Monday, June 23, 2008

New life - Phase one

It's been a week since Crystal went on to her next life, or is it back to the cosmic energy hot tub to marinate? Where the hell is she? Her body is in my lawn and though I am happy she is nearby it is also creepy. Maybe I should have cremated her to make it really final. I feel like a bad mom leaving her out there in the rain. I think I am becoming very weird. I have met a whole other side of myself and that side is spooky. "Knock, knock. Who's there? Better Judgment. I'm here to tell you Kris that kitty needs to stay in the ground, you need not pull her out, blow dry her hair and place her in the green cabinet where she used to nap. Stop planning her escape, she is gone." I hate that Better Judgment asshole! I want more LIFE in my house, preferable hers. Too soon. Too fast. Where does the tick tock go? And as I said a few sentences ago, where the hell is she? Has she reincarnated again and if so what now? Purrhaps she will be the first female president of the United States. Since Hillary didn't pull it off it's Crystal's turn, except now her name is Eleanor. I hope her new parents have enough money to send her to Harvard and that she spends time abroad, she needs to be well rounded and learn about other cultures. But she also needs to watch her carbon paw print and travel responsibly. She has a lot to figure out. So do I.

Do we choose what's next? My mom used to tell me that I was sitting on a pillow waiting for the right combo to come together. I chose my mother and father because of all the things they would teach me (good and painful). Well, this was a shrewd thing to tell a kid. When times sucked it was a teaching, something I needed, something I chose in order to know more about the big picture. Seems hard to process this in regards to CanSer and the loss of kitty and yet both have made me stronger, have introduced me to my corners, have made me grow towards the light of my spiritually.

WHATEVER! Too much for a Monday. Sometimes it's fun to chew on this stuff other times it's like mental masturbation (sans the grand finale!) Nevertheless, I have gone a week without her and in that week I have ACCOMPLISHED much. My suffering has lead to ass busting, soul soothing manual labor. I must lift things. I must putter irrationally. Emails, deadlines, and office work can kiss my shrinking ass (grief is the best diet). I have scrubbing, snot/hiccup crying, and SHOPPING to do. My credit cards are swollen. They have chafe marks and blisters. Brian and I have been to Home Depot 500 times.

As I mentioned recently, we rented an office in town in order to separate our home from our work. Though the space is great it needs elbow grease. This makes Brian very happy. He LOVES Home Depot more than boobs. He loves wearing his tool belt on a daily basis. And of course since we moved our work stuff out of our nest I have to make the empty home space just so or I can't function. I normally wouldn't be like this. Death has changed me. I think Brian secretly loves the new me. One, I am more vulnerable, less bossy and angry, softer. Two, the new me appreciates "craftsman" tool expeditions and endless hours searching for the right electrical tape. Normally I would be very impatient around these activities. Now I love them. I am truly interested in drill bits.

Who am I? Where is Kris and what have you done with her feisty personality? For Christ sake I went to a garden center! I bought plants and re-potted them. To me this is like a midlife crisis. This is like really entering adulthood and saying goodbye to my youth. This is grown up and strangely comforting. HELP!

These are my new plants. I named them. They mean the world to me. It's unreasonable. Oh, shit, I get it. They are my first step in letting new life in. I'm not ready for fur (yet - and yes Martha I think 2 or 10 would be best) but I am ready for chlorophyll. If I kill these plants I will unravel and you will need to send a search team out to recover me. So far, so good though. I think they are happy. I think they are talking to each other. In fact, a recent article about plants in The NY Times says that they do talk to each other. Some plants behave differently depending on whether they sense a relative or an intruder nearby. In other words, they have recognition of kin. They politely restrain themselves by growing fewer roots when surrounded by family members, but grow aggressively when sensing another species. They even send shoots to strangle the stalk of the outsider!

How freaky neat is that? I wonder if they talk to me, to Brian, to Crystal. If they do I hope they tell her that I wish she would stop messing around and come home.

Peace and insanity,

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