May 8th, 2016

blackhat

(no subject)

I am feeling an odd grief. I just repacked some boxes that had all sorts of mementos from my childhood into graduate school. Random rocks, a tub of shells, letters from friends long dropped (the depression of graduate school created a rift in time). Diaries and diaries and gardening and weather journals.

I'm not sure why there's grief. Guilt is washing through, too, i suspect: i have all this STUFF. What am i going to do, reconstruct my life?

--== ∞ ==--

Reading letters to me, i recognize something similar yet different from the LJ community. There's a subtle quality of receiving something written to yourself, and i know i have not engaged that way for ages. Something blocks me from replies, a stress of sorts, should i reply to this or that or the long long list....

I wonder if i can change that with this move.

--== ∞ ==--

Worship is over at the Meeting house. I'm heading over to attend Meeting for Business.

Christine is very frustrated with the house buying process: i'm so glad it's almost over. We've not yet seen what we need to sign by proxy on Tuesday. I do expect our lawyer to get us the papers, but Christine doesn't think that's going to happen.

[I then spent time reading up on the closing process in NC. Maybe we have everything we need already, except titles and deeds?]

blackhat

(no subject)

Bing's homepage art today [Sunday] -- an adorable photo of mama sealion and pup -- is a nod to the day without making it any more difficult for those for whom contemplation of motherhood brings grief or pain. I am thankful my maternal relationship has healed so over these past five ... eight? years. It took much work but i have such calm clear feelings when i think of my mother now....

I do wonder whether any of the sense of grief i felt earlier today had to do with my mother's betrayal in reading my journal and attempting to blackmail me with it while i was in high school. I had been thinking about bringing the journals out from the closet corner, where i had to disassemble the shelves to get at them, and into the shelves in our living room. Suddenly the thought of unsupervised family members in proximity to my journals came to mind -- and that is certainly out of the question.