losingA thought (that comes after writing a letter to one of my grandmas): I have given nice things to my grandma every time I have traveled abroad. When I went to Kuwait, I sent her a knitted lap blanket made from camel wool. When I visited Japan for the first time, I sent her a warm, quilted happi (house) coat.
Recently, my grandma was moved into a "living center". She had been thinning out her possessions for some time; giving things back to people who had given them to her or giving things to people who had always said they liked something. When she was moved, it came to the point where a rummage sale was held to sell the things she wouldn't be keeping with her at the living center. What didn't sell was taken to Civic Council/Goodwill.
The reason she was moved into a living center is because she had fallen and hit her head at home. Because of the fall, she had some blood in her skull - in between the skull and brain. She had emergency surgery to drain the blood and ease pressure on her brain. As a result, she suffered memory loss and had to be on a few medicines for a while until it looked like everything was back to normal.
In September, a few weeks after my birthday, I received a birthday card from my grandma. On the envelope, my aunt (who has helped care for my grandma because she lives closest) had written that grandma had forgotten to send this to me until now. Inside the card was nothing besides her signature. No letter. No note. Not even my name.
I have written her letters about once every two months since my move to Japan. For the first six months, I received coherent letters from her. A month before the fall up until now - there has been no letter. No reply. I begin to wonder if she remembers who I am. Maybe receiving my letters is like receiving letters from a stranger.
So the thought is this: it upsets me to think that the gifts I found in far away lands and gave to my grandma were sold off at a rummage sale to total strangers for a fraction of what they are actually worth, but not because of their monetary worth, but because, like those gifts, she is no longer present. It feels like the bond we once had has been severed. It begins to feel like she is gone before she is really gone.
Labels: deep thoughts, emo, in tribute to nanowrimo, letters, life, random, sad
Dear Self,
In re: J.M. - PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER WOMAN!! If you keep acting like a simpering middle-schooler he'll eventually start to not like you at all and possibly avoid you. All you need is another co-worker that you have to avoid due to awkwardness. Just forget about him (AND his hotness). Pretend he's married, or is gay or is a total pr1ck - anything. Just stop with the lusting, it's getting you nowhere. And your dignity is worth a lot more than one man.
Sincerely,
The Calm and Strong Half
Labels: letters
what might have been lost...0753 hrs:It is super quiet in the office this morning. We're all here, but it's still just quiet - well, except for Tina talking about politics. She's one of those talking trains where once she gets started, she just doesn't stop. You can't even get a word in edgewise. So I've put my ear-buds in and put on some music to drown her out.
This morning at about 5:30am, I had a really strange thought. I had gotten up to put the cat in his carrier (as per usual at that time in the morning) and go to the bathroom before going back to bed. On my way from the bathroom back to bed, I was thinking something really profound (I just know it). It had the word "scientific" in the phrase and that made me think "Do amoebas know they're being watched?" I'm not quite sure where that came from, but now it is the only thing I remember. The other, supposedly more profound, thought is probably lost forever. *sad sigh*
0821 hrs:Oh noes...I'm starting to get really upset. Was just quickly checking the progress of my JET application (which I sent by Priority and Certified Mail) using the tracking tool on the USPS website. According to them, no such tracking number exists. I'm trying to calm myself down because there is nothing I can do about it right this second. I have to wait until work is over for the day and then - THEN - I will go to the post office where I mailed it and make an inquiry. It better not be lost - it better be that it just hasn't been scanned in to their Certified Mail tracking system. I'm not sure what I'll do if they
lost my application. Because violence isn't really an option, I'll have to think of something else...
1010 hrs:Dear J.M.,
I really mean it. You have to stop looking so attractive when you come to work. I get awkward and weird around you when we happen to go to the water cooler at the same time. For instance, today I offered you the cold water before I used it. Why did I do that?
Really. I may have to start avoiding you if you don't start toning it down a bit.
Yours (whenever, where ever),
C.S.
1149 hrs:Don't know what has come over me, but all of a sudden I am feeling very low. Low energy, low spirits, low everything. Except maybe high on apathy. Wish I could take a half-day and go home to snuggle and nap with the pets. A big storm is coming in. Maybe it's the barometric pressure dropping that has sapped my spirit...Maybe it is the fact that it's Thursday, instead of Friday. Ah, well...what can you do?
Not much has come to mind since my last, fervent letter from 10am. I feel like I haven't gotten ANYTHING done today, even though I maybe, sort of have. Some days it just feels like I'm biding time, treading water, running to stand still, etc...
Today's Playlist:
Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago (on repeat - over and over and over)
1747 hrs - ETA:
Before I left work, I tried tracking my certified mail again and turns out they just didn't scan it here. It was scanned in at the destination city, so now all I'm waiting on is for it to show delivered to the recipient. Yay! This greatly cheered me up. I feel like I might be changing back to human from my alien, she-bitch form.
Labels: half-asleep, JET program, letters, playlists, work
Dear J.M.
Please stop looking so good while at work. When I nearly tripped and fell while trying to move around some equipment on the floor, I felt my face flush. You're "steady now" was too smexy. I just can't take it, so please try to be less attractive in the future. Otherwise, these strange fantasies involving closets may only get worse.
Yours,
C.S.
Labels: letters