Saturday, June 12

Reading short stories this morning. All of them are about love, and none of them are happy. There is just the moment. If I cut my hair short it won’t hang down over my breasts in the moonlight. One ends with horses, another with going away.

Thursday was for parents and Friday for grandparents. Today is for me and I must dress well. There will be disappointments, there always are. I would like to unwrap hours and give them to people to spend with me. I would like a quiet day. My mind and body are tired.

I will be happy with women I know who love me. I will be grateful for the help and gifts they give. I will write thank-you notes. I will mean it. But I will be wanting to be quiet with somebody- the baby in my belly or a warm body in my bed.

Tomorrow is pomp and circumstance. Sit in the stands, be together. James and Samantha on the field for different reasons, a lei for Sam and one for my father’s grave. Collapsing I’m sure by the end of the day to do the work I should be doing now.

This next week quieter than the one before it, Simon gone and others resting. If I could fill in some of the time the same way. I will get my hair cut. I am not sure how. Noah’s haircut is wonderful and he looks so much like I looked at 5. But it is short and might not do.

Into the tub now and to get ready. My toenails are chipped and should be painted but I can barely reach them. I have a birthday outfit to wear if it fits me and a smile to paint on. I should be prepared.

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