonight’s Emmys. Where I was quite moved by one Jellyroll.
I woke up today
I almost stayed in bed
Had the devil on my back
And voices in my head
Some days, it ain’t all bad
Some days, it all gets worse
Some days, I swear I’m better off
Layin’ in that dirt.
Ran myself ragged again today. Had one errand to run (I couldn’t find my favorite chocolate peanut butter beer from Epcot locally) so I went to North Miami and made a day of it.
Just as I was taking my exit, the skies opened up.
I was grateful that I wouldn’t be driving in the rain.
But then I saw two abandoned shopping carts filled with someone’s (or someones’) entire life possessions, and my heart broke.
I like to think my angels are watching me and making sure I’m safe and happy. Where were their angels?
When I came home, I saw the street cats. They still perk up when they hear my car.
I haven’t fed them in five months now. I still feel like shit every day about it. I love them and hope someone loves on them.
Kind of like I hoped someone loves on those people whose carts (and probably whose bodies) were getting soaked.
I finally accept that I wanted to give up on the street cats.
Everyone knows (because I told them) I was just at my wits’ end and not sleeping and ready to murder Butterface and Latin Bitch Boy.
Which is true. But now they know my Momma was dying and I was BEYOND my wits’ end.
I mean, I should have returned to the routine. But … I don’t wanna. I still hate my neighbors.
And now I have this fun problem of having no strength or motivation.
Mom lost her dad when she was newly 50. The irony is not lost on me.
I used to get so mad at her that she grieved for the next 17 years. Like, you came to live with me. Now, LIVE.
Hindsight being what it is, grief takes everything out of you. Your ability to feel good. Mentally or physically. I have never hurt so much and not just my heart.
Losing her daddy was Mom’s downfall. What if it’s mine?
Anyway I know it’s wrong to look at the people with the carts or the sad, skinny little cats and hope someone else is kind to them.
But, I’m not asking anyone to be kind to me. I helped in my better seasons. And I hope I will again.
Could someone, anyone step in and be the angel that is clearly missing in these and a billion other scenarios until I figure out how to get my shit back together to do my part again?