Am I Okay?

I begin every morning, and end everyday with this question. I ask it of myself, I ask Walt. I ask Ginger, Rudy, and Jamie. Now depending on who I have asked...... You understand eh? Walt always says " You are fine Babe, you are going to be fine". Ginger cocks her head to one side as if to say, I dunno, but I sure do love you lots Ma". Rudy invariably answers with an "ITS OKAY".. every single time. When I ask Jamie, I hear nothing. I feel nothing but pain. Sometimes, a wave of pain that wont let me breathe. After a few minutes of non breathing fear, I choke and Big Sur type tears begin again. Often times in the cold mid night I wake up screaming without vocal chords.... I cant describe it well... I wont tell you the dreams as I cannot. But I must get up to wonder aimlessly looking for something that just isn't there. I have taken to writing ( go figure) in the wee hours when I dance with these demons, on fabric. I have journal-ed what may or not be my thoughts since the day Jamie left us. Left me. Yes me. I feel selfish enough to say it. He LEFT ME. I wasn't done loving him yet! I didn't dance at his wedding. I didn't cuddle, smooch, and love up his blue eyed daughter, who would have looked just like Mamy. There are so many things I feel cheated out of, and he being cheated out of life himself. What you think.. 50 years or more? Robbed of. And for what.... change channel....

Of course I have no idea what I'm doing with this primitive piece of art, however, it does put my mind to pen and fabric so someday it may very well represent my tag line.. "A Stitch In Time Saves My Mind". AGAIN.

I have the first month assembled into a calendar. As I said, its very primitive, but it was....IS... through the fire so to speak. I think that I will continue with it, in hopes that one day he will answer me. Talk to me. Tell me why this had to happen. Tell me where he is, how he is.
Maybe I'll be buried with it. I dunno.... change the channel.

This morning, Rudy said It's Okay. He is singing to the swallows who are coming home this month. I want to sing to. I can't find my voice either.

Here is February Calendar... March is still in strips all over the longarm...some are in nickels on the floor.. tear blotted, smudged and not legible.. ::shaking head::