in which my entire life changes

Been a while, eh?
A lot has happened.
As you might imagine.
But it has all happened within the past few days.

Turns out, I'm not as good a student as I've always thought I was.
I blame my mother.
She always told me I was a good student. I wasn't.
In grade school I was more interested in other things.
I did well in art class. My high school art teacher told me I was the only student to develop their own personal style. It was reminiscent of Edvard Munch, he said.
I liked band, too, and did well there, though I never practiced my instrument enough to excel. The excuse was that I couldn't take it home (I played mallet percussion) but really that wouldn't have mattered. I wasn't a practicer.
I aced most tests but I almost never did my homework.

I learned to do homework in college.

And now I'm back in college - grad school - which is why I haven't been here on the blog much. My brain has been filled with nuances of American History (those Pinkertons - whew!) and teasing out the valid data from an uninvolved psychology professor. It hasn't left much room for contemplation.

I still thought I was a good student until my Mom mailed me my old report cards. I don't know why she did that, but she did. Maybe she was cleaning out the attic. Anyway, now I remember all the "She could do better" and "doesn't turn in homework" comments.

And lately I've been leaning more toward creating (anything really) than writing reports.
It made me seriously reconsider grad school.

Something else has been happening. It's been in the works a good long time.

It's big:
I got my disability rating from the VA.

This changes everything. EVERY. THING.

I have medical care for life now.
Medical care for life.

And I have a retirement now.

I have a retirement.

I mean, holy shit.

I hadn't even realized I was concerned about that until the concern was resolved. Suddenly, I can do things with my life that don't involve a struggle. There will still be struggles. Like getting out of bed in the morning - that rating ain't for nothing, after all - but there will be at least some things that won't be a struggle.

I can stop trying to fit my broke ass into some sort of corporate-leads-to-retirement-income position and just fucking live.

...I don't even know what that would look like.

I have to think about this. 

bits of death, as remembrances

death writes
in tears
that dry

death remembers
with hands
that take

~

Every morning, I see the bones of Naanaa.
I have no picture of him,
not anymore,
but his purr still rumbles
and his paws still steal silent -
and acrobat dancing on heartstrings,
singing his joy in requiem.

~

When my soul wanders away again,
and night comes to take my vision,
I'll wait for daylight in your dreams.

Light my candle, dear,
and I'll wonder through your thoughts;
hold close my photos, dear,
and I'll see you in my eyes.

Someday you'll wander with me again,
when night falls on your vision -
we'll wait for daylight, you and me,
dreaming in the darkness.

~

To Naanaa,
whose bones still watch over me,
my sentinel kitty,
the hunter whose death still haunts me:
I see you
today and every day,
and I love you.

~
This post brought to you by witches in fiction 2015: death rites and remembrances.

rocks

What do you do when the rock that holds you above the water

only has room for you? 

Sorry child, you're all grown up - 

no room on the rock.

But look, I can reach out - 

I can throw small rocks

your way.

Build your own castle with them.

Just not here.

You can't stand here.

---

Written for the imaginary garden with real toads.
This has been a Flash Fiction 55.