I’m lost amongst the dust bunnies and feel like a puzzle piece far from home. Just an outcast on the outskirts waiting for an invite.
When I like something, I like it. Meyer’s dish soap, Compassion Flower. Ten of them will land on my front porch within the week.
For all I can’t do with my one in 7.753 billionths of a life, I sure as hell can buy dish soap that’s good for planet earth, as vetted by a friend.
Tonight’s a night I’m incredibly grateful to be alive. The neighbor’s music is loud enough for two houses, and their 90’s down-home country keeps my foot busy and my mind filled with memories of growing up.
The almond bars with powdered sugar topping I made are a hit with the 6-year-old neighbor girl Carson, my daughter, and myself. “This is so good I want another.” She says with an entire bar still resting in her hand.
She is so dang cute with her newly growing in permanent front teeth and long blond hair. Her ocean-blue eyes dance from Evelyn to me, reflecting a child-like wonder, but she still can’t get female pronouns right, “Look, hers likes it too!”
I sleep unbelievably snuggly and cocoon-like on a memory foam topper. And yet night after night, my head and dreams are met by the sharp edge of this plain, no topping mattress.
Somehow, somewhere I must have convinced myself it wasn’t that big of a deal. Well, I’m here to say it is!
It must have been that extra almond bar that’s got my tummy feeling like it’s tossing around at sea.
Tomorrow’s Memorial Day, and Dave, Evelyn, and I will meet my Dad at the cemetery to visit my Mom’s gravesite first thing in the morning.
I want to close my eyes and see if that helps my stomach. I’ll see you here tomorrow.
Have a good night. Love, Jaclynn