Day Fifty Seven- I’m not sure whose counting anymore.
For weeks after my braces were. removed, at random times, I would run my tongue along my teeth. The enamel after three years of metal and rubber bands felt glorious and unexpected
Ever since the words quarantine came into daily conversation, I’m constantly checking my mood like I used to check my teeth.
I ask my daughter- she says I get way too close, and sound scary serious- “how are you handling everything?”
She usually says fine, but sometimes, she actually answers the question with more than two syllables. It’s best to catch her right before bed and never before 9 am.
I’m fine, mostly.
I’m depressed, miserable, elated, grateful, lethargic, whiny, goofy, tipsy, manic, sad, silly, sleepy, mean, petty, joyful, and mellow.
I’m lonely; I’m enjoying the time with my daughter.
I’m missing my job; I’ve wandered the woods at Ponkapoag on Friday at 11 am. I’ve read eight books, played my flute, and bundled up three bags of shirts for Goodwill.
There is a lot of talk about recognizing the difference between knowing what we can and can not control.
I’ve learned I don’t control a damned thing but whether or not I’m going to stay in bed, or get up with the morning.
I’m getting out of bed.
If I’m sad, I’ll move through it, with a little help from my friends.
Time to stop counting the days, recognize the privilege of a slow morning under blankets while coffee drips, and get on with the rest of my life.
I’ve got work to do.
Stay strong,
Jules
Aftermath
April 2, 2016
Before I go to bed, I have to water the plants, put out kibble for the cats. I lay out my clothes, check stockings for tears, the blouse and the sweater for coffee stains.
I lock the doors, close down the computer, set the timer on the coffee and the phone.
Then, I take a moment, or i am caught inside the thought- what will happen to us tomorrow?
My family is not having an easy time.
How hard will it be?
Will things get better?
Are things worse than I know?
I know the serenity prayer, I say the words.
I lean into peace, sometimes find myself sliding towards terror-
I’m not a fan.
There are too many damn things I can not change for the people I love best, and I need to make things better.
I can’t.
So I say it again.
Then I bribe Sophie the sweet with a biscuit to join me for a half an hour of tv.
March 2016
julierichmond 