Maybe We All Just Need a Moment to Quiet Down and Grieve
Sunday morning I woke up with a little tickle in my throat and I tried to ignore it. I tried to forget about it as I sat in the CBC foyer watching the snowfall and my husband, who had a very similar throat problem, rushed around salting the steps and driveway and convincing a guy who was sanding another parking lot to come do ours too. I attempted to push it from my mind as we went home and everyone ate leftovers and looked at the Sunday paper. I really did forget about it while we were on the interstate watching cars do 360s in the snow, but it was back in full force as I napped on the plane while we were de-iced.
Flying into DFW, I couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that my bladder needed relief and became pretty fixated on finding the ladies room as we disembarked. While we went down the escalator I only thought about whether or not Tom and Sarah had been able to get to our new arrival gate and was relieved to see them smiling and waving downstairs. We all watched the ball drop an hour early and then in our own time zone too. Kisses at midnight made me forget.
Monday was game day and while a bowl game should’ve brought sheer pleasure, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that the temperature was going to seriously affect my hot forehead and aching sinuses. I was right, but I pushed most of it out of my mind as we stood by and watched our beloved team beat themselves. Not a crushing defeat by any means, and it’s not bad to loose to a team like Auburn (let’s all remember that they beat Florida), even if we were the better team on the field.
I worried little about my head when Carlos Santana forgot that breaking should come before dialing numbers on his cell phone. I only thought about the baby and hoped that the little sack of water he’s in had cushioned him from thinking anything more than, “Why won’t this woman just chill out already?”
By the time Tom and Sarah were heading back north, I could no longer ignore any of it. We spent the day collapsed in exhaustion and illness in the living room sleepily watching the last bits of college football and hoping that a magical fairy would go to the store for us so that we wouldn’t have to drag our sorry, sneezing selves there instead.
Tuesday meant work and an intensive class for Jud (nothing like jumping in with both feet when you feel sick), but at least the stock market was closed and he had a small reprieve. I made the drive up a little ways north to work and have been fairly busy all week, which helps me to focus less on all of my ‘poor me’ and more on things that need to just get done.
Last night, while checking my email again after four days (does anyone know what the deal is with gmail when it asks you to save a file in order to access your mail? It’s done this in the past and I don’t remember what I did to fix it) I discovered lots of bad news from friends. Our friends’ baby boy is doing poorly and just had a feeding tube put in. Another friend lost their baby in utero somewhere around the twelve-week time and didn’t find out until fifteen weeks. She had a D&C today. It’s not hard to forget about yourself when you see others in pain. I just prayed for those two moms; for the suffering they are going through and tried to remember that these momentary afflictions are going to be replaced with glory beyond measure. And I thought how that would sound so hollow to me if I were sitting in a hospital room today, but that truth can be like that from time to time; cold and emotionless. It doesn’t stop it from being the truth, though. It just doesn’t always bring much comfort.
