May…again

May 2018 was spent suspecting the worst, summoning protection through blood work tithes for IT to be anything but ALS (begging for cancer like it was a lottery ticket), marinating in constant, maxed out anxiety for someone to pull the trigger on the words that would push us into a fringe existence that so few but way too many (more than none) understand.

May 2021 he was as sick as a human can get and still be alive. I was a shell of a wife, mother, circus freak rock star demolition expert raging activist resident lunatic. We had been gestating death together for so long that we had lost the algorithm of life. Not a soul in the wings could get close enough to whisper the next lines in our ears. The end.

May 2023 I have been watching my current storylines weave into my past for a few days now. I’m trying to catch the threads and send them home to the spindle, but my success rate today is abysmal. The forecast right now feels like any given day in that three year stretch between Mays…hazy with an absolute chance of nothing ever being normal again.

There’s always tomorrow for pulling out memories in the sun. Today the light is cast over — my irreverent lauds, vespers, and matins murmured above the shadowless ground.