23 October 2014

The Places Where You Were

Hiya Dad,

            Well, four months have passed.  Dad, I guess we've come a long way ~ I'm out and about a lot more, Johnny's doing well in Germany, Aly's perking along like the trouper she's always been, Mom's move is done, other things are slowly getting back to normal, I guess.  Honestly, what the Hell does that phrase even mean?  What is "getting back to normal"?  Is normal this "Robot Alys" who doesn't sleep (yep, still) and tries so hard to "keep on the sunny side" for Mom?  I told her yesterday that I know we have to get to the point where we don't see each other every day, because we need to get back to "normal," right?  She's moved, she's happier there, but I don't know if she's really okay through every long damn day.  It isn't easy to get back to normal ~ and I'm not sure what normal is anymore.

            Is normal feeling like plastic when I'm in public, like my face and my words are some plastic doll's face and words?  If that's normal, then I'm there.  Is normal feeling like a shell of myself when I'm alone, like there is a great emptiness within that all the sunshine and beauty in the world cannot even begin to fill?  If that's normal, then I'm good.  Is normal feeling like my heart's caved in when I see the emptiness of all the places where you were ~ the chairs you sat in, the rooms you walked through, the roads you ran on, the projects we worked on side by side ~ all those places are there in my mind's eye, but you are missing from them and I feel your loss sharply.  Is the sharpness of loss normal?  If it is, then I'm whole. 

Love,

Alys