Love The Ones You’re With


I unpacked every single box in this pile.  Most I had planned to unpack anyway.  Then on Sunday, we got a really heavy rain and water came into the garage.  All Sherod’s boxes–the ones that had the garage/shop treasures like drills and nails and bolts and screws, and the electric train he got as a little boy–all those were in the garage.  They couldn’t be left wet to mold and rust so I had some extra lifting, sorting and putting up to do.  My biceps are coming along nicely.  And, knock on wood, what I learned about lifting from courier training at FedEx has meant that I have not had any back pain, at least not yet.

I was struck by the sense of added responsibility when I realized the water was coming in.  My first impulse was to call and ask for help–I actually did.  But I wound up being my own crisis response team and in that, got to do more problem-solving, more figuring out, more heavy lifting and that is wonderful right now.  I go to bed exhausted, with little else on my mind than what I hope to get done the next day.  I am also more mindful now of the burdens as well as the joys of solitude.  The load a single, working mother carries has to be overwhelming with the millions of setbacks, minor and major, that are woven into life.

This week I have also become aware of just how precious my critters are to me.  I started this blog post earlier this morning and it is now getting close to lunchtime–the whole time, Spot, Boo and Daisy have been upstairs in my new office space with me.  A couple of days ago, one of them managed to push the bathroom door open while I was having a shower.  I happened to look out (our shower has one of those glass enclosures) and there they were, the three of them sitting in a row, staring at me.  Their company is enormously comforting.  I had the opportunity (and plan) to go off with some friends for the fourth of July and have now realized that it would be really hard on my critters–they’d be cooped up for way too long since we don’t have a way of leaving them outside, and the dogs get anxious with the sound of fireworks so I am having to reconsider my plans.  That isn’t a burden–I am too grateful for their presence.  Life is good…

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