tearful mornings. (abridged.)

maybe i should book a massage or something. i'm so tired of hurting. sorta stuck right now. i don't know how to move forward into this day. is it a snow faery day or a running/baking/taxes day? I will let myself decide in 15 minutes, and go from there.

...

i love my little life. but i still wake up and crumble into tears, most mornings. what is it about washing dishes and cooking josh's breakfast in the morning that makes all of mom's sad moments flood back into my mind. she fought through dementia so hard. she did everything she could to make it okay. she sang through all of the trauma and difficulty. she was so heroic and brave and determined to be okay. she insisted on walking until she couldn't, anymore. she appreciated every beautiful moment. i wish i could have done more for her. i wish i could have dedicated my life to taking care of her. i wish i had done that, a lot of me wishes i had done that. she would have lived longer, and in less distress.

one of the worst things was seeing nurses and doctors yelling at her. they assumed because she was elderly and unresponsive that she was hard of hearing. but she had perfect hearing. like me. that never faded. i would sadly reiterate, over and over, "she can hear you just fine. her hearing is perfect. she just doesn't understand."

Tristesse to be turned to Joye

Was weeping so hard this morning, off an on. I ran around half the day with faint second-day mascara streaks under my eyes, totally unaware how obvious it was that i'd been crying this morning, sigh. I didn't see it until I got out of the car to go for a run this afternoon. I ran in the park I grew up in, that my mom always took all her daycare kids to every day, where I purchased a memorial legacy bench for her. It still has yet to be installed, and I'm loosely hoping to have a celebration of life dedication ceremony for it in June, on her birthday.

I was crying over mom, again. And I could feel her rolling her eyes at me as I ran 6 laps around the park. We were never a family who did things like running, and thought it was pretty strange and not appropriate for a park. She was so judgmental of others. I was always so afraid of everyone, as a young person. she made them all out to be such monsters. it took a lot to unlearn that. But there was so much she gave me that was wonderful. Cherished, irreplaceable gifts. Gifts i'm so desperate to pass on and share, my love for them is so deep in my veins and bones and spirit and breath, but i have no younger generation to share them with. i try, with friends, but they have their own traditions and don't really care about mine, or just find them mildly amusing. it's okay, I will keep doing all of it. even if it's just for me, in memory of my mom and dad, and the joy and love they brought into my young existence.

I had such a strong craving for cake when I got home tonight that I decided to bake some. aerodrome1 had kindly shared a recipe from Anne Louise Avery's Fox, a Tristesse to be turned to Joye cake, made with oranges and almonds and saffron. I know how tasty my orange almond shortbread cookies were, so I whipped up a little single serving size of the cake as close to the recipe as I could get.

The saffron really makes this cake. It's such a unique and bright flavor. So happy-making. I couldn't find my small sifter so used a teaball to dust it with icing sugar.

So yummy! Yay cake for dinner, lol.

the small flowered teacup is from desultorie, the wolf mug is from a beloved wolf sanctuary in Washington State called Wolf Haven, in honor of Old Wolf; this wolf's name is Shadow.