Little Pin Pricks

April 24, 2010
Saturday, 10:52 A.M.
Home

For the first time in two months, I am sitting in my own place after my English 101 class. There was no after class call to Carol Ann to tell her I'm on my way, no 7-11 stop to fill up the coffee cup for the drive to Malverne, no orange Powerade to buy, no wondering if I will be able to get my friend outside in the sunshine. Last week I left class and was still on my way to her; to bid her the last goodbye. This morning, I am missing that routine, I am missing her, and I am using my blog to fill the void for the moment. I have been remiss for the last couple of weeks. Even my spirit hasn't been willing. My mind consistently reminded me, even badgered me to keep up with this assignment, but my heart just couldn't get me off the couch to fulfill my obligation. But here I am again, plodding through another entry and trying to figure out how I am going to make up the ones I have missed.

Sharing Carol Ann's final path in this life was an amazing experience. Being by her side as she took the steps toward the unknown was a gift beyond all measure. I will be forever grateful to the powers that be that she knew she was loved and not alone in this world; that she would be missed and her moving on would leave a void in the hearts of others. I am finding difficulty in accepting that she is no longer physically reachable. The reminders keep coming to me in little pin pricks teasing my brain when I am least expecting them. Maybe they are triggered by a sight or a smell or a memory no matter how unrelated to Carol Ann they may seem. So many pricks over the last week and a half when I believed my thoughts were totally occupied elsewhere, sharply invaded my thought space; her empty house, her orphaned cats, her abandoned car, her idle treadmill, her dark resting place, her cluttered e-mail, her silent home, her ownerless things, her smile, her inflections, her quirks, her songs, her expressions. What will I do with my Saturdays? She was proud of me for going to school. She read my first paper with Professor Kinsley's remarks and said, "You told me the professor said you were a good writer. You were wrong, she said you are a terrific writer." That was when she told me she was proud of me both for school and for another project I had once been involved in. It's nice to have someone in your life who is proud of you and lets you know it. I will miss knowing...