Temporary Yuck

I’ve procrastinated as much as possible this morning…putting off the time I dedicate to being still, hammering away at the keys as it often dredges up deep truths. Annoying, irritating, gritty truths.  I don’t have to count the days to know in my soul it’s that time of year…this time, three years ago, mom took a spiral decline and hours spent bedside simply were not enough. I know it’s that time…I don’t want to admit it, I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to think about it.  Keeping my schedule tightly packed, mind full of distracting thoughts, busy little brain…but still it pulls, rises, tugs and plucks, needing to be acknowledged. I don’t want to identify with sadness…a thousand other daughters have lost their mothers.  My head is satisfied with her loss…she suffered, fought, and I know exactly where she is and that I’ll see her again.  That should bring me enough peace.  I’m neither happy, sad, or mad, but still those emotions rise. I’m flat, un-bubbly, care-less. I prefer bubbly, approachable, chatty, smiley…just not feeling it today.  Or yesterday.  There’s so much to do this time of year, so much cheerful possibility…I’m angry at the process…the temporary yuck.