I thought nothing could stop me. Although new to coding and frustrated looking for a job in a city that is saturated with developers of all levels. Because I find great joy in learning, trying, retrying, crying, and solving, I thought nothing would really stop me from coding every day, especially while I’m on a coding tutorial binge. I mean, I love this! I stay up too late to do it. The only thing I regret is not having enough time for spinning (wool) and making things out of glue and cigar boxes.
I thought I would have days of crying, but I had only one. What followed were days filled with sighs, deep breaths, and lethargy. I slept a lot. I slept while sleeping and while awake if that paradox works for you. I felt like I was running through syrup. While in this fugue, I did nothing with my mind. I brought books, my laptop, plans for apps; I was prepared to take a break from grief with coding. It didn’t happen.
No matter how much I obsess about hashtags and tweeting what I’ve done, I was not prepared for this. It’s been a few weeks now. Her service is this weekend, and I will read Gone From My Sight by Henry van Dyke. M is not diminished. She is just not here, and now I’m starting over. Who said it, the Benedictines? Always, we begin again. I’m not a spiritual person, but as an adult who fights ADHD daily, I see this less as a gentle rule from monks as a daily huddle cheer. Along with not being spiritual, I’m also not a football fan, so I’m just mixing all the metaphors without any clue. M was both spiritual and a rabid Cowboys fan. She’d appreciate my attempt at footballery. I’m not where I was before with the amount of time dedicated to coding (improving, learning, reinforcing), but I’m upright with my laptop tap tap tippety tapping because always I begin again.
Good-bye, M. You were loved. You are missed.