Lake Alone Four

Spencer was restless all night. He never stays up. He loves going to bed. He had
a fresh blanket and everything. But instead something was harassing him in the
dark. He barked though the night. So unlike him. I thought it must be a deer or
raccoon.

By mid morning of day three he had treed the offensive beast, having never seen
it myself I feel it must have been a feral cat. He strutted around satisfied that
he had shown the beast who was boss. That's right Spencer, you can enjoy your
bed tonight...

It was windy, Oklahoma again. I chose to bead and watch another movie on the
iPad. Once. Oh so good. So very good. Watch it.

Now I sit in my beloved rocker, having some water and recounting here by
writing. It's 11:15 and I have to leave the cabin by 2:30.

These indulgent quiet days have brought my mother close to me.

I keep seeing
images of her and hearing her voice.

It's difficult to live without her. Such an interesting time in my life as my
own daughter makes her way. It is necessary for her to stop hearing my voice and
hear her own, or at least make her own louder than mine. And I miss her. And I
want her to need me. And I want her not to need me. And I need to live my own
life and not hear my mother's voice above my own.

It's a wonderful time of freedom in my life. The problem is that this freedom comes
only through loss. Maybe that's the way freedom always comes.

 

My story must
continue. It can no longer be defined by my mother or the love and service for
my daughter. There is an buoyancy to these days, and also a dizzying untethered
fear.

So I rest and keep busy and rest again. Order will come. For Allie too as she
treads in the days of her own life. And mother, wherever her soul is. Whenever
and whatever that looks like.

And I type. And listen to the leaves and see Spencer beside me and my future in
front of me.