Today I was so bored that I cooked a chicken dish, listened to techno music, and cleaned the inside of my refrigerator. I suppose some people would go see a movie or take a walk. This is what happens when you have two little people. Mommy, mommy, mommy. Wah, wah, wah. Life takes everything you have and then asks for more. So you oblige. As I'm dancing with River in the kitchen to this old techno music, it's almost like I'm re living a memory I have somewhere in my head. Of my childhood. Music playing and my mother cooking in the kitchen. Cleaning, and dancing, and cooking. So normal. But not.
(I want to rewrite my children differently. Can I?)
I want to let go and enjoy this moment with River, but I just can't. Not completely. And that's the dark side of who I am. I'm the kind of person that can have fun all night at a party, but then go home and cry. God, just like...I want to let go and have some semblance of peace, but it's so hard to let go when you remember certain things...like, for example, how finite life is. Why let go completely and relax? When you do, you just grow old and die and lose it all. All my children, all my work. Why should I love every moment when every moment is doomed to end anyway? This is where my thoughts travel when I don't pull them together. I'm not a naturally happy person, I have to work at it. My life circumstances really make it hard for me. But I have to pull myself together and remember things like God, Heaven, Love. The Big Picture. But even Heaven I approach with some trepidation, just because of its unfamiliarity. Yes, Christians aren't supposed to be afraid of The End. Well, I am. Because I don't know anything else besides what I've known here. And the mind that I have now can't even conceive of a life where I don't hold babies and my husband and have intertwining days of pain and relief. I'll miss them in that way, my family.
I just think too darn much. Way way way too much. I don't want to go back on anxiety medication. I don't really know that I need it...because then there are the Good Days. The days that encourage me to persist. One day life won't be so difficult anymore. I just need to believe that.
Let’s Hear It For The Irish - You could probably tell by my last name that I am not of Irish descent, but I was born in 1952 in New York City and I know its history. I truly believe the...