They Have To Sleep Eventually

My dad passed when he was 43. He died suddenly from a stroke in his brain stem. We had zero indicators up to that point that anything was wrong, other than pressure on one side of his head which he thought was an ear infection and was seeing a doctor for later on that day. Later never happened. He was gone before his appointment that day.  As word spread, I distinctly remember everyone saying "He's so young." or "Only forty-three? That's so young!" I also distinctly remember thinking at the time "Yeah, he's young. But he's not that young." At 22 years old, 43 didn't really seem young to me. Even as adults, our parents always seem larger than life, don't they?  For the last 20 years I've said the phrase "My dad died when he was 43." more times than I can count. That age. That milestone. FORTY THREE. It's felt like a black cloud of doom for the last 20 plus years. It's felt like something that would happen to me

 Oof. It's been a minute.  I wish I had a reason for my blogging absence other than the fact that I'm a busy mom with a house that seems to keep adding people and/or animals (for anyone keeping score we're at 8 people, 3 dogs, 2 cats, 3 lizards, and a tortoise).  I was also a healthcare worker that worked all through COVID and then took a promotion which was a whirlwind in and of itself. All in all, the last couple years have been super amazing and so much fun - but also, a realllllllll shit show and a half. Trust me, I have the 30 lb weight gain and an Rx for Prozac to prove it.  I have been getting lots of questions about when I'll start writing again. And I have been writing but I haven't actually published anything. I write because it makes me feel better. And sometimes just writing it out is all I need. I don't feel the need to publish everything. So unless I REALLY feel like it's going to do some good, I've been keeping my ramblings to myself.  Al