14,668

The phone calls have diminished and the emails are down to normal levels. The people who were there all around me have gone back to their lives and that is how it should be, but it sure is quiet. I read some things today and went through some old photos and paced the floor a bit. I never went outside but I looked out there a few times through the windows and intended to find a place to go but never did. Tomorrow is already here at 3am and I will get outside and get some fresh air today as I have a few things I need to go do. I'll go get a pink rose and visit the cemetery and have some conversation with God and mom and maybe take a long drive and listen to some music and maybe get the car washed. 

I've never been very comfortable being surrounded by people even the people I care about because finding conversation and sharing experiences have always felt like a lot of work for me and therefore not genuine. But during the first couple of weeks after mom left this earth it was sort of nice in an unfamiliar way to have a few people around. Most of them are now back to living their own lives and I'm here to endure mine.

Some of those people were too persistent although caring, and clearly don't know me or what I need the way they think they do while others checked in from time to time without being pushy and a couple still do. I'm still here and still trying to find who I am now and looking for ways to avoid feeling that perhaps there is no longer a place for me anymore. I went through all that sort of thing when I was a kid and I never thought I'd feel that way when I got to be an old man. I'm certain I'm not alone in feeling alone. My conversations are no longer spoken aloud they are left to the written word that has taken its rightful place among all the very many who go unheard.

Isolation is its own torture chamber and its own reward but it's absolutely a choice one makes and I most assuredly have made that choice for myself. No one hears your anguish and you get to avoid that loathsome feeling that everyone you know and see ends up feeling sorry for you and your pain.

About a year or so ago I went through and deleted all of the content previously on this blog because of a feeling that life as I knew it was ending and it has and I didn't want to be reminded and now I miss it. The strange thing I notice is that this blog page was begun when I had learned of my father's death in California one day many years ago. We didn't really know each other having only met a couple of times but years later I began to wonder who my half brothers and sisters might be and where my father was buried. Those bits of info are not going to be known by me as I've done the research and come up with almost nothing. But that is what got me thinking I wish he had had a blog or some writings of some sort that I could look back on and get a read on who he was. And so this page was born in case someone one day might want to know who I was when I was alive and all this might give them some insight they wouldn't be able to know any other way. But almost every time I write I doubt that thesis more and more although 14,668 times someone has come to this page for reasons I would have no clue about.
       
These are the conversations that I have with myself and every one of them should probably be kept private but then I could eventually forget how to speak entirely if I were to just go into hiding and stop communicating altogether which I will probably do one day.

There are two people in this world who I hope will maybe want to know something about me and stumble on this blog. Maybe they will want to know how it felt to lose a mother who meant so much to my life in order to learn to make the most out of the time they have left with their own moms before it's too late. Those people and my need to have someplace to go to purge the thoughts that still fill my mind is what this page is for and there is no other reason.