Bedtime

I wonder whether posting in the morning would be better than posting at night. Yesterday, I was thinking about how, much like when I'm sick, I wake up in the morning and feel like things are okay. The house is quiet. And my bed is like comfortable armor. But then I get up, brush my teeth, take a shower, and something lingers. And then it's there, in my face. But these moments, awake, in bed ...

Sure, there's denial in there. But we need a little denial to help face the day.

Yesterday was largely ... well, I'm trying really hard not to measure things in terms of bad and good anymore. It's impossible ... right now anyway. But I wonder if would be just a little bit easier to deal with my mom's illness if we didn't have to measure everything in terms of bad and good? It just becomes so painful when you have a little bit of hope, or maybe normalcy, and then you get it ripped away from you. But I don't know how else to do it right now.

But yesterday was largely good. My aunt and I went grocery shopping at a persian market that serves fresh-made gelato. And my mom was good throughout the day. But so good that she pushed herself to the point of exhaustion. We know better, now, what to do ... and what not to do. Hopefully. Hopefully.

Keep the good thoughts coming. This armor is warm and soft.

Which makes me think ... when I was in India, I noticed this habit that families and friends have of all amassing on someone's bed (the beds in India are HUGE) during the afternoon (or, really, whenever there was free time and everyone was around) and gossiping, chatting, laughing, etc. I like that idea very much right now. Party in Mita's bed! Umm ... I mean ...