Grief and self blame…
I begin at 64 — aching R)hip well sacrum actually, to realise my health needs skilful management. Glasses for eyesight. Calcium supplements for bones.
Huge back pain.
Is it the anguish of locked up chooks used to wandering free? Is this their resentment of me locking them into their smaller pen for the day? Animals have it tough! Like humans who lock themselves into prison like relationships. Love? Or exploitation? Nobody is pure! And lust is a hidden vice.
Having a car or house won’t make a difference but perhaps coffee and pie, 2 bananas 3 different bone and vitamin supplements, seafood and coffee although creating a gigantic shift in budget just might help.
Ten years later it’s three cups of home made coffee frozen dragonfruit cubes and lactose free yoghurt. Food is so comforting. Same aching right hip same recipe.
But this time an epiphany. The right male side that correlates to a longing for a male who has left. My inability at fifteen to save a father from dying. It just sits there inside my hip. A huge ball of childhood reminding me to be gentle. That I was not to blame for his death and all the overwork perfectionism and good deeds in the world will not bring him back.
And that he lives on — like all I have ever loved — within biological memory banks.
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