I'm not sure I am reaching success, but I am working on it.
Yesterday was supposed to be the day off to complete my chores. To finally catch up on my so called life.
I didn't make much progress. Hubs wasn't doing much better. In fact together we might be a happening mess.
We finally have groceries in the house. I considered that a HUGE accomplishment. Although we did forget coffee and will definitely have to get that in the next day or so. Neither of us functions well without it. And it did take us most of the day to accomplish it, seems even with a list we barely felt the urgency in the moment.
I was laughing as we strolled through Costco for a few of our household items that we use a lot of. It made me think of my Dad. He always had a thing about the house being stocked enough for the end of days. He did not like bare or semi-bare cupboards. Mom will probably not need groceries, except the basics, for months. Hubs and I are the same way. I'd like to think it comes from taking care of large families, but I have a feeling it's a hoarder warning sign.
I remember walking the old commissary in Ramstein, Germany with Dad and his testing us girls. How much do you think we are spending? We'd all place our bets, I don't know that there was a prize, but it sure taught me some good estimating skills. Raising a family of six on a military paycheck did not often leave much extra. Although, until I was a young military wife myself, I didn't realize that. Mom and Dad truly worked hard to make us feel rich.
I struggled through most of yesterday. A moment of joy wrapped up in moments of tears. This new dance is exhausting! I keep looking for the bright lining. There's got to be one, I am an eternal optimist. I don't believe in there not being a silver lining to every cloud. I'm struggling to find the silver. And I am getting so tired.
I asked Hubs yesterday, why it was that even though I didn't see or speak to my Dad every day that now I can't go a minute or two without thinking about him. Hubs lost his Dad just about 35 years ago. I don't know that he really had an answer for me. Just held me and told me it was probably because of the fact that I always knew before I could pick up a phone and he'd be there. And now my heart knows that it isn't going to happen.
I guess that pretty much sums it up.
I'm trying to take this step in my life and move forward. To learn the lessons available and to step up and move forward.
And backwards.
I'm trying to put my phone down more, for weeks I have been losing myself in motivational quotes to help heal the wounds and stupid mindless games to dull what isn't ready to heal.
The act of truly living has felt obscene and foreign, I simply did not want to participate.
Yesterday, I started trying to live again.
It's going to be a slow process.
I bought groceries - and I cooked with them. I even have dinner cooking in my RockCrok. Seems I might have missed St. Patrick's Day... better late than never... corned beef and cabbage will be served tonight.
I cleaned up the flowers that have been dying and shedding on my kitchen island. I kept the ones that are still blooming and I am considering drying the ones from Hubs. I am making baby steps to normal. I almost kept them, dead and dying. I didn't want to walk away from the link to the memory. Then I decided that was plain silly and my Dad would think I'd lost my mind. So for the people that sent plants - thank you! The flowers are beautiful, but the plants will stay with me. Lesson to self... send the plant. I remember my aunt keeping the pussy willows from Grammies arrangements, she was going to try to grow from them. I don't know if she succeeded or not, but at least now I understand.
I actually transplanted another plant, one the "b's" got me years ago. I think it was a bosses day present, I can't remember. I just know it was given in love. That 'little' plant is on it's third container and honestly if it gets any bigger will need a new home, as it is outgrowing my ceilings. I was going to take care of another one, but I ran out of dirt and frankly there was no will power to go and face humanity to buy more.
It can wait for the next grown up day.
Hubs knows I am a nut about colored pens and markers, they simply make me happy. I might have a problem. And he feeds it. My nice new stack of pens encouraged me to finally write the notes that have needed writing for two weeks. The cards had been sitting there mocking me. I just couldn't bring myself to sit down and write. Again, facing that made things real. I wasn't ready for real.
Sitting at the island pouring out my heart in those notes to people who's kindness has made the difference in my sanity over the past few weeks, felt healing. I'm still a few notes of a song, a glimpse of a memory or a familiar scent away from tears, but it feels less bitter.
It felt good to actually write. To watch the soft loops of a written word form. (By the way, did you know that schools were not teaching writing anymore? What is this madness?) The fluid letters forming beautiful sentences. All wrapped up in the beautiful colors of ink that he gifted me with.
The laundry never happened, the floors didn't get vacuumed, ironing - well of course it could wait.
I wanted to sew, but my heart wasn't ready for that. The last time I talked to my Dad was in my sewing room, on Facebook messenger, that was the last conversation we would have "face to face". I'm not ready to face that. Maybe that can wait for next weekend.
This is going to be a busy, up hill battle kind of week. I'm actually looking forward to it. I need the distraction and the direction. I'm struggling to pull my brain back to full steam. I know I need to, I'm just struggling with it.
"Oh you make it look so easy, that doesn't seem quite fair, baby I'm still trying to get myself up and flying..." thanks Reba... this is where I am right now... but I am trying...
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