Making sense

Anne Lamott, on writing ...

"We are a species that needs and wants to understand who we are. Sheep lice do not seem to share this longing, which is one reason why they write so little. But we do. We have so much we want to say and figure out.”

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Necessary procrastination ...

Needlework. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll awaken bright and early tomorrow and head over to a craft store and buy one of those punch kits and make something clever/cute for my kitchen. What a hooker I am I'll think as I punchpunchpunch the hook into the canvas, bright embroidery thread trailing.
Perhaps I'll head over to Border's and get lost in magazines or new fiction titles. Started reading THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA last time I was there -- even got halfway through Hemingway's tiny tome -- this time I'll finish the piece.
Could always go to the Kansas City Zoo, I suppose. Haven't been there since my own kids were small, what? ten years now? Lace up the comfort walkers and slather on the sunscreen. Maybe even wear one of those uber-ugly fanny packs. Who knows what lurks in the gift shops. Might need a polar bear keychain.
There's always grocery shopping, which I need to do, but I'm certain to see something that will remind me of him: bananas, coffee, tapioca pudding, crunchy-on-the-outside-soft-on-the-inside bread rolls, Little Debbie's, icecreamicecreamicecream (no matter the flavor, just make it cold and creamy), Hershey's bars at the checkout. Better not head to Price Chopper. Groceries can wait another day.
I just have to find some activity to keep me busy ... some non-Dad activity that will occupy my thoughts so I won't be crying all day missing my dad.
Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of my dad's death.
Maybe I'll just skip the day altogether and stay in bed.

2 comments:

Bee said...

Oh, this really tugged at my heart.

I always feel, though (and I hope this doesn't sound insensitive or impertinent) -- that "missing" someone at least indicates that there was closeness in your relationship.

Your Dad must have had a sweet tooth!

Kate said...

Yes, my father's sweet tooth was immense and never fully sated! Each night, after supper, he would sit down with a half gallon of ice cream. (Cherry vanilla his favorite.) Although he wouldn't finish the container, he'd at least get halfway through.
Amazingly, he never had a weight problem ... .