Promises, Promises

Early in July, a friend of mine died. I’ve cycled and sobbed and collapsed and got up so many times I’ve lost count.

July was a rough month.

Since I received news of his death, I’ve been all flavors of … kattywampussed. I picked up working on a beading project again that I’d told a friend I’d finish, but never got around to. It had been so long since I’d worked on it, my friend had completely forgotten about it, but now it seems important to finish all the things I’ve started and then put away after a bit.

Fortunately, I only have the one item promised to a friend. Everything else is my own stuff.

Oops. There’s another thing I’d said I’d do for someone else – a handmade hairnet of silk thread. I was a third of the way done when I put it away because I was tired of working on it. This other person has also since forgotten about it.

I guess it’s a good thing I’ve only promised little stuff to people. But the death of my friend has me cringing with guilt over it. I don’t want to leave promises unfulfilled.

It’s taken me almost a month to even begin to consider what that last statement means. Between dealing with the kids, trying to handle my own world-shattering grief, pondering why I’m hurting this much, and having to hear about the twin declines in both my own father and my father-in-law, life has been somewhat frantic.

I don’t want to leave promises unfulfilled.

Did my friend? I imagine he did – he was just 59 and died of a heart-attack. Bang! – you’re done. I imagine he had a number of “I’ll get to it tomorrow’s” on his list.

His death has lent a kind of urgency in my doings. First I have to clear off the table of promises to other people: that beadwork has to get done, as well as the hairnet. Then there are the promises I made to my friend – the things I told him I’d do, the things I told him I’d learn, or start learning or start doing or whatever. Those are more long-term things; One step, one day at a time things. One cannot master archery in one’s backyard in a single day, after all.

There are the projects I’ve started and put aside because I “don’t have time” or because I lost interest or got frustrated with it or what-not – those should at least be cleared away in some fashion or other. The denim dress was a cute idea, but let’s be real and accept that it isn’t going to work. The Russian coat is only a third of the way done with the beadwork (mental note: never make another fantasy-medieval formal EVER AGAIN). My medieval masking research just goes on forever. The stack of books at my bedside to read seem to grow faster than I can knock them out. The various goofy-assed projects I’ve started like sewing a dress or fixing this or building that but never quite got around to finishing all mock me in their labeled totes and baggies.

Don’t forget about the writing – that’s a huge promise to myself I made and I don’t want to be some pissed off shade screeching uselessly at my progeny to write my stories and write them the way I want them, dammit! When I got that tattoo, I promised myself I would be worthy of it. I would tell stories, I would get them out into the world and somehow, people might want to read them.

I don’t want to leave any promises unfulfilled.

It feels like my brain is spinning in a whirlwind of organized chaos. It spins at 90 mph, but for some reason I know there’s a turn here and an increase in elevation there and with a slight twist there’ll be this object in the cyclone that will fit right here but not there.

I don’t want to leave any promises unfulfilled.

What the hell does that mean, anyway?


About kattywampusbooks

A SAHM with delusions of literacy.
This entry was posted in People, Random and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s