I Don’t Remember Exactly

Dear Diary,

It’s late – or perhaps early – depending on how you regard hours.  I’ve been doing my usual reading of diaries as I waited for the cake to come out of the oven.  Baking at an odd hour, I know, but I wanted to have the cake ready to take to Brenda’s right after church later today.  Brenda’s mother died on Saturday.  I’m not sure on details but I do know that her mom has been failing health for some time and required care 24/7 in her home. 

My thoughts are “all over the place” (once I decided to write this entry), triggered by my thoughts of Brenda and her Tim.  They are good people – real good – in fact.  She a school counselor and he a teacher/coach and both my friends for life.  He came to the funeral home when my daddy died in February 1999.  He was one of the four staff members who showed up that evening (out of a 100); hugged me and said, “…Boy, he sure does look sharp in that red tie…”.  Tim knew just the words to say.

It was during the weeks and months surrounding  my daddy’s death that I found OD the very first time.  One of the first diaries I read was Delta Woman who was mourning the death of her husband.  It was strange that I found comfort for my own grief through her words.  Even stranger was that when I decided to start my own diary, my first entries were about my son, R***,  who was critically injured in a car accident (in ’97) and had recovered by this time.  But I was still dealing with my own emotions and issues over that some two years later.  At the time, I think I wanted to put those thoughts into words so I would never ever forget them (like there’s even a chance of that happening). 

I had R*** to deal with here; and my dad and the circumstances surrounding his illness and death – and yet it was a struggle to find the words.  Comfort came from reading – not only Delta Woman – but so many others.  I didn’t leave notes. The few comments I made I shared in an email to that diarist alone.  The words I did find were lost when I got too involved in reading.

When did I actually come here? Was it the during the weeks preceeding or following his death? 

I know it doesn’t really matter that…

…I don’t remember exactly.

~Susie