10/1/16
This sucks. It sucks too much to dwell on. I want to be like a river letting the thoughts, dark, morbid thoughts, burble up and then pass through -flowing downstream and leaving as little a mark as possible. Why do I even want to write any of this down? By putting my thoughts in print I make them permanent. I will forever have record of the sadness of this time. I barely want to acknowledge what's happening so why would I want anyone to read the thoughts I barely want to think? Maybe I'm writing because I've always felt better by the act of sharing. Maybe it’s the actress in me seeking attention or maybe it’s my belief that the more you talk about your problems, the more you find people who can relate and in that sharing of experience, you feel less alone. Maybe one of Talia's lasting legacies will be this act of drawing me closer to all of the people in my life. A friend's mother recently said to me "you're not alone in this". And I knew her to be right. In fact, I've never felt less alone. The act of stay at home mothering is sometimes a solitary and lonely experience, a tight knit unit of mother and kids-need and fulfillment on both sides but this moment, where Talia gives little back, is too one sided to keep to myself.