Catching my Breath

My chest is tight, the air caught stuck in my lungs, I cannot breathe more in nor can I let that small amount out. I'm dreaming of whales, oceans, friends long gone, and kitchens. I've looked them up, in the dream books, searching for meanings within the madness. I know the answer, I know their origins. I don't need a book to tell me the sea of emotions that I swim in this month. What I do need, is a break. A pause. A time out. A freeze button. Where I can sit in this space, the borrowed time of year, this season, that I held my daughter and just be in those moments again.


I can function, I am functioning, I am fine. But I am not fine. I just want some time....why does the earth keep spinning year after year when I just want it to stop? For a moment. For one moment. For that moment.


I will be ok. And I write that mostly for you because I already KNOW that I will be ok. I've done this for three years now and I know that to grieve IS ok. This is only grief.


I just want a break.


That's all.


One more week and it will be 33 days since Ruthie Lou's birthday. And it's crazy to think while my life was on hold three years ago, when I stared aimlessly out of a fourth story hospital window for 21 days and then in the miracle that they call George Mark for the following 12 days, it is still mind blowing that everyone else's life continued while mine forever fell apart. 33 days felt so long then. 33 days flew by too quickly then. And 33 days is still not long enough now.


I will be ok. 


Until then, I am here. 


I am in this moment. 


Trying to catch my breath.

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