Happy New Year Everyone! Well ok, new year plus 13 days.
It would appear that the new year, new beginning I've been praying for is starting out about the same as the last one. Dang, I was hoping for more than this polar vortex, sickness, depression and death, but it is not to be. Our family lost yet another husband, brother, father this week, my brother-in-law. He was diagnosed a few months after Steve was with lung cancer that spread to his brain. Steve always considered him an older brother and spent lots of time with him after he retired. My heart breaks for my sister-in-law and nieces and nephew. We know what they are suffering. May God bless them all with His grace.
I have never been effected much by the weather but, my goodness, this cold, dark, ugly stuff is getting on my last nerve. I'm becoming somewhat of a hermit, dreading to leave my shelter. I deliver my meals on Friday, if weather allows, spend my weekend with my mom and then stay inside all week. Getting spooky, my sister claims. Not really, I just need the solitude and silence to heal my heart and soul. I read, attempt some quilt piecing, rearrange furniture and read some more. Google has allowed me to become somewhat of an expert on many topics. Jeopardy is one of the few things I watch on TV and I google answers I am unfamiliar with. Oh I know not to end that sentence with a preposition, but really, don't we all talk this way? How stilted to say "answers with which I am unfamiliar"? Besides my college comp professor said if you know the rules you can break them. Apparently rules are just for the uneducated, maybe?
To be honest, I have been depressed lately and sad and angry. So what? I have been a good girl all my life, followed all the rules and helped others. Just like my parents, teachers and Scout leaders directed. And now at 64 I am a widow, alone and it stinks. I would say 'sucks or blows' but I do not like those words. I have always had anger issues of an untypical kind, I don't know how to be angry, I just don't have it in me. No great big loud outburst of noise, no cursing, no threatening to nail anyone to a wall by tender body parts, I just cry. And I am not a cryer, therefore, my anger problem. I have this big dark well inside that is just there and I don't know how to empty or fill it.
As a counselor I know that letting others in will help, helping others will help, but as a griever (?) I am not ready yet. I know that a massage would help my tight muscles, but I cannot take the chance that I might break with that much intense contact. I am too fragile and vulnerable to risk my control over my self. And you all thought I was the queen of calm and control, didn't you? Yep, this piece of the rock is crumbling a tiny bit.
I am doing a personal Bible study on The Authentic Voice with Dr. Billy Graham's daughter, seeking to find Gods voice in all of this hurt. I keep listening to hear Him say He is here with me and it will be OK, but I hear only silence. I know He is and it will be, but right now I need more. Once when our son was flown to Louisville after a car wreck, I felt God in the car with us, telling me our child would live. I keep listening for that loving voice again. Time heals all things, maybe, maybe not.
My life is full of blessings. Yes, I can truthfully, sincerely say that to you. I count and rejoice in those blessings daily. I know millions of people suffer much greater pain everyday. Mothers must watch their babies starve to death, die from disease or be shot down in war. People experience agony in ways we cannot imagine. My mind knows all this to be true. And yet I hurt. I hurt for my loss, my children's and grand children's loss. And I am angry at cancer, at doctors, at the world.
Well, not that that is out, how beautiful was today, huh? Sunny and mild almost balmy. I loved it. I came home from Mom's and cleaned my fridge! Yep, I'm weird. Nothing like a clean, empty fridge, I must buy groceries tomorrow! The loaf of bread I bought before Christmas is looking a bit suspicious, even toasting doesn't help the taste. I'm out of fruit and tortillas and hummus, only peanut butter and stale crackers left for supper tonight. I hate shopping, Stephen King was my shopping knight in shining armor. Apparently I only love cooking for others, who knew? My boys fixed my frozen pipes last Monday and said they were afraid they were eating my last meal with their tomato soup and quesidilla lunch. It just doesn't feel important to eat. Yet strangely I manage to remain an overweight status. My metabolism is akin to a whales, I am convinced.
It is 3:00 am, I must get into bed. Take care and talk to me. Love