beginnings. and endings.

today was as good a day as any to die, i suppose.

::

a good friend's mom suffered a brain aneurysm. another close friend has a brother in a coma, brain swelling, body broken. my daughter started kindergarten and when she exited the class on the first day, she was sobbing hysterically, her eyes wide and arms overrun with a too large backpack, unzipped and spilling its contents. i felt a pound of flesh detach itself and land on the grass, subcutaneous fat butchered and jagged. these transitions, they sometimes exact a toll.

::

i outgrew my old writing space, i think. or it outgrew me. regardless, i would find myself there, fingers wanting to write and yet i couldn't do it. it didn't feel like me anymore. perhaps this is just a nod to the days when i would buy a new journal after a major period of transition in my life. a way to mark the occasion.


::


i haven't spoken to him in ten years. not since that email on my thirtieth birthday where i cried like i was twelve and emailed him back to ask him politely to never contact me again. he didn't. so there is that. he died today. at least that is what facebook tells me. (a sleuthing of sorts reveals an online death certificate so it seems to be true.) and i don't know how to feel about this. now that the day is here, i mean. even though he was sort of dead to me in a very metaphorical sense. i suppose i should feel free. or angry. happy. relieved. confused. mostly i feel deflated. the same way i feel on the fourth of july or new year's eve. like the anticipation was for something so much greater. the actual event is a sort of non-committal act of passive resistance. i feel like i should feel more than i do.

::

my son turned two today. so i suppose more than a good day to die, it is a good to celebrate being alive.

::

i wish my step-father peace. since he never seemed to have it here.