Entry 7 – December 23, 2024
There is something different about the mornings after a near death experience. As if the sun is brighter, and I’m much more aware of the warmth even when the air is bitter cold.
Ryan asked me to wake up earlier to take walks with him in the morning. It’s hard to explain how much I love this and how much regret I would have had if I didn’t get this chance again. The mornings are frosty this late in the year. My body doesn’t like the cold, but it doesn’t matter, spending this time with him is invaluable. I’ll give up my toes to frostbite if that means I get to walk with him again and again.
In a few short months we will be in a similar situation. Day by day, his heart surgery looms closer and more inevitable. I can imagine the worst possible outcomes, but I have to trust that he’ll be okay. I can’t borrow tomorrow’s worries. Today is the most important day, and I need to make sure to feel that way about every today that comes next.
Feet first, I have a tendency to stare at my boots while walking. At least the ground ahead, if not my boots. The seasons have passed far too quickly, and I feel like I’m stuck in one spot watching the earth tilt. I painted a dead lady covered in moss for my birthday. In a few days I’ll be auctioning it off on my instagram via livestream. It’s a self portrait reminder of how I feel right now. It’s beautiful, but I don’t want to hold onto it. I don’t want to be reminded of this time. Pain does not hold fond memories and I would rather simply live with the lessons, not the bonus prize emotional baggage.
“This is no way to sell a painting, Erica. This is not the way to convince your audience to take you seriously. You must bleed and they must believe you enjoy bleeding for them.” I’m assuming that’s what I’m supposed to tell myself. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I keep having this dream that I’m late for something. I’m wandering around my hometown, as if I’m a ghost. It’s dark and misty. There is no one around but me.
Maybe it’s a memory.
I’ve forgotten a lot of pain. If the world ever gets a chance to read my book, you’ll learn some of the things I remember. There are still memories I uncover from time to time that I had previously looked back on with fondness, only to later realize how tragic they really were.
It makes me miss my siblings.
My own thoughts and musings hit me again when I think of them. Specifically, when I thought about how each of my siblings are different orientations of each other. We all have the same two parents, so the DNA starts out with the same structure. The variation depends on the circumstances of the environment from there. At least, that’s how I envision it. I’m not a scientist and I have no real knowledge of DNA outside of a surface level understanding. It’s not literally true, but I find it fascinating how the configurations can vary so wildly among siblings. Somehow we’re still drawn to one another. No matter how estranged we become.
I’ve walked alone in the snow many times. It doesn’t bother me to be alone. In all honesty, I prefer it to hiding or being quiet to not disturb the contrary. Some days the cold does bite through to my bones, but I’m thankful that Ryan enjoys walking in the cold with me. I’m thankful that I don’t have to walk alone for now.