Spring made a brief appearance in Nashville, then proceeded to try to wash us down the Cumberland before exiting somewhere mid-May and letting summer in early. We skipped June and July and proceeded straight to August - or at least the heat would lead you to believe it. Time passes in such a blur. My youngest turned twenty, my nephew turned one, and it's been a year since Momma passed away. I try not to dwell on it, honestly. But some days are harder than others. Mother's Day was hard. Her birthday was hard - even my birthday was a little tough to get through, considering that all I could seem to think about was that last year I spent my birthday in a funeral home. I think she would be laughing at me now, though, if she were here, as I try to tend to my mini-garden on the deck. Last year I got one lonely tomato from my two tomato plants; this year, I have enough green beans to almost be worth cooking up, but the tomatoes don't look promising at all. I think I'll go home and pick them, throw them in a pot of water, and add a piece of bacon for seasoning, just for her.
I've never been good with expressing emotions. I always felt that emotions were a sign of weakness - part of being raised as my father's "son", I suppose. Lately I'm having a hard time bottling up those things that bubble up when people start flinging arrows and stones. Some I deserve. Others, less so. Innocent comments get taken out of context and used to further some cause. I make a genuine post about an overwhelming feeling I have, and someone turns it into an accusation, based on some sort of internet statistic that proves I've posted in response to something else. Frankly, I don't see the connection. I get angry more often than I used to, but I often feel like I've been kicked in the gut too. I'm not accustomed to that one. It usually brings tears. Intended kindnesses are perceived as attempts to control. And this post will be labeled as an attempt to send someone on a guilt trip - but hey - if the shoe fits, baby, wear it out.
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