i am just plain wore out. everything just hit me all at once; Fiona’s surgery and questionable future, letting go of 4 of my core kitties, the accident with Axle. A few minutes ago when i trudged upstairs to be sure Fiona was still wearing her Trimline collar and give her another round of meds, i found my legs refused to move one more step and i sat on the top stairs and the tears i have been holding back came flooding out.
All this worry, over Mike, the cats, my dad, my job has just done me in. I need a vacation- as if I could ever take more than a couple days away from all my responsibilities.
I am not feeling sorry for myself, I move past crisis, grief, sadness, whatever by writing. After Jeremy died, I found comfort at putting pen to paper and writing my son letters every year about what I believe we might have shared together had not God called for him much sooner than I planned. It is in writing out my thoughts, charting my days that I can move through the chaos that sometimes clouds my head. I still have all my journals of my life- I started journaling when I was eight years old. Mike used to laugh when he saw the boxes in the attic taped up tightly and labeled with the years of my life. He said I should write a book one day it would be a best seller- that may be true- but the book will be about my life’s work with these cats and nothing else.
Right now, I am starting to feel better. It just somehow works to push past the garbage and bring words to light about what ails me.
And now, i need to go because Mike needs his shot. His fingers don’t work much anymore and he can’t give his insulin shot to himself. Here is to tomorrow with Promise and Axle having a few cracked ribs or something that won’t claim his life- Tomorrow there is always promise in Tomorrows.