Personal Journal

Untitled

Well hell.
Previous journal entry was eaten, I’ll rewrite it tomorrow.

I can’t begin to express how strange it is to have my mom here and now gone again. But that’s what that journal entry was about anyway.
What price serenity, anyway, that’s where I was headed.
I wonder if I know what brings my life peace, and if I do, as I suspect, why I let things interrupt the conditions that foster it in me. Why do I choose to be around people if I seem at my best when I’m alone. Why do I let my mother come visit when I know I will be nothing but fucking relieved when she is gone? I guess guilt on that one. Compromise on the other. A word that to me still means what Holden Caulfield meant he said “phoney”.
I do enjoy these times alone. And I realize that aside from Jean’s cancer, there are a lot of things that I do enjoy about this life. I just seem to under-appreciate my need for this kind of time. One reason that I feel like I must is because of Jean’s cancer. She needs time with me, and I her, because there is probably a limit on how much opportunity we have to spend it.
I’m getting better about remembering that. I’m getting better at appreciating her presence and feel very attached to her. There was a time when I was wondering if I was capable of such feelings because they were interrupted so fairly regularly and easily.


It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn