Just a general sense of things not going well. Little things that pile up like kindling ready to blaze into a bonfire. I come from a long line of strong women who do well under pressure; we bake for funerals, we place the severed leg doublebagged in plastic with ice, we say the appropriate thing to people then relive it for days, weeks later.
Worrying long distance about close family and friends is disabling. Too many little things can overwhelm and screw up clear thinking; problems don’t get solved, and good things aren’t enjoyed fully, come tinged with a bit of grey sadness. Fix a lawn tractor, worry when you can’t reach the special someone who you know was so anxious to hop on and take off; hours of e-mails and phone calls between here, New Hampshire and Florida, car and house keys in hand and mind grimly set to prepare until the phone is finally answered. An award received without the man responsible present because he too, is off on worrisome trails. Not taking the time to reach a friend for a couple days because everything was fine, and now, maybe it isn’t. Accomplishing nothing with a day of misdirected effort. Paying the wrong bills first, and framing the wrong pieces. Doing a lot, but the most important, most pressing, slipping your mind.
I look around the blooming, growing backyard and see feeders that need filling, weeds that need pulling, earth that needs tilling, plants crying to be let out of their pots and to feel the freedom of spreading roots into gardens. I shut the back door and come back inside.
Loretta, your mood is contagious, and this is, I’m sure, just another blogbug we’re passing around.
Tomorrow then, tomorrow will be much better.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Hold on just a little while longer. The cycle of life has to keep moving on – it won’t always be a dark day.