Tiny Thank You

A few days ago, I let the dog out for his morning bathroom break. I followed behind him to guard against any rogue coyotes that might view him as a snack. We had seen a couple of coyotes slinking around in the daylight hours...quite alarming as we had, up until the sighting, allowed our little Bichon to roam the back yard, unguarded.

While waiting for the dog to do his business, I noticed the hummingbird feeder had gone dry. I unscrewed it from its tree tether and filled it with red hummingbird juice and reattached it to the tree.

A few hours later, armed with my hello kitty blanket, a soda and a People magazine, I snuggled into the chaise lounge on our terrace to soak in some afternoon sunshine.

The wind had a bite to it, hence the hello kitty cover, but the sunshine felt divine on my flu/cold/plague body.

Deeply immersed in my People magazine (it was the photo shoot of the royal wedding *girl squee!*) I became aware of an odd little squeaking noise. It sounded like a cassette tape being quickly rewound (for those of us old enough to remember what those where...).

I peered over my magazine to find a tiny hummingbird fluttering in front of me chirping away!

I stared at it for a moment in amazement. It was so close I could have reached out and touched it.

"chitter chitter chitter" it said. Its wings fluttering like a fan blade set at high speed.

"Your welcome" I said. And the hummingbird zoomed off.

I sat for a moment while my brain tried to catch up with the moment. I had the odd feeling of being in a waking dream.

Did that just happen? My brain asked.

That was so freaking awesome! The forever child who lives inside me answered and pumped her fist in glee.

Reflections from my Sick Bed.

I have been ill this past week. After 2 visits to the doctor the diagnosis is "a bad virus". Prescription? Gatorade.

Seriously?

Yup.

And it worked like a miracle drug.

I feel myself beginning to crawl out of the pit of sickness back into normalcy.

I am still coughing like my body is trying to turn itself inside out.

I'm still terribly weak and cannot quite fathom how I am going to survive an entire day at work tomorrow...

But, I am on the path to wellness.

You know the strange thing about being ill? Everything around you becomes skewed.

The little things take on more meaning. The things you thought were so important, you find were just burdens you put upon yourself and really didn't need to carry.

I think this revelation comes when you are forced to stop moving. Forced to lay still for hours at a time with nothing left to do but reflect.

I know as soon as I am fully well again I will be embracing life full speed again and these fleeting insights will get shoved back into a memory drawer.

But today, today I am too weak to move faster than a snail on a bed of gravel.

Today I shall document my reflections for my busy self to read when I am well again.

Dear Busy "healthy" Self:

Sunshine is divine.

The feel of it soaking into my skin feels better than the sip of an iced mocha I spend trudging through lines of people and traffic to acquire.

Time is relevant.

Rushing full tilt to try and ring every precious minute of a day makes the day seem shorter and less pleasurable.

Spending an hour laying still, drinking in a story a clever author has spun seems to suspend time.

Why is that?

These are the revelations I have come to today.

I shall try to remember this when I am well and chasing life by its tail.

But for now, I must crawl back into my sofa nest and reflect while my body twists and heaves to remove this dreaded virus from its pores.

Peace...

She has gone to her friends house. For how long, I don't know. Perhaps for the duration of her visit? I hope...

She didn't say goodbye and LV said she was oddly distant when MW came home from school.

Considering it's been a year since she's last seen him, I have to shake my head at her.

Many MANY kudo's go to my beloved LV for enduring 2 days with her while I was at work. He is a clever man and eased my stress by totally "getting" her proliferation of lies she weaves like poisoned threads.

I did not for one moment feel I had to backtrack through conversations he had with her while I was out of defending ear shot. I know with all sincerity that LV knows me, understands me to my core being and not only loves me but likes who I am.

Do you know how precious that is? How dear?

The quiet peace of our home is restored and the balance of gentleness and goodness is settling around me filling in the cracks she left behind.

I love my life.

I love my little family.

I love the home we have built together.

I love...being able to breath again.

Jagged Thoughts

It is late but I don't want to go to bed.

If I go to bed it means today is officially over and I'll awake to the day I dread.

She is arriving tomorrow evening.

EWO.

She is 83 now. So old. So many years of life.

She plans this arrival on the day after Mothers Day.

I don't want to celebrate her being my Mother.

I don't want to hurt her...but how does one say, "I don't want to think of you as my mother?"

I spend every day of my life squashing memories of the time she wore that label and had me under her control.

I did not feel this anger. This sadness...this disgust until the day I held my son in my arms for the first time.

Every year that passes (in raising my son) opens my eyes to just how horrible of a "mother" she was.

I fight with my entire being to prevent my son from feeling pain. My soul lights up when he laughs and his eyes dance with happiness.

I kiss and hug him as often as he will let me.

I cannot understand how a Mother would feel or do anything less for her child.

But she is 83.

She is at the ending years of her life.

And I cannot make myself say the words to her I feel rolling around inside me like jagged pebbles.

I cannot hurt her.

As she has so often hurt me.