“where is my mind; where is my mind; where is my mind; way out in the water; see it swimming…” –Pixies
My mind is constantly racing, but my motivation level is Zero. I feel like when Beatrix Kiddo wakes up in Kill Bill vol. 1 and says to herself “wiggle your big toe…”
I have to coach myself through the simplest things and my brain is mush. Example: today I hung a clock. I went upstairs to get my screw gun and realized I hadn’t made the bed. I did that and decided I want coffee. Go downstairs. Remember the clock and realize screw gun is still upstairs. Go back up, get screw gun, forget momentarily why I need it…. finally I hang the clock, but didn’t I have coffee? Walk around the house retracing my steps for a few minutes before pouring another cup, put it in the microwave, and realize that’s where the other cup was all along. By the way. Where the hell is my damn screw gun?
You can do this Kiddo. Wiggle your big toe.
In a way, I feel like time stopped on April 8. The calendar in her room says it’s April and I have wondered if I should change it next week when the rest of the world turns into May. In her room, and in my heart, it will forever be April 8. That was the last day I went into her room to say goodnight, but I had never planned to say goodbye. On that day, after 15 1/2 years of saying goodnight to my little girl, she succumbed to depression and tragically took her own life. In a way, she took my life with hers. I’m broken and hurting and mad and sad and at the same time I’m blessed, I’m loved, I’m safe, and I’m relatively reassured that I’ll see her again someday, if not sooner, because I swear she’s been playing tricks on me… but that’s another story.
You’ll find that I ramble. That’s why I needed this outlet. Social Media is great for random outbursts (which I am also prone to), but I feel like I need to tell HER story. Alydia is impossible to summarize in few words. She was an amazing girl with an amazing heart. Her physical heart still beats in the chest of another 15-year old girl who was the recipient of Alydia’s organ donation gift (as well as her liver and kidneys, who went to some other older dudes). I hope to do her story justice, so that she can continue to inspire and encourage others who may be hurting.
That’s all I can bring myself to write today, but I will also add her obituary, if you haven’t already read it. It was very difficult to concisely put Alydia into words, so I’ll use this blog to fill in the rest of the story about Lyddi.
Emmy (Alydia’s Mom)