I have not been blogging too much this past week or so. There are times this urge to spill my soul out waxes and wanes. I guess this has been one of them.
I feel like I have so many things about my life that I want to change and improve, and I know that I still suffer from a considerable amount of survivor's guilt, enough to paralyze me. But I have come to a conscious conclusion that regardless of my grief and desire for it to be different, life is moving on. I have visited the LUSH store out at Northpark and bought some stinky stuff with a gift card that Stewart gave me for Christmas along with some wonderful exfoliants and henna for my hair. I am now a sassy auburn-headed wench whose hair smells of jasmine and whose skin is scented with something called "Karma", which I love but which seems to overwhelm Joe in its intensity. I'll have to find a way to tone it down a bit. It makes me feel girlie and feminine, which then makes me want to eat like a girl and get some exercise, and makes it easier for me to look up from my feet and actually make friends with people or at the very least smile...something I find increasingly I avoid doing.
So in that vein, today I put on this pair of red pants that I have. Now, mind you, those of you who know me in person know that there is frankly no way on this planet to miss my ass, whether it is coming or going. This heart shaped, wriggling monstrosity earns me plenty of admiration and consternation alike, and to adorn it with red pants, no matter how well fitting, feels like sticking a big sign on my butt that says "Just in case you missed it...." But as I finished up getting ready for work, I got an admiring gaze from my beloved and a very nice compliment, so I kept them on and went about my merry, yet somewhat insecure way. I got another admiring gaze from another gentleman later in the day when I was brave enough to make eye contact and smile at him, so I have a little strut to my step now and I am feeling pretty sassy. I got my hair cut last night and am very happy with it as well. I feel more stylish today than I have in a while and that feels good. I just have to keep reminding myself, in the words of a good friend, that most men prefer an older, curvy, well put together woman over a skinny skanked out mess. Not that I care too much about most men, but more just about how I feel in general. And I do like to look nice for Joe. We won't talk about the skinny well put together women. No. We shall not.
School was a tad rough today. We talked about leukemia. It was relatively brief compared to the rest of the lecture, yet for a moment as the instructor discussed the fact that at which points in the cell maturation cycle leukemia forms determines the prognosis for the disease I thought I might actually have to leave the room and throw up, cry or just...I don't know. Leave. I got through it, but it does surprise me that hearing that his type of cancer was one of the most deadly forms of leukemia again still hits me as if I never heard it before. Even though he is dead and that journey and battle is over for us, it still surprises and frightens me. He will never stop being my baby.
Things are shifting into high gear for the race on Saturday. We have raised over $3000 so far. I am still hoping the last minute donations will come in and maybe we will reach our $5000 goal. People continue to say they want to walk with us and we have 37 team members as of today. This whole thing took on a life of its own. I thought maybe a couple of family members would do it with us and that it'd be a small thing, that maybe we'd raise a couple hundred dollars. So I am thrilled to see so many wanting to remember Joseph and wanting to help. It does my heart some good.