family first

I’m Okay

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

I’m okay now.

At least more okay than I was.

I don’t cry every day anymore, so that must be progress.

There was a time when your name could undo me before the sun had fully risen. 

A time when every phone notification made my heart stumble, when every unfamiliar vehicle turning into the driveway made me look twice.

That doesn’t happen as often now.

Not because I miss you less.

But because a heart can only break in the exact same place so many times before it learns how to carry the crack.

It has been so long since I’ve heard your voice.

So long since I’ve felt your hug, seen your smile, or smelled the sunshine in your hair and the scent of an honest day’s work lingering in your clothes. Time has not erased those things.

If anything, it has sharpened them.

Your children are all another year older now.

So am I. So is everyone and everything. 

Birthdays have come and gone. Holidays have arrived and passed. Seasons have changed without asking anyone’s permission.

Time kept moving.

I hated that at first.

It felt disloyal to laugh.
Disloyal to enjoy a meal.
Disloyal to have a good day when there was still so many empty places at the table.

But life is stubborn.

It insists on continuing.

I see your wife from time to time on social media. Her smile is still the one I remember from porch conversations and crowded kitchens. I see traces of the life that once intertwined so naturally with ours, and I wonder if she ever thinks about those days too.

The children are growing.

The family is changing.

The world keeps turning.

And I am learning that standing still will not bring you back into my life —our life. 

I spent a long time living inside that stormy summer evening, replaying words, replaying mistakes, replaying every crossroads where things might have gone differently. 

I searched for answers in places where answers no longer lived.

Grief is a hungry thing.

If you feed it, it begins to consume everything in its path and everyone around it.

I can’t let that happen.

Not anymore.

There are people here who still need me.
Still need my strength.
Still need my presence.

Still need me to be ok. 

I need them to be okay.  I need you to be okay. 

So I will not lock myself away in regret and what if and so much sorrow.

I will not ask the rest of the family to live in the shadow of my heartbreak.

I will love.
I will celebrate birthdays.
I will make memories.
I will laugh when something is funny. I will heal. I will forgive.

And so will you.

I will cry when I must. 

And when thoughts of you come—and they always do—I will let them sit beside me for a while.  

Not as an open wound.

Not as a punishment.

But as happiness … as love. And I’ll smile.

Because despite everything, that is what this has always been.

Love with nowhere to go.

Love that cannot call.
Love that cannot visit.
Love that cannot hold its grandchildren.

Love that waits.

And though I no longer stand at the window or watching the road every day, some part of my heart still leaves the porch light on.

Just in case.

Here’s a Quarter – Call Someone Who Cares (Crazy Conversations)

/ Janna Hill / 2 Comments



Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty and the photos are meant to confuse the innocent.

Here’s a Quarter – Call Someone Who Cares or Cats, Mice, Birds & Bulls*t (Crazy Conversations)

Lenny: I called you at least a dozen times Saturday! Why didn’t you answer?

Me: Did you leave a message?

Lenny: Hell no, I did not leave a message. Why don’t you answer your phone?

Me: Well because sometimes I am busy.

Lenny: You are not so busy that you can’t pick up the phone at some point. I mean – for Pete’s sake I called you twelve to fifteen times – all day long and you ignored me.

Me:  Hmm. I usually do answer if I recognize the name or the number and (of course) if I am free to talk.

Lenny: Oh, so you were busy. Are you working on a new story?

Me: Nah.

Lenny: Then what are you so “busy” doing?

Me: I have a couple minor things in the works but mostly … Hmm… let me think … I guess most of my time is spent playing with the kittens – oh and watching the birds. Maddie, my female cat – mother to the kittens – killed a Bluebird and ate it. Lordy, lord! I know it is only natural but I have to admit it troubled me seeing it. That poor little bird flapping his beautiful blue wings so fiercely at first… then flap, flap … flap. He went limp and it was over. I almost cried. I prefer not to see it, ya know?!  Did I tell you one of my tomcats, Jimmy, sweet little Jimmy Jam killed a Cardinal? Oh man, that was unsettling. I don’t know if I can ever see him as being sweet again. I don’t mind them killing mice but–


Lenny: So you are so busy with these kittens who [by the way] you know will grow up to kill the birds because that is what cats do – you are saying this full time obsession prevents you from answering your phone?

Me: No, that is not what I said. Didn’t you hear the part where I said if I recognize the number? I’m looking through my phone and apparently you are not even listed in my contacts; if you were stored in my contacts my phone would specifically say “Incoming call from Lenny” and then I would (probably) answer.

Lenny: Probably?!

Me: Yes PROBABLY. Although I’m not sure now.

Lenny: Why? What do you mean?

Me: I’m not sure I want to talk to anyone who is so callous toward cats and birds.

Lenny: I am not callous – I’m just saying —

Me: Oh, shut up hater of God’s creations. Back to your query, I’m still looking… Why aren’t you in my contacts? I don’t have your number. Hmm… no voice mail … no messages…

Lenny: Oh my gosh! You are screening your calls, aren’t you? Why are you screening your calls?

Me: That’s my business and you haven’t answered my question. I save important numbers. Why don’t I have your phone number stored?

Lenny: Because I use a Call Private service.

Me: What is that?

Lenny: My phone is set to restrict my ID so it shows up as anonymous or private number.

Me: Why the hell would you do that?

Lenny: Because I’m not comfortable with everybody knowing my phone number – I like my privacy.

Me: Oh, I see. In other words you’re paranoid or up to no good. That is a sneaky tactic, you know I do not like sneaky!

Lenny: So you will answer the next time I call?

Me: Not if I don’t recognize the name or number; definitely not if it is anonymous or private.

Lenny: Why?

Me: Because I like to know who I am going to be talking to Mr. Sneaky Snake; who I am freely giving my time to. Maybe you should drink root-beer.

Lenny: Well, don’t you at least want to know why I called?

Me: Oh dear Lenny, [mean spirited bubble buster] in honor of your anonymity and with all due respect for your privacy [despiser of soft furry things] the answer is no. Now if you don’t mind I have a thousand kitty videos to catch up on so here’s a quarter, call someone who cares.