25 June 06
Living Room Full of Half-Full Bottles
My mother left today. Left for Maine. We all went up to Mosquito Ridge Road last night to look for owls. Heard spotted, saw-whet and flammulated but saw none of them. We didn’t get home till about 1:30 pm; she’d been up nearly 24 hours.
My brother has put her on the red eye to Boston this evening in Seattle. I am left with a living room full of the things she removed from her house yesterday morning the movers didn’t take but she couldn’t take, either. We have enough laundry detergent for a year.
Her presence will linger here for a few days as she starts this next chapter in her life.
The self portrait I’ve done today and will post here tomorrow has me looking at my reflection in the kitchen window. It’s dark out. I look tired and feel conflicted. I look like a child, I think, in the drawing. It’s sort of how I feel.
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hugs,
But you aren’t, now (later). I love the knuckle next to your nose. (Also, the sketch makes clear that you still don’t know how pretty you are, how appealing to the eye. But you’re getting there. Look through that lens at the earlier ones.)