Update: What has been goin on with Homalinadir?

I haven't been posting, with the exception of a few comments here and there, for quite some time. I have checked in on occasion, but I really didn't feel, in the slightest, like posting anything. Granted, I do/did have some outlines, but the energy required for fleshing out the ideas into an acceptable form just wasn't there.

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Subjectively, the past few months have been somewhat of a roller coaster ride. The whole of this picture is rather complex, and I won't dwell on many of the parts. I will, however, share the central point around which all of the others revolve.

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My mother passed away in mid February. Cancer. Thankfully, the process was relatively swift. I was even able to say goodbye, unlike with my father. He passed the day before my 19th birthday, but I found out the morning of.

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I was away at college. Hindsight being what it is, my fathers death really did a number on me. It was a good three years until I 'came to'. I think it affected me so deeply because that age is a critical time in psychological development...I was not yet a man, and the example I followed - as a matter and function of nature - was suddenly no more. The only silver lining with that situation was there wasn't anything unsaid between us, as so commonly happens.

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That being said, my mother was like a rock. Growing up, she was my biggest fan (band, orchestra), my best friend. She was everybody's favorite band mom. All of my and my sister's friends wanted to come to our house rather than the reverse. Some have called her an angel in human form. Perhaps she was...though we don't really know what, exactly, an angel is. Do our conceptions of reality match reality itself? None of that really matters...what matters is that she touched everyone, deeply, who came into contact with her. She had the ability to put almost anyone at ease. She made people feel like they mattered. She had the most contagious cackle.

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When I was probably 15 or so, the whole nuclear family (myself, sis, mom, and dad) was out for dinner. My dad said something funny (perhaps at the expense of someone in another area of the restaurant) and it tickled mom. She started giggling, which made the rest of us giggle. Then laughing. Then sounding like a chicken trying to lay a cubic egg. Within two minutes everyone in the room with us was cracking up and had absolutely no idea why. This is just one example of the many times this theme occurred.

She was a Helluva woman.

So, I suppose, the short answer to the question in the title is: the usual, as well as not so usual, complexities arising in the wake of her passing have occupied my energies.

I do intend to get back to the serious business of sharing my thoughts in the very near future.

---Homalinadir