Tag: free-fall

Forty-five days ago my father died.

Shortly thereafter, the following advice magically appeared in my inbox: “Free-fall into what’s happening.”

I didn’t want to do that.

I’ve been afraid to think or digest or write or talk or feel. Luckily, I haven’t had time to do so.

I could fill today, too–with my stupid, endless lists and obligations–but for once, I put wallow on the list.

I’ve tucked my box of grief into a corner and left it to fester, to rot, to multiply and mutate. it’s time to bring it out in the daylight and examine its contents.

My plan:

• Write.
• Drink lots of decaf and eat something lovely and chocolate.
• Listen to beautiful, sad music.
• Make something I like.
• Go for a walk. Sit in a tree.
• Watch a Very Sad Movie. Bring lots of tissues.
• See what happens.

But first, let me move the car. Parking tickets are not therapeutic.