Waiting for the Storm to Break

Dear John,

 

I did have to miss church today - I texted Father and let him know the fibro pain was still bad, and he was very encouraging. I'm feeling a bit better this evening. And I may have the lawn problem licked. Sharon dropped by for a visit today, and was talking about how much her 12-year-old nephew enjoys mowing. She's going to ask him how much he'd charge to mow once a week for me. I don't have a lot of money to spend, but I've reached the conclusion that it would be well-spent. I'd still trim and weed. I found out what happens when you let a man weed, the day you pulled up all my rhubarb!

 

I'm still feeling rough emotionally, and I'm coming to the conclusion that it's another round of grief. It's just a constant sadness and hopelessness. And all of this is because you forgot to take me with you! (Forgetting your toothbrush I can understand. But me? Really.) It seems that numbness wears off in stages and long-term reality presents itself a little bit at a time. And that's a good thing. It would be crushing to have to look at it all at once. I've been in survival mode for a year and a half, and now something in me is saying that I need to do more than survive. But I haven't even voted in favor of survival yet, certainly not long-term survival. But that's what I'm having to look at. And it's extremely unattractive. Not appealing at all. Nope. No thanks, I don't want any.

 

I have the imagination of a toddler, but I'm stuck here. I can't imagine a future for myself. I know what I'd like to do - have more time to write, more time to knit, and learn to spin and dye my own yarn. (Can you see the cat's reaction to a spinning wheel?) But that would require being independently solvent - something that I am not. I'd like to be able to volunteer at the hospital one or two days a week. Again, that requires solvency. And the financial future doesn't bear looking at, either.

 

I feel like I'm hanging in the balance of something or other - my life feels like the air does when a storm is about to break. I'm feeling the barometer changing and electricity in the air, and waiting for the first crack of lightening. This round of sadness has some anxiety with it, something that is new.

 

Or maybe I'm just coming down with something. Either way, please pray for me tonight, as I will for you.

 

Love you forever,

Joan.