I spent Presidents day alternately procrastinating by cleaning my house and writing.
I know I've mentioned that I'm working on a new book. This one isn't fiction, it's about my mother and the rest of the female side of the family. Sometimes the work flows and other times I find myself surrounded and overwhelmed by emotions. Which leads to my husband peering at me from the safety of his computer desk in the corner to see if I'm really ok.
And sometimes that's debatable as I wipe my eyes and I keep typing. According to my best-est Bud, "this book isn't just a book it's a twelve step program."
It's been ten years since my mother passed away and I'm just now coming to terms with that loss. I know it's been ten years, but the truth is I live in a completely different country. And so much has happened since then that I've managed to take a huge distant step away from her death.
And while I've stopped crying at random moments in the day or at a Five for Fighting's superman. I haven't really dealt with all of my grief.
So I've take a huge step. Well, really a half step, but I chickened out on making the phone call I wanted to make. This weekend I will screw up my courage and take up the phone and hope that I can make myself understood, without sounding like a blubbering idiot.