My Mother said the first thing I do when upset is write. She learnt to give me space. It’s kinda funny, during the pandemic as anxiety runs wild under my skin, she would open my door and throw chocolates on my bed and wait until I emerged from my room.
Even while very sad, as I write I find the need to correct my thinking. That, Auriol, is a lie you are choosing to believe. You are not alone. Whether it’s my mind or some spirit guide speaking who knows, but there it is. That voice, my voice trying to lure me back to some kind of lighter place.
Breathe. Listen to the wind, wait for the sun, enjoy the cold weather. Look at the birds as they sing and glide in the air. Simply being.
I envy people who have small kids. It’s the easiest thing in the world pouring all your love into them. Making music, telling stories, building giant forts and fending off imaginary monsters while eating chocolate. Or pretending the worm crossing the vast cold stone floor is really a terrorist (or freedom fighter) on the run from the law…who deserves a song to be sung as it flees into the great unknown.
I miss my daughter.
A few years ago she said something that I only understood this year. ‘Mother, my life is a set of merging triceratops’. Now what the sweet general fuck does that mean, I wondered for years!? She was having an ego death, she says. So I bought her a huge, no giant tricetop fluffy toy. There. That should fend off any dark thing, I thought. She named it Meep and promises to drag it around with her everywhere. Remember, she is…21!
Perhaps that’s what I should do. Perhaps I should write stories to keep me safe instead. Seeing that I can’t write music because of this grief business. And maybe I should call her and hear what mad thoughts are causing riot in her life.
Some people are magic, a small world unto themselves. I wonder if she knows that this is how I always viewed her. Perhaps I should call and remind her of the music she can’t always hear.
Be the source of what you think you don’t have. That is what I need to keep reminding myself of. Today especially. Now it’s time to make food that will make my Mother happy and hear my daughter laugh.