I'm afraid my nightly restlessness is starting to affect sweet Hubs' sleep. I try to be quiet, I'm currently the resident of the guest room. But when you are "resting" about 75% of the day (probably more...) it's hard to sleep all night. And my body gets sore from lying there. I am a busy person. Even when still, I am not still. So this non-stop stillness is wearing on my body and my mind. I never come into the master bedroom, but I am sure he must see all the on on off's of the sensor light in the hallway that he insists on. The reason I know it has to be bothering him, is that I am sitting in the master bedroom. Have been for about an hour, and he is not here.
I can see the weariness in his eyes. My sweet Hubs is not usually the caregiver. He is the cared for. He has been responsible for everything, and I know my antsy mindset has not made it easier. He's still got his own day to day life responsibilities and then to take on caring for me completely. He wasn't about to let anyone help, I understand. I was almost the same way when I took care of him all those years ago. Yet I am worrying about him.
This heat wave is making life fairly miserable also. It's just plain muggy and uncomfortable. The air conditioners and fans are working overtime trying to keep things comfortable. I'm sure that is adding to the restlessness in the air. I can't wait for the weather to break. This sweatshirt and jeans girl is ready for some evening fires and cool breezes.
Last night as I tossed and turned so many different dreams and thoughts rolled through my mind. I'd wake up slightly chilled and snuggle down into the tattered blue star quilt that covered me. Most of the night, that silly old quilt covered me softly. It's age and the fabrics it was from allow it to be a soft comforting cloud, smooth and retaining the chill in the air.
I can't exactly place the year I made it. I am fairly positive I made it for my parent's 25th wedding anniversary back around 1987. I was so new to quilting and very much self taught. But I was the only daughter that wouldn't be there to celebrate that special anniversary, I had just moved to Germany and a trip to the US was more money than we even hoped to be able to have.
We didn't have much. And lived in a fairly large, attic apartment where my sweet little girl and I spent all our days. We couldn't afford a second car and there really wasn't anywhere we had to go. So during the times she was awake we would explore the German countryside and during quiet times and naps, I would pull out my treasured Morse sewing machine, sit down at the government issued table and work on that quilt.
The quilter that I am now, can't decide whether to be horrified or honored that it still exists. Every time it is pulled out I am stunned by the number of seams that need to be put back together. Shocked that I ever thought those fabrics could be used in a quilt that would stand the test of time. It isn't quilted, it's tied, I was a long way from learning to quilt back then. The super soft cotton is worn through in places and tattered beyond repair in others.
It's a beast of a quilt. I remember it laying out on the giant living area floor, covering it almost completely. I am fairly sure it is close to a king size, as that was the size bed I had at the time and I remember making it sure it would fit it. The seams don't match right, the fabrics do not remotely belong on the same quilt. It is stained, tattered, and torn and full of love!
I am not sure how much my parents used it, I lived an ocean away. I don't know if my sister's snuggled up in it to watch television. I know little of it's history with them. Around 2009 it came back to our home. Mom thought our boy would like to take it to college with him, a tiny dorm twin room didn't need such a huge quilt, so it stayed with me. It's graced sick beds, it's been snuggled in on cold winter nights. It's covered weary guests and it's spent it share of time curled up in a closet or two.
My first day home I was chilled, my body was still adjusting to the surgery and I was running a low grade fever. My sweet girl grabbed it from the closet to warm my body. Little did she know how much she warmed my soul.
I truly don't know if my parents treasured the blue beast. I definitely know that I do. I could take her apart and mend her seams, I could replace the tattered fabric. Some day I might. As I've snuggled under her, healing and becoming strong again, my fingers have traced her battle wounds. She's done what she was made to do. She's blanketed family and friends in love, provided comfort, been a constant. I'm not sad that she was far too old fashioned for a young man spreading his wings.
As I have slept caressed by the softness of her fabric, cooled when too warm, warmed when chilled I have enjoyed memories of times long past. I have actually had my Dad visit me in my dreams for the second time since he passed. I have felt comforted.
Yesterday I was finally strong enough to sit in bed, awake and fully functioning for the majority of the day. I was able to leave the house for a short while (further than I did on Monday when I went down to the girls house) and remembered how to be human. I even started work on one of my blocks of the month. It was incredible!
I was hoping to move to my cane today, but Hubs hasn't had a chance to get to the store and my PT scheduled my appointment for 9 am today. So I guess it will be next week. It's okay. I know I am progressing super well, and it is simply a mental desire to prove I am doing as good as I am to others. I know what I am and am not able to do.
I also know what I could do, but would freak my husband out so I won't do. Like going downstairs for coffee. I know I can navigate the stairs without issue, but I am not sure I can carry the walker with me. If I had another walker downstairs, this girl would already be down there.
I am bored!
Well therapy is in a few short hours, so I think I am going to go and start working on my stretches. I want that last 6 degrees until full straightening.
I am ready to be me 100% again!
Good one!! 381+
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