Now Playing: Sail Away, Sweet Sister by Queen 

I’m supposed to laugh and enjoy myself tonight. 

When we bought these tickets months ago, I said something like, “I know it’s an extravagance, but who knows? We might need a good laugh when the time comes around.”

I meant because of politics.
Because of the slow, relentless dismantling of democracy.
Because of the hate and the cruelty in our country right now that I don’t talk about much, but I feel very much. 

Because sometimes, humor feels like the only thing left that might save us.

What I didn’t know then was how personal that need for laughter would become.
I didn’t know my baby sister would be gone.

I didn’t know I’d be anticipating dressing for a comedy show with a lump in my throat and that hollow, echoing ache in my chest, the one that says, She’s really gone.

Last night was rough. I know it’s been a week now but my god, it’s only been a week.

As I tried to sleep last night, the words began coming, and before I knew it, I had several halting poems written on my phone. Some comforting, some that just made the ache worse. But at least it’s progress, getting the creative words back. 

Cherokee asked me what I wanted as a gift from her last Christmas. We don’t (didn’t, dammit, Drema; note the shift, it will always be past tense now; get used to it) always give one another gifts, but I had ordered her some clothes and she wanted to reciprocate with something. Knowing money was tight for her, knowing she had begun writing poetry, I said “Just write me a poem.” 

Oh reader, she did.

I can’t read it again right now. I can’t share it right now. 

It meant more to me than anything else she could’ve given me. 

This wasn’t supposed to be that post. I wouldn’t blame you if you can’t read it. But I have to get it out, love.

Next topic. Because I cannot…

Remember how I said yesterday that my dress is silver? Silver?? When I went to haul it out of the closet where I put it weeks ago, I realized it’s blue. Of course it is! I remember now. 

It’s blue and I love it.

It’s blue and it fits. (It might be a tiny bit big.)

It’s blue and it’s actually too light for the weather.

It’s blue and I will have to wear a shawl to cover its straps. 

I don’t care. 

It’s the most beautiful blue, sapphire, and it’s pleated and it moves.

And I love it.

As promised, the stadium bag followup.

Walmart’s version (the pink) arrived about half an hour before Amazon’s. So I have two choices! I’m going to wait until closer to time to choose for sure, but since I hate them both (because vinyl), it should be an easy choice. The gold, I think, wins by a slim margin. 

Also, I noticed too late that the bag that my travel toiletries set comes in is about the same as one of these bags, just without a strap. I rolled my eyes. If I had thought of it, I’d have just used it. (Thankfully the bags were only around $10 each and I will use them as supplementary pouches for my computer bag. I wanted some clear pouches anyway. I’m always hunting for my lipstick.) 

Tonight, I will be wearing grief shoes. What I mean is, I’m not even going to pretend to wear something stylish and/or uncomfortable on my feet. 

I will plan to retreat to the lounge if needed midshow. I won’t ask more of myself than I can handle. I won’t ruin anyone else’s good time. 

Friend, I worry that I won’t be a very good date tonight. Poor Barry. 

But I keep showing up.

And that is all we can do, even when we’re feeling gutted.

That’s the bravest move we’ve got.