One of the big guy's images.  Pyramid Lake, Jasper.

We're heading there Sunday, except the lake will be frozen and covered in snow.  Today I am still in my pyjamas which feels rather decadent.  I ate cookies and bacon for breakfast and homemade spring rolls for lunch.  I had a good, rather long cry because my family was not together for Christmas and because my youngest daughter is still handicapped and doesn't understand that it's Christmas, or care for that matter.  And the big guy held me while I cried. 

I am one of those people for whom reality seldom meets my expectations.  I even have a little stone block on my bookshelf which says, "Happiness is wanting what you have.", and still I resist.

Right now the sunshine is streaming through the windows.  There is a hockey game on the TV and the big guy is gently snoring on the couch.  The cat is sitting beside the humidifier, staring intently at it, waiting for it to gurgle.  I get to spend everyday with the man I love.  I am blessed and still I feel unsatisfied.  It is getting better, but ever so slowly.  I try and fail.  Try again.  The mountains help.  When we're in the mountains I slow down and accept what is. 

Miss Katie's roommate had a meltdown last weekend and put her head through the wall, or maybe her foot, I'm not really sure.  Katie had a sympathy meltdown of her own because when Angie gets upset, Katie gets upset.  Katie has a permanent lump now on her forehead from banging her head against the wall or the floor.  She also has another lump on her hand because when she's upset, she bangs her hand against her teeth. 

I can't stop any of these behaviors.  I've tried and tried but they continue.  And now that Katie no longer lives at home I have very little day to day contact with her.  I see her once a week.  We go bowling.  We have lunch.  There is a lot of talking and a lot of signing and then she goes home. 

Katie is very well cared for.  Her caregivers are truly wonderful people who have the patience of saints but I don't know how her live goes.  I don't get to tuck her in to bed at night.  I can't make sure she has a poop everyday.  I can't make sure her teeth are brushed properly every day.  I do cook for her but I don't get to sit with her after her bath and have her lay her head in my lap while she eats popcorn.  I miss that.  I don't miss the constant vigilance required to care for her though.  Nor do I miss the feeling of being in prison. 

So Katie living away from me, for five years now, brings feelings of ambivalence.  I wish I was the kind of person who could care for her every day but I know I'm not.  I cared for her for many years and now I can't.  But I do miss brushing her hair and tucking her into bed.