Living in the Moment
Ahhhh... quiet. Total and complete quiet right now. I'm in heaven.
Walter and Allan came yesterday and took the boys to the beach this morning. It is a beautiful day, the sun out, nice breeze- all is well with the world.
It hit me again, yesterday, how ill my sister is. Her fever was high again, and she slept for three hours in the middle of the day, even through the boys loud playing. I have been in a lot of denial about how sick she is.
It is odd, in some ways. I am not one to think positive- it drives my wife crazy. Every time my mother was sick, I was certain she would die. We sat through many a tearful conversation about what to do if she did not wake from a surgery.
She always did. Minus the end of her life, but that was a slow demise, not a sudden, unexpected slam.
I haven't gone there with my sister. I refuse to entertain the possibility that something could go wrong, that the disease is farther along than we think. That she will continue to feel so awful because the treatment might not work.
I can't, for the most part, think past the next hour. As the planner of the family, this is not good. But in terms of life lessons, I see how valuable this is for me.
Sit. Breathe. Live in the moment.
Allan sat me down yesterday and said, the boys need to know this isn't a small thing. They need to understand there is a long term reality- their usually playful aunt is not going to jump up and be able after a day on the calendar. This is going to be a winding roller coaster.
They need to learn compassion.
It brought me back. I will not have structure, for the most part. I can only plan the next hour, maybe two. Jake and I will go golfing this afternoon. We will have leftovers for dinner tonight. Laundry needs to be done.
That's it.
I also know I will have to reach out to all of my network of friends to help me with this. I cannot do it alone. I cannot be the sole support. My shoulders are broad but even I have my limits.
I hate feeling helpless. It is old, and pulls me back into a place where I have no voice.
Again, those damn triggers.
Tomorrow, doctors needs to be called. More records transferred. I need to get the books for the boys reading lists.
There is only so much I can do. I can't wave a wand and make my sister feel better. I wish I could. The Fates have a different plan for me.
But in this moment, there is delicious quiet. Sun. Dogs napping. I know I cannot catch it, bottle it, keep it.
It's a lesson I seem to need to learn in this life.
Walter and Allan came yesterday and took the boys to the beach this morning. It is a beautiful day, the sun out, nice breeze- all is well with the world.
It hit me again, yesterday, how ill my sister is. Her fever was high again, and she slept for three hours in the middle of the day, even through the boys loud playing. I have been in a lot of denial about how sick she is.
It is odd, in some ways. I am not one to think positive- it drives my wife crazy. Every time my mother was sick, I was certain she would die. We sat through many a tearful conversation about what to do if she did not wake from a surgery.
She always did. Minus the end of her life, but that was a slow demise, not a sudden, unexpected slam.
I haven't gone there with my sister. I refuse to entertain the possibility that something could go wrong, that the disease is farther along than we think. That she will continue to feel so awful because the treatment might not work.
I can't, for the most part, think past the next hour. As the planner of the family, this is not good. But in terms of life lessons, I see how valuable this is for me.
Sit. Breathe. Live in the moment.
Allan sat me down yesterday and said, the boys need to know this isn't a small thing. They need to understand there is a long term reality- their usually playful aunt is not going to jump up and be able after a day on the calendar. This is going to be a winding roller coaster.
They need to learn compassion.
It brought me back. I will not have structure, for the most part. I can only plan the next hour, maybe two. Jake and I will go golfing this afternoon. We will have leftovers for dinner tonight. Laundry needs to be done.
That's it.
I also know I will have to reach out to all of my network of friends to help me with this. I cannot do it alone. I cannot be the sole support. My shoulders are broad but even I have my limits.
I hate feeling helpless. It is old, and pulls me back into a place where I have no voice.
Again, those damn triggers.
Tomorrow, doctors needs to be called. More records transferred. I need to get the books for the boys reading lists.
There is only so much I can do. I can't wave a wand and make my sister feel better. I wish I could. The Fates have a different plan for me.
But in this moment, there is delicious quiet. Sun. Dogs napping. I know I cannot catch it, bottle it, keep it.
It's a lesson I seem to need to learn in this life.
posted by Sara at 9:54 AM
10 Comments:
As for your network of friends, we're right here and will be for the duration. Call upon us without hesitation.
And that compassion thing, what a meaningful opportunity... a lesson perhaps for us all.
I agree w/ zorba. Put us all together and our shoulders will be broad enough. Don't hestitate.
um... will you wear a uniform morgan?
LOL!! Whatever...French maid or Cop?
forget the maid, the cop is da bomb...
or a cop that is a french maid?
oh my, I have to stop now.
O.K., Sue J, you started this Missy! No laughing from you!
you are all sickos!! lmao
we are all here to help in any way we can.
Who, me?
;-)
Here forever. Even if you screw up. Always.
boys are welcome to come visit the farm any time. sharing is good especially if you don't want to fall to pieces. Love and hugs to all.
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