Some of us aren’t craving more noise … we’re craving more peace, slower days, and meaningful moments. Some of us don’t feel sapped by calm - we feel revitalized by it.
He's ready to come back; the question now, is, am I ready? It's true the days have been slower - but it's also true that they have been peaceful.
Supper was a stew for two, and it was enjoyable.
The mental thumb screws were not.
In many ways he is a good man & in many ways, he is good to me, and for me.
But the primary problem remains, and it's a major issue. The over-reaching people he has tethered to him with indulgent self-centered binkies, are all old enough to be walking upright, taking care of themselves, and tending to their own business. My husband is disabled & what he is being asked to do to make life easier for them, is outrageous - especially considering that every single one of them have repeatedly stabbed him in the back without a twinge of conscious. To my way of thinking, he has spilled enough blood in bending backwards to honor his mother's unfair pledge to take care of the family: my husband is 64 years old … he deserves a break from family pressures: there will always be complications in their lives because they feed on chaos. There will always be something left unfinished & uncertain, because they never deal with anything … they ignore situations until it can't be ignored - then they call Holland to "come fix it".
That I can take care of myself, tend to my own business, and can fix things on my own - is not the irritant, on my end, when he's gone "fixing".
My irritation stems from my husband suffering a great bit of pain, on his {good} days, and suffering tremendously after the Kelso [fixing] days - his fixing days are over; he simply can no longer do what he used to be able to do before he was injured on a job site. That reality needs to be faced by all of them, including Holland.
I kept a lid on my own rising head of steam.
I remembered my calming mantra, of "Choose joy."
After supper, when I was alone … I checked the snap traps: seeing them still untouched, I pulled them out of the cupboard and cleared the bunk room floor by putting everything back into the perplexing cupboard.
The activity burned off stream.
It cleared the floor of what was beginning to resemble a hoarders paradise.
And I felt a little bit of accomplishment, at the folding of an otherwise laid-back Day.
All in all the Day was a good Day.
A little bit got done.
A little bit of hope and promise started & ended the Day.
And joy was the thread that kept it all, neat & tidy.
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