these days I don’t go out much. I like going to the local toy store because all the sounds are little kid sounds, not grown up worries or problems, you know, and it reminds me of being little.

I’ve pretty much been living in a bubble. staying off socials, staying off the blogs, strict time limits. doctor’s orders. I’m keeping away from old feeds and the mindless scroll. especially the old pics and vids on the gram that bring up things I can’t handle yet.

I’m not working right now. my job at the donut shop is waiting for me because they understand. spending a lot of time just here at home in the apartment. I stare out the window for hours it seems, watching buses run too late for the shifts. time doesn’t stop. I never realized before how the windows wail every time it storms.

I water and talk to the plants. I read a lot. I even learned to cook a few new things, like pescado a la coqueta (Spanish baked fish with garlic and paprika). mom takes me to the clinic and the psychiatrist’s. sometimes that’s scary, like I can feel flames racing toward me. other times I can’t wait to go, just for the chance to see someone new on the bus or in the street. the other day I saw a guy who looked just like Jesus. he smiled at me and I felt like a desert I wished he’d wander into.

I take short walks with abuela to the bodega. we attend mass. sometimes we go to the park and hold hands while she tells me stories about abuelo and my dad, who I never met. how I inherited his eyes and mom’s smile.

I’ve also been listening to old records that she and my mom collected, discovering cool sounds I didn’t know before. I think they’re trying to tell me something, so I’m making a few new songs. I hope to post something at some point.

the light behind each window is pale like a prayer.

5 responses to “days”

  1. Willie Torres Jr. Avatar
    Willie Torres Jr.

    Quedira Cookie, so good to see you writing again. I don’t know if you will be back on to read any of the comments but you have been in my thoughts as well as your Mom and Abuelita. You have a beautiful way of finding small lights in the middle of hard days. I’m thankful you’re giving yourself the time and space to heal, and I pray each gentle step brings a little more peace. Keep writing, Cookie. Your light is still shining, even on the quiet days. 🙏 Know that I am here for you and you are in my thoughts and prayers…

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  2. Caring for the plants, cooking, contemplating, taking nice walks in the park, and having meaningful conversations with your loved ones seem like great therapy and a precious way of enjoying your days. It does more FOR you than if you were rushing after solutions, goals, or similar things. Just for the sake of it—that’s life! Reading from you always brings me some sort of inner delight and reflection, Cookie. Thank you for keeping us updated and for showing up now and then, at your own pace. I appreciate YOU, dear friend! Lots of light, love, and blessings your way, today and always! ✨💖🙏🌻🌈

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  3. Taking a sabbatical from past experiences brings about exactly what you need. A phase of small steps, taking days to weeks to months, in order to find a confident and ‘new and happier’ cookie. Nice to know tunes and music are bubbling back to reality too. Keep well. And tread softly. 💫✨

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  4. Cookie…🤍🤗✨️

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’m glad
    you’re taking tine time to heal with walks, tine with your mom and abuela Cookie and seeing your psychiatrist! Strolling on social media can be such a waste of time!
    You’re always in my thoughts and prayers! ❤️💕🙏

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