The autumn equinox is past; equal parts of day and night. As I lie in bed writing this post, I hear the wind blow through the trees at the south end of the deck and see the sky, a milky white wet color, struggling to become daylight. We are entering into the dark days of fall and winter. I wore a turtleneck sweater to work yesterday and felt comfortable. It is October 2 already.
I must remind myself that I enjoy the fall. Right now it seems dreary and sleepy, like I could spend the rest of the morning in bed and feel OK about not doing anything with purpose. Hibernation mode, perhaps? Getting out there seems like a big deal to me today.
Dad came home from the hospital yesterday, weak and fragile. Will he rally? How much more assault on his body can he take? Mom's lack of short term memory creates a new level of anxiety for her and a frustration for those of us around her as we go over again and again what we wish she could remember. As I left their apartment yesterday, I felt the energy and life literally sucked out of my body. There is sadness, fear and trepidation for that which is inevitable but has no pattern or predictability. Things just happen and I am part of the unfolding, a receiver without ability to change the trajectory of the ball I'm trying so desperately to catch.
This is an example of my internal drama and is a new type of post for me. Good morning one and all. I'm off to the races.