I am searching for comfort today. Sitting in my sun-filled studio. Cuddled in my softest, warmest socks and shirt. Favourite Christmas music playing. Milky chai tea at my side. Mickey Mouse pencils and loose leaf paper on my studio work table.
Do something I love. Do something that helps me find my way. Write.
Three deaths in my family this past year, and now a fourth coming sometime in the next few days. An uncle, my Dad, and two cousins I grew up with. And then there are the continuous small deaths of my mother deep in Alzheimer’s.
I feel like someone has taken a knife and cut away my childhood.
These people were a loving presence all through my life. There are cherished experiences I shared with them. Now I am the only one who remembers.
Where do memories go when there is no one left to feel the story run through them?
I know I am far from the first or last to feel such grief, I know my entire family is suffering, but this knowing does little to ease how I hurt.
The only way out is through.
Today I will sit in the sun and drink tea, listen to music, and let the memories run through me. A way of loving my cousin and myself and the stories we created together in this life.