Five Years Gone
Today was the fifth anniversary of my father's passing. Just like that day five years ago, today was my writing session with my writing partner. I didn't get much done, but that's how it goes sometimes. This Atlas of Bone & Sorrow project has a way of suckerpunching me repeatedly while trying to make my way through it. I may need to focus on something else for a little bit, return to it in short spurts here and there so I don't get caught up in my own swamps of despair. After our session, I finished sorting through old boxes I'd pulled from the storage unit I emptied last week. Old photos and letters and report cards and art projects - from myself, my siblings, and even old shit from my mother's youth - have been sitting in my living room for over a week waiting to be sifted through and given some level of importance: keep for later review or toss in the trash. Weird day of marinating in things of the past. Wasn't intending to do so, but here we are.