When There’s No Longer Anything Concrete to Touch – A Diary Entry

Sometimes I come back and delete an entry – like I’m the only one in the world who experiences these sorts of moments and I don’t want to seem odd.  I’ll try not to do that this time.  I’ll just go ahead and post this.  Deep breath…

I will write a poem about this day’s discoveries – or a story or a novel or just more entries. Who knows?

I am reading a lot lately. Ever since I purchased my Kindle Paper Light thing I’d sworn I’d never use in my life. And so, when my vision became so bad – legally blind in one eye – and reading printed books became more and more difficult and the online PC Kindle just didn’t feel like a book…reading, something I used to live to do (right up there with writing) began to drift away from me. I hate audio books (well I shouldn’t say that since I may be sentenced to them one day) because I like to put my own voice into my reading – mine and the writer’s…not some second cousin twice removed voice.

I’ve just finished reading Savage Beauty (biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay) and Drowning Ruth (I guess it was some sort of emotional thriller. It was scary in its possibilities) and I’m almost finished reading Come Back Early Today – a book about lovers going through one of them developing dementia.

My mother suffers from dementia. She had a stroke – shortly after my parents’  home was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. She developed dementia after her stroke and my father felt so very responsible to care for her. Then my father died. Or gave up. It must have been difficult to move – forcefully – from the New Orleans French Quarter to Tennessee. I guess, at their age (75) I would want to give up, too, rather than trying to adapt – again.

Maybe that’s how that book came to my Kindle – Come Back Early Today. Maybe I wanted – at some point – to read a personal account about dementia. Not some medical stupid and impersonal stuff.

I don’t remember a time in my life when I felt a real closeness to my mother. I do remember being an emotional support to her when I became an adult – because I felt sorry for her and angry that society was such that she thought she had to stay married because she was a faithful Catholic and had had five kids and “What was I to do with five children and no husband?”

When we kids were all grown and moved away, she was still bemoaning her life with my father. One evening I had dinner with her and challenged her to leave and be free of it all. She couldn’t leave her ‘things’…which were eventually ripped from her by Mother Nature.

And that’s what I want to write about about Hurricane Katrina – our total inability to determine the moment total loss will/does enter a life and how that moment is received.

Oh well so now – that didn’t hurt much. I’m clearer headed and more hopeful these days. I was right to reduce my anti depressant. I’ve actually been crying sometimes lately. That’s a good feeling – to have a sad feeling now and then. That’s normal …

I’m giving myself lots of slack…and the easier I am on myself, the kinder I feel towards those who occupy my space now and then.


3 thoughts on “When There’s No Longer Anything Concrete to Touch – A Diary Entry

  1. It seemed important – for others as well as myself, Jessie – to share this entry. I’m not certain why I don’t share more and engage more – even here on WordPress. I’m grateful for your continued following of my blog as I readjust my life.

    Liked by 1 person

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