I think I figured out why I've had writer's laryngitis for the last few months. I stopped drinking coffee in April. Yea, I know...sounds impossible. I just got to the point where I felt like it was making me feel worse each day instead of perking me up. So I switched to tea, and now, pretty much the only thing I drink is water. And let's face it, water doesn't exactly give you a brain buzz late at night like the coffee beans do.
Other than that, the only reason I can of as to why I stopped writing for so long was that this year has been weird. I feel as though I grew older in a short amount of time. Somewhere between losing my Grandma, being overwhelmed with school,being accepted to the nursing program, watching my mom go between sickness and worse sickness, having a crazy emotional roller-coaster ride in June, and trying like crazy to decide what to do after finishing the nursing program, I seriously have lost the ability to write the way I used to.
I think losing my grandma had a lot to do with it. When I boarded the plane from WA to ABQ after she died, I left part of my youth behind me forever. I still think of her every single day. 99% of the time, I forget she is gone and I catch myself thinking "I need to call her", or "Grandma would love those flowers, or that book, or this drive, or that ice cream" etc. It still doesn't seem possible that she left us and went away. I dreamed of her a few weeks ago...she was standing tall and strong, graceful and lithe. Her skin was smooth and her eyes were bright and full of laughter, and as she looked at me, she said "everything is ok...I'm happy." I know she is, but I miss her so, so much. If she was still here, she and I would be sharing a room, the way we did every summer. We'd be up late talking while sharing a midnight snack right now, just like we were at this time last summer. She'd be wearing her silk nightgown and we'd be laying in our beds in my room, talking about anything and everything. She'd be commenting on how nice the breeze felt as it came into my window. I can still hear her voice in my mind, still see her there rummaging through her suitcase for a recipe or scripture verse she had written down on the back of a bank statement envelope.
Back in May, my parents and I went to the garden department at Lowe's to find some new plants for the yard. Mom and I had the idea of planting a memory rose for Grandma, since those were her favorite flowers. There were a bunch of smaller white and pink roses, but nothing looked like her. Then I saw a large red rose hanging in the air over me head, and I swear...I could feel her there with me. That flower reminded me so vividly of my Grandma, I burst into tears right there on that aisle while surrounded by 500 other people.
I haven't been able to write for a long time because that silly, retarded part of me has just felt dead. I want to find it again though...but for a while, these posts will probably be pretty serious, if not just different from what I normally write.
