thursday 12 november 2009

Page Thirty-nine

Greenfield

Wandering. If anyone’s  interested in getting a sense of how much I’ve wandered (physically, emotionally, psychologically) over the 20 months since my whole world was taken from me, you’d need to do a little wandering of your own in my other journals. You can click here to page one of the website, where there are links to the other blogs.

And I’m still wandering, but in a much narrower way. I don’t move from town to town anymore, and I don’t pay much attention to the present moment anymore. I wander through the past, because it’s all that holds any magic for me, any of my former self.

With a bit of an exception: Shiloh-Chailin. She’s almost two weeks with me now, almost seven weeks old, and in that short time I have been very sick twice. She’s getting a trial by fire. All of my animals for many years had to learn about mommy and sickness. I am often sick, and it’s usually severe, because of the anomalous immune system I was born with. Well, they learned about mommy and sickness: dogs, cats, birds, rabbits, guinea pigs, they learned. They were instinctively patient and kind when I was sick, and almost always on their best behavior. So little Shiloh-Chailin is learning now too. I have to come into the present moment from time to time for her. It is wonderful having an animal again: living without any was too selfish, too meaningless, too joyless and loveless. But it’s terrible too: after 20 months being animal-less for the first time in my life, and in shock, and frozen, and devastated, she is melting all that frozenness and bringing back the sight and sound and feel of all my other animals, and the things we did together. And that pain, that huge pain over the 14 who were stolen, is coming over me in a flood.

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anne, wandering

Page Thirty-eight

Saturday 7 Nov 2009, Greenfield

Yes, still wandering. A different kind. No longer wandering over towns and cities, living a nightmare, waiting for the feds that Matthew said were protecting me to point me to a home.

Wandering instead over the aftermath of the last 12 “hell years.” I’ve said very little about the years prior to the eviction in 2008, and the loss of everyone I love, but the traumas have flowed in a steady stream and the damage with each passing year has become more profound. What is left — the results of all the damage — is what appears on my on-line journals.

Shiloh-Chailin is with me one week today. I swear she’s nearly twice as big as she was last Saturday, when I got her. I’ve begged her not to grow so fast, to stay so little for a while, to stay in the palm of my hand. But all my begging doesn’t stop the growing.

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a new November

Page Thirty-seven

Mon 2 Nov 2009, Greenfield

PETER    pumpkin-eater, hopping the trail

                    Sunday 1 Nov 1998

LAXA      mother, sprite, wee one; I’m sorry

                    Sunday 2 Nov 2003

2.  Friday 6 November 2009

 CHEWBACCA    snake-catcher, snow valentine

                     Friday 4 November 2005

  MELINDA    feisty, romantic, long time

                    Friday 5 November 2004

3. Monday 9 November 2009

SPOTTY      always content, gentle man

                     Wednesday 9 November 1994

4. Wednesday 18 November 2009

MUGSY arrives   Tuesday 17 November 1998

ROBIN        I’m just a kid again… (I’m sorry)

                     Sunday 19 November 1994

5. Tuesday 24 November 2009

CHLOE       How could I have known

                   25 November 2004

shiloh-chailin

Page Thirty-six

monday 2 november 2009….   greenfield

A few posts behind this one I have one titled When Comes a New October, and just now I have finally finished it. October ended with a new life coming to me on the exact day that another very much loved life had gone. My therapist said to me Friday, “You love fiercely.” It’s only taken him a few months to figure that out, as compared to the fact that the Department of Mental Health never figured it out in a whole year.

The new life is a five-week-old guinea pig called Shiloh-Chailín, bought on Halloween. Chailin is pronounced Haleen, if anyone’s interested, and she is named for two of the nine cats who were stolen from me on 12 March 2008. This I’ve done in memory of you and for love of you, my two stolen girls.

So this small child begins with me living in one bedroom, and not knowing what will happen from day to day, as once again I am renting from a person of bizarre vicissitudes. I was told I could have an animal, but will that still be true tomorrow or the next day? I hope so, because I’m very grateful that the landlady came out with this all on her own: that I could have an animal. I never would have dared to ask for such a thing. But when a person does frequent and extreme changes of mood, I feel I’m always standing on shifting sand. I can’t count on anything.

Having an animal of my own again, after nearly 20 months since my family was stolen, is both wonderful and terrible. I suppose I’ll say more about that in the days to come. Here she be:

the princess at five weeks old

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you can read more about her in the foreword to the book, All My Stars

read…    Stolen stars…   Mugsy’s book

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all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2009-2012 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.