Thursday, November 21, 2013

Every Holiday I mourn or maybe recreate the past and the hole that is a part of me.
It was dug by days of heavy drinking parents and relatives and also parents that didn’t drink but lived the life anyway.  I was a child in those days. Looking out from my body and watching their pain wanting to fix it for them. That was what I did as a kid. As a teenager
my pain was directed more at self hatred of myself and the world for giving me this life.
Now it’s coming again the holidays and all that it was and trying to make it my own today. Even in the drinking days there was still love. Searching for this love in the madness. Today my hatred has softened but I still search for the connection of family. Not having to make their pain my own is a struggle.
Turning turning it all over as I walk the highway of death. Buddhists like to meditate on death. Just for today I am alive in this second.

Meeting up with other like minded humans tonight

Sunday, November 3, 2013


Floating blue dress

Went to visit several Day of the Dead altars. A couple of them stood out and brought up memories from my past. One was in tribute to an African American dressmaker. The altar was composed of a beautiful blue dress floating from the ceiling with patterns from her past projects creating the background. I remember sewing with my mother and grandmother. We had a large jar filled with buttons from my great grandmother. I would play for hours with these simple pieces. Our times sewing were often quiet and engaging a rarity in our Alcoholic home.
 It is ok today to bring up some of the past as long as I don't get caught in the sadness and pain.
Alanon has given so much to me. I am grateful for my life today.
One day at a time.