05/12/19 I know the sleep passed better than well. Fresh sheets greeted my tired, both smoothed and covered with a blue comforter and dad’s blue plaid throw, then a grey comforter simply because I sleep better with weight – and a window open which lacks a little sense in early spring. Earlier spring, smaller opening – common sense. I peek through half-lid eyes and realize exactly ½ the bed looks completely untouched. My sleep side has few wrinkles, a solo dent in the memory pillow, the covers barely stirred if shaken to allow entry last eve. I recall turning off the light, and the current state of thoughts. A tick-tock past nine hours – and two kitties at the end of the bed glaring, “Are you ever going to get up? Food, fool! We’ve searched every cupboard – wait’ll you see this mess! And no, no snuggles ‘til treats served in sorrow, water bowl filled with one piece of ice in each, both food bowls over-filled, and, in final penance, one hour of hair brushing each. Or, we’ll just climb those curtains we’ve been saving….”
I sing in the shower – the water goes cold in response. Should have put the clothes in the washer after but, I sold some common sense at a rummage sale last summer. Probably should have asked more, but the shelf life was slim. Breakfast – had some bacon with my usual Frosted Flakes/banana mix in just the proper size bowl with a splash or so of milk. Toast. And Kitty Taz poking from the far chair. First ears, then nose, front paws, a little leap to full body, the look-away-slink-I’m-so-sneaky stealth to hide behind my water glass. He blinks heavily, looks to and fro – “He cannot see me – I am too clever.” And the day proceeds.
At doctor’s suggestion, I have been practicing the dumping the stress/anxiety process that builds by turning every annoy into a joy. Or as close as I can come to one anyway. My bad hand drops a jar of water meant for the lipstick plant – well, the glass didn’t break since it landed on the carpet. A grin at the thought of just setting the plant of the wet, well, soaked, spot – isn’t that what the hole in the pot is for, drawing up moisture from the saucer? Too coarse sandpaper scratches and grates a nice piece of wood. A light sand with fine grit evens the grain and a couple of swirls turn out rather nicely when I rub in the stain. And old chest from the 1800’s presents a veneer challenge – cracks and chips and such. Grinding off the surface I discover solid, wonderfully grained ¾ inch cedar. Dust mask and protective glasses get me through the initial tedium in finding happiness in a treasure. A dropped drill bit, four time dropped putty knife, whacked knee on the trailer hitch, slivers, thinking about the “behind” in mowing work as more rain tickles the eaves…but I have time and presence-I don’t feel useless and empty and needy and alone. I envision dad in his workshop, or prepping paint, or tsk-ing me for sleeping late – “It’s six thirty, gonna sleep all day, time’s a-wastin’.”
Difficult to put positives at the top. Bill Withers penned a song that really helps me in this process. I make the “me” of the verses a “Me”, the Triune God of my days.
“Lean on [Me]”
Sometimes in our lives
We all have pain, we all have sorrow.
But if we are wise,
We know that there’s always tomorrow
Lean on [Me] when you’re not strong
I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long
‘Til I’m gonna need someone to lean on
Just call on [Me] brother, when you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on….
So many of us struggle these days and all too often lose sight of what we’re given in the woes of what we believe we’re losing. In the full song, “call on [Me] is repeated 16 times. “If there is a load/ you have to bear/That you can’t carry/I’m right up the road/I’ll share the load/If you just call on [Me].” An echo of Matthew 11:28 too often lost in life.
Matthew 11:28 – Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.