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moving sux part 2 of probably 1395896
Dec. 18th, 2021 01:38 pmMoving stirs up so many feelings.
I don't know what to do with my mom's ashes.
I think it's because she treated me as inept for most of my life, and she disowned me when she got older. Said I was dead to her. Said I was a reincarnation of her mother? We have so many good memories, too, those I cherish and think of often, and when I think of her, it's usually in better times, when she made me feel loved and was supportive. She did so much for her poor inept stupid daughter. But anyway. I don't feel worthy of them? I don't feel right displaying them in my home, like, my apartment is definitely not good enough. It's not a house. It's not where any grown-ups live. I don't even own a bookshelf. (That's how little I read, these days. It's really depressing.)
Maybe I can get a bookshelf next year, once we're settled, for her urn, and maybe it will encourage me to add things to it, as it stands there empty, and maybe I'll start reading, again.
I was an avid reader when I was younger. College changed all of that, by grad school I couldn't stand the process, and I've never really recovered. I keep trying, but I only seem to be able to tolerate self-help material. And the very occasional fantasy novel (only really Rothfuss and Holly Black in the last 20 years.) It's pathetic, really. I'm embarrassed. Tyler reads voraciously. Maybe it's why I'm stupid and he's not. Or is it just a reflection of that fact.
I don't know what to do with my mom's ashes.
I think it's because she treated me as inept for most of my life, and she disowned me when she got older. Said I was dead to her. Said I was a reincarnation of her mother? We have so many good memories, too, those I cherish and think of often, and when I think of her, it's usually in better times, when she made me feel loved and was supportive. She did so much for her poor inept stupid daughter. But anyway. I don't feel worthy of them? I don't feel right displaying them in my home, like, my apartment is definitely not good enough. It's not a house. It's not where any grown-ups live. I don't even own a bookshelf. (That's how little I read, these days. It's really depressing.)
Maybe I can get a bookshelf next year, once we're settled, for her urn, and maybe it will encourage me to add things to it, as it stands there empty, and maybe I'll start reading, again.
I was an avid reader when I was younger. College changed all of that, by grad school I couldn't stand the process, and I've never really recovered. I keep trying, but I only seem to be able to tolerate self-help material. And the very occasional fantasy novel (only really Rothfuss and Holly Black in the last 20 years.) It's pathetic, really. I'm embarrassed. Tyler reads voraciously. Maybe it's why I'm stupid and he's not. Or is it just a reflection of that fact.
