It’s probably not terribly obvious, but I think about these Quiet Thoughts posts all week long. I keep my eyes open for lessons to learn, insights to articulate. I try to decide if something is bothering me enough to dive into, find some sort of big idea that I can that transfer to this space. I like these Friday posts to be a capstone for the week. A lot of them write themselves. Well, that’s not true. Many of them are simply easy to get out of my head and onto the screen. Others end up being too personal or painful, or I have to figure out how to tell a powerful story without giving all of the context because it would be too boring otherwise.
I know that there have been failures. I go back to read and I think, “augh. I really missed the mark there,” or “jeez, I wish I hadn’t left out that particular detail…” There are other posts that I’m really proud of. I see improvement in my writing and storytelling, I know that I have so much more to learn, but at least I’m inching toward some sort of greater skill.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this post. I feel like expectations are high… I had such a ridiculous day on Monday. I should have something profound to say today. I should have news. I should have something to offer.
But I don’t. Honestly, I’ve got nothing. I’ve had thoughts all week, but none of them have been quiet. I’ve had very little quiet, and those few moments that I’ve had were rarely full of thoughts.
It’s nothing dramatic. I haven’t broken glasses or sobbed in a corner. I haven’t thought about death or even cancer. I’m just still coming down from it all–from the experience of getting such unexpected news, processing it, and now dealing with the aftermath. I’ve had to do all of that in the context of day-to-day life: parent-teacher conferences, field trips, grocery shopping, temper tantrums, dinner preparation, bathroom scrubbing, early-morning wake-ups to give a child ibuprofen… not to mention the inconvenience of snow days and rainy days, giving the boys too much screen time so that I can get some work done. And you know what, Dear Reader? I actually had a pretty productive week. Here I am on my third blog post of the week, I got some freelancing done, I got some editing done, I wrote about 4,000 words of fiction for Camp NaNoWriMo… I even did some stuff with my writing group! All that and I quilted and hosted a craft night!
I’ve entrenched myself in everything normal so as to deny the abnormal, the abnormality, that I know I have to deal with. I’ve taken little steps, then someone tells me I have to make a call or do some research, and my brain clicks right off. I’m uninspired to deal with it. I’d just rather not. The thought of “moving forward” fills me with dread. I’m dangling my feet over the rabbit hole with the understanding that it would be easier, even preferable, to jump in myself… but I’m still waiting for the push.
Longtime readers and close friends who know me well probably read that and were dismayed. I’m a self-starter. I hate waiting. It’s unlike me. Yes, Dear Reader, I know.
My mother has sent me no less than three texts with wording along the lines of “when is the next appointment?”
I’m avoiding her.
I’m avoiding all of it.
I’m not ready.
I’m not sure that I know how to get ready. I have to simply do. I have to pick up the phone and get it all going and… who the hell wants to do that? I don’t want to do that.
That’s where I am, Dear Reader. Imperfect and all.
So… now what?
It’s Friday… Fridays come with wishes. I can manage that, at least. Right?
I wish you something still growing out in the yard, Dear Reader. While my grass is green and delighted by all the wet weather, all of bulbs that came up early seem to have suffered irreparably from the snow and cold. I wish you a few survivors in your own yard, one strong plant still willing the Spring to come. I wish you something sweet and fruity. A tart, perhaps? A pie? Maybe a strawberry shortcake. Bonus if you make your own vanilla ice cream (it’s not that hard. You can do it!). I wish you a long phone call with a friend or favorite relative. Maybe a pep-talk you didn’t know you needed is in order, or a story of something long past but still powerful. I wish you a squeezing hug, a kiss on the cheek, and someone telling you in all sincerity and entirely too loudly that “you look good” and you’ve “definitely lost some weight!” Follow that up with a big, heavy meal of your favorite food (obviously!).
Most of all, my wish for you is someone looking you in the eye and saying “I love you.” I hope that they are delivered breathlessly, powerfully, maybe for the first time, maybe for the millionth. I wish you the wonderful feeling of knowing that love is true, deep and unconditional, and that you are worthy of it. Then, I wish you the opportunity to share those same words with someone else. Love is moving, love is inspiring. I hear it may even be healing. Go find out and report back, Dear Reader.
Until Monday, stay safe, stay bright, be kind, and take care.