girl at large

No Harmony Yet

Start painting again they said, it will be good for you they said. It will help your anxiety my therapist said.

So far my accomplishments include spending the kids college funds on supplies, hiding off camera during video classes and defending my water bowl from Stevie the cat.

A few sketches and paintings have worked out as intended, but, in the way paintings can do, a few images have turned against me. This little house in New Harmony, Indiana for example…I’ve been up nights trying to get the damn thing right. A happy little travel study has morphed into a frustrating test of my patience. 

Like the end of active cancer treatment, when I “should” feel healed and happy, it’s a work in progress.

Late Stage Romance

“Sorry honey, I had a big cabbage slaw salad yesterday.”

“That’s ok, I just dropped a huge bomb in the bathroom”

Happy 10th anniversary my love. 

Wanna Try That Again?

I’m helping Mom complete an online health questionnaire, an important one for an upcoming appointment. It’s long, it covers a lot, and it’s challenging to do even without vision loss. I’m reading from the screen…

Me: “Ok, Mom here are the social support questions. Answer either True, Mostly True, Somewhat True, False, Mostly False, or Somewhat False—‘I have someone I trust to help solve my problems.”

Mom: “False”

Me: “Really, are you sure about that?”

Mom: “Totally, I don’t trust anyone to solve my problems”

Me: “No one? You have no one to help with your problems?”

Mom: “Not that I can think of”

Me, laugh yelling: “MOM I’M LITERALLY RIGHT HERE HELPING SOLVE YOUR PROBLEM!”

My favorite part was Paulie snorting from the other room.

Wonderful, Lovely Disaster

I haven’t hit upon a charming story to tell about our First Born Spring Break Road Trip. It was fun…but it wasn’t. The weather was crummy, and I was sooooooo tired, but that wasn’t the problem. It just wasn’t…the same. Some parts of the journey felt as heavy as the cloud cover; the buoyancy of the past trips was missing.

Two years have passed since our last Spring Break Road Trip. Two terrible, roller coaster, frightening, serotonin-sucking years. I’ve changed, I’m still changing. Mom is slowing down. Felix is no longer content to be toted around odd museums and yarn stores, he wants to DO KID STUFF.

My sister saved the trip. I would have curled up into a whimpering ball if it weren’t for the distractions of her personal Memphis tours, warm home and lovely meals. And thank heavens for their trampoline.

As Felix launched himself in it, I saw, right in front of me, in his rare genuine grin, how desperately we need some lightness. Some relief, some perspective on our troubles.

Tonight, when I bemoaned my day as a disaster, and called myself a total disaster, Felix said “You're a wonderful, lovely disaster”. He hugged me tight…

…then, his thin arms still around me, he asked for more iPad time. Kids, they bounce back.