I talk to myself when I process, I really do.  Talking focuses my thoughts.

I talk to my Mom and Dad sometimes, but they Are So very gone now, it's saddening to think most my family is buried.  It's been a really hard decade.  First my Grandparents, Then Uncle Roy and Aunt Ede, then Aunt Eleanor, then Her sister Jean, And my Mom and Dad, too.  We would visit them in the nursing home, and I didn't like going, Now I Know!  OMG, Now that I'm living alone, All I have are bukus pictures.

Some are pictures in my head, and printed, or on my hard disk, and their tombstones.  And if you think about it this A New Low in a New World Order.  It's like my imagination, has always been active, and sometimes I long to hug them, and then I just do, because they'll always be in my heart.  I don't know if the remembering is what keeps them alive, or pain sweat and tears, we shared.

And then God took my Dad, and it opened every wound of my Mom's death...  I might be a little crazy now, because sometimes I can see them close or feel a warm touch.  I'm one of their few scions.  Makes me cry in pain, literally.  I think my back pain is psychosomatic.  They say it's a sign of depression, I believe it.  But it's kinda spooky. (it was a pinched nerve in my neck).

I was on the phone with my big Sis, and she ended the call in saying I was in pain, and she repeated it, and I just hungup on her because I'd already said goodbye.  And, I wasn't, lonely and bored certainly... Until soon after.. that call

Last Winter was the worst, this Spring the best.  I got started working, and when days lengthened.. and like a Bear, Spring woke from slumber and roused me.  I don't know why or how, but I keep falling in that hole.  Or at least twice now.