When you are married to a gorgeous long-haired musician, you spend part of your weekend going to his gigs, and the rest of your weekend sweeping his hairs off your floors.
I'm kidding! To be fair, I shed an awful lot too. Between the two of us, the dog, and the cat, we can make a real mess, and a big chunk of our weekends are devoted to chores. But I am grateful to have this family to clean up after.
And I had a wonderful weekend. I'm glad, because I've been working so diligently to create happiness. I have a happy life, but it's a shame how sadness can take such a sinister hold anyway. You can do so many things, like yoga, or a keep gratitude journal, only to have your own mind and memories sabotage you anyway.
I really hoped our move would help me get over Porter, and the awful way we found him But the past month has actually been one of the hardest, and now I am experiencing flashbacks.
I used to think a flashback was like a memory. But now I know that it can be much worse. You can get trapped, reliving a horrific memory that's so vivid and real, it's as though it's really happening to you. You're there. It's so real that you find yourself desperately hoping it turns out differently this time -- and believing it actually might. And when it doesn't, you get to suffer the trauma all over again.
So what can I do? Just keep trying to let happiness in, I guess. This weekend I did that by loving Billy, and going to see him sing anf play guitar, and by working on our house. I hung artwork and cleaned and organized and focused on filling our home with comfort and love.
And I will keep doing that, for all of us.
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