I haven't had much else to do these last couple of months besides watch TV and read. There have been times in my life when this would seem the ideal vacation. No real household duties, no grocery shopping, meal preparation, or running around trying to keep some crazy schedule; instead, nada. My son runs the errands and keeps me supplied with my main staple of Diet Coke. My daughter-in-law is doing most of the cooking. The dogs, cats, fish, birds and turtles still look to me for their daily bread, although my bathroom is becoming overrun with dirty feeding bowls, since it is easier to feed them there than to run up and down the stairs of my two-story house. Anyway, with all this time on my hands and nothing important to do, I could be writing or at least researching future articles. Ha, I'm also on Norco. Now Norco has turned out to be my own little miracle drug. Just one yellow capsule will keep me ache and pain free all day and with no annoying side effects like nausea, the shakes, or that "I'm not quite all here" feeling. The only side effect I've noticed so far is an "I don't give a damn."
Tom Delay and the Congressional Ethics situation ... "I don't give a damn."
The French and Chinese ... "I don't give a damn."
Connecticut Civil Unions ... "I don't give a damn."
Well, you are getting the picture.
So, where has my "active" mind been wandering?
I've been spending hours in reverie thinking about service and compassion, love, joy, comfort, and my own spirituality and the crisis of faith I've gone through in recent years. I've been trying to do visualization therapy on myself ... imagining myself in all sorts of different scenarios as I approach the big six oh in a few more weeks on May 7th.
When you feel in your mind like 30 and the reality is you are twice that, it is a bone jarring awakening to reality.
I've discovered that I'm truly lonely. Growing up as an only child and then marrying a man who was career military and away from home more than he was there is a training ground for loneliness, but this is different. I'm lonely for good friends who are happy where they are in life and still see years of productivity and fun ahead of them. I'm lonely for someone who "belongs" just to me and I to him. I'm lonely for somewhere to go and someone to go with on the spur of the moment. I find my mind wandering back to days of my childhood at Conneaut Lake, PA and the big neighborhood weinie roasts with fresh corn on the cob after a day on the lake water skiing and windsailing. I've been thinking alot about my parents and how actively involved they were in all aspects of our community. I've been thinking about my Mother as a young widow at the age of 45 (who never remarried) still carriying on with both charitable and business activities and continuing to entertain at home in the traditional sense. I find myself thinking of holiday meals with twenty people around a huge dining room table waiting for that first cut into the turkey. Lots of laughter, lots of feelings of belonging to something. How different my own life is today. I've lived in my neighborhood here for four years now and I know two neighbors across the street and not even those who live on either side of me. Pathetic! I never hear from old friends much anymore except for an occasional Christmas card. I guess most of them got frustrated during my years of 24/7 care of my Mother after her stroke, when I could barely leave the house and frequently couldn't even come to the phone if the call came during a crisis period. I mean, who really wanted to communicate with someone who was in a perpetual state of "down." So, I guess I'm lonely too for the old me and my old life.
Creating a new me isn't as easy as it sounds. I can't go back to the wheeling and dealing and power trip of Washington, DC ... a time in my life I loved. It is too late to go to Vetinariary school or become the world's leading archeological expert. A domestic goddess I am NOT and never aspired to be, so I take little pleasure in a new recipe or the latest cleaning product. I don't think NASCAR is waiting for me either. And for sure, there are no astronaut slots available for me. Combine all this with an incredible sense of shyness that has overtaken me and I'm at a loss as to how to plan for this new future.
1 total comments.
Posted by Stew:
My wife respectfully requests that if you want to get rid of some of those extra years, send 'em on over so I can act more grown up. Heh
Enjoyed your blog and I hope you feel better!
--Stew
PS There's an earthquake here in GA every morning when my big ass hits the floor. It's driving the neighbors nuts.
Comments