Ephemeral Taffeta

I find reminders of her everywhere.

The other day, off of the ocean, there was a great expanse of cumulous clouds, her favorite cloud formation.

Today, Jamie Lee Curtis visited the Criterion Closet, she was one of my mom’s favorite actresses.

It would have been her 70th birthday today.

I met with my therapist, refilled my prescriptions (shoutout to Gabapentin and Lexapro), made a trip to Walmart (one of her favorite stores), and deep-cleaned my bathroom. In between, I dyed my hair a warm, dark brown (with great aplomb) and did a load of laundry.

I’m trying my best not to be sad today, I know she wouldn’t want that for me. I have an excess of chocolate chip cookie mug cakes to soften the blow of the inevitable deluge of melancholia I’m anticipating.

She feels closer than ever today. I know she’s just beyond the veil. She meets me in dreams a lot. The other night, I dreamt I was sitting on a bed with her and Karen Carpenter in a hotel room somewhere. She and Karen Carpenter were asking me to sing, but there was an awful lump in my throat. I think it was last Monday.

Tonight, I’ll make something good to eat for dinner. I’m happy it’s the therapist that comes to visit our apartment today and not some outside meeting. I’m glad I have more than enough cigarettes and vapes on hand. And cheese, as a safety reserve.

I still can’t bring myself to watch Terms of Endearment yet. I haven’t watched it since she died, even though I read the book when I was finishing up treatment at the clinic.