October 22, 2013
Yesterday, my mom got an email about a sale at the yarn shop in Battle Creek. And the weather was dreary and rainy. And we only ever go to Battle Creek when the weather is bad. Seriously. I’m not making this up. It’s not as though we look at the weather forecast and then plan our trips to Battle Creek. No, we plan to go to Battle Creek and then don’t change our minds even if there’s a blizzard.
Anyway, there was a sale at the yarn shop, and my mom was looking for yarn for Felicity’s Christmas present. (She has the yarn for Emily’s already… For that matter, check the comments. She may have written the whole saga of knitting for Felicity there…) And I was feeling like we should do something. I don’t know what. I didn’t know what then, and I still don’t know now. But I felt the need to do. So we went to Battle Creek.
My mom spent no money. I, on the other hand, did. But I didn’t buy yarn. We also stopped at Horrock’s. And the reason I like to go to Horrock’s on a dreary day? The flowers. They have bouquets of small roses for $10. I always buy some for myself when we’re there. (That glow that you see while you’re reading this? That would be my great-aunt Elizabeth smiling because I don’t think of flowers as a luxury item. She never let me leave her florist shop empty handed. Sometimes she even let me pay.)
My peach roses are in a vase on my dining table. That’s right. At my apartment. Last night my mom had knitters’ guild. She dropped me off and then came back after guild was over. I spent the evening alone at my place.
Now, I’ve been alone since Sofia died. But that’s always been at my parents’ house. Last night, I was alone at my own home. And it was okay. I sang in the shower without crying (much). I watched a little Hulu without crying (much – that might have been easier if I’d opted for something other than Law & Order: SVU. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Guilty pleasure. Usually.). But mostly it felt kind of normal. I’m still not ready to deal with her room. I’ve been in it a couple of times, but it’s still too much. But I’m getting there. Slowly. But I’m getting there.