Clutter Buster

Feeling much better today, and having slept away most of the past two days, I climbed out of bed at 4:30am. I am scheduled off for a three day weekend because I had planned to have a yard sale on Saturday. My goal is to eliminate enough of the extraneous clutter we have collected over the years so that I can stop paying for at least one of the two storage units that we lease. At $1200 per year for the two units, one would think we would have done this sooner. It is an emotional thing. There is a lot of junk in the storage units, but there are also a lot of memories. And it is very hard to let some of those things go. There is also quite an assortment of things that are kept out of guilt. Things passed on that we have no use for but feel quilty about getting rid of. Oh, and did I mention my husband is a pack rat? You know his kind, "We can't get rid of this, we might have a use for it in 50 years". I need to get him out of town for the day or he will be taking things off the tables and hiding them in the shed. But I will persevere for the time has come for a cleansing of the soul of sorts. One of my "thing to do before I die" wish list items previously posted was to clear all the clutter from my life and this is a big step in that direction. Not that I plan on dying soon, just that it may take me many years to accomplish. Whatever I can't sell I will either donate, post on Craig's list, or see if another family member is interested in storing. So wish me luck. I hate having yard sales, especially when people want to haggle with you over something priced at $1. C'mon people, either you want it or you don't. I would rather give the stuff to a charity than deal with the cheap misers. I held a yard sale with my in-laws several years ago and I swore I would never do it again. After the sale was over and all the leftovers had been loaded back into the house I actually had people return and knock on my door, wanting to know if I had sold a particular item. If they had to go home and mull over whether they could pay the $3 for the items in question perhaps they didn't need to be out yard-saling. Cha-ching!

Food for Thought

For the past 36 hours misery has held me hostage, confining me to bed or sofa. I awoke yesterday with a headache pounding like a jackhammer, sinuses clogged like concrete, and a need to hang my head over the toilet or a bucket to heave. With kleenexes in hand I tried to get comfortable in any position, sitting, lying, half-lying but the pounding would not leave me, nor would the ensuing chills and sweats, and the nausea and vomiting that went with it. Nary a sip of water would stay down. Last night I was desperate to be able to keep down some Advil so I tried a single cracker, hoping to put something in my stomach before the medicine. Turned out not to be a good idea, so I struggled through the night in pain, ready to poke out my eyes for relief. This morning I crawled out of bed at 5:00am so I could see if anything would stay down before I had to head to work, but my body was rejecting any form of nutrition. I hated to miss our staff meeting today but there was no way in hell I could have done the 45 minute drive to work and then spend a 12 hour day in hell. I could think of nothing else but finding a way to relieve my head. I was actually too sick to get to a doctor on my own so I mostly drifted in and out of sleep between the waves of nausea. Finally, around 2:30 today I was able to keep down some liquids, venturing a few sips at a time. Then a few bites of instant mashed potatoes. Then medicine. More rest. More sips. More potatoes. Finally I could be upright without feeling like my stomach was churning. I still have a headache but it is more of a dull thud now.

So now I am craving cinnamon toast. For most people, the thought of putting sugary, buttery bread in their bellies after being sick may not seem the wisest thing to do. But for me, cinnamon toast has always been one of those comfort foods from my childhood. I will wait a while to make sure I can stomach it but before the night is over I am sure I will have a slice. As a child, whenever I missed school due to illness or my frequent asthma attacks, my mother would fix cinnamon toast when I was well enough to eat again. I would sit in bed with the plate of toast along with the puzzles and word scrambles that she made up to entertain me quietly. She would check on me frequently, touching the back of her hand to my forhead, brushing my hair from my eyes, and listening to my breathing for signs of improvement. I know my asthma attacks frightened her at times, but she always made me feel safe and calm. While she is no longer of this world, I feel her spirit nearby. I take comfort in these past rituals of my childhood.

These thoughts made me stop to think of the other comfort foods in my life. Of course, there is Big Red, which I have previously written about. Mashed potatoes with their starchy goodness seem to help me combat nausea. I have used them to help cure motion-sickness and morning sickness, hangovers and nausea from headaches. It doesn't always work, but for the most part this is the first food I try to keep down when anything ails me. Toasted buttered cheerios are a favorite snack from my childhood as are red licorice sticks. I have a candle on a table in my living room that evokes cravings for giant cherry sweettarts from back in my Girl Scout days when I was drawn into the corner grocery as I walked to the meetings and would sometimes spend my dues on this sugary treat. Other favorites are macaroni and cheese, meatloaf, and baked corn pudding. Of course, coffee has become a favorite, especially when enhanced with a splash of Bailey's Irish Cream. What are your comfort foods and what memories do they evoke?

Elect to Act

I arose at 4:30am today so I could read a little bit more about the presidential candidates views. I left the house at 6:15am to cast my vote. Surprisingly, I only had a 20 minute wait in line. As I stood in line watching the other voters I felt a camraderie with all of them, no matter the party line they were following. As Americans, we all strive for similar things: good secure jobs, good education for our children, a sense of safety from the threats of terrorism, decent affordable healthcare that won't bankrupt us or deplete our life savings, the right to practice our religious beliefs or non-belief, the freedom to have a binding relationship with the person we love, the right to speak out without fear, a sense of pride that America is still a great nation of people who are willing to reach out to others to improve lives around the globe. We may think that we cannot do much as individuals but we all have the power within us to change the world, one small step at a time, one person at a time. So after the election is over, perhaps we could all seek out a way, be it small or large, to reach out our hands to those who need a lift up. Help a neighbor, volunteer, pray, donate, tutor, mentor, house, feed, clothe, comfort or inspire. Have a wonderful day and get out there to vote.

Still With the Living

No, I didn't fall off the face of the earth. I have been extremely busy these past two months. I just got back from London where I had a wonderful 10 day visit with my daughter and her family. There is absolutely nothing better in the world than holding your children and grandchildren in your arms. My new grandson is so sweet. I am afraid I may have spoiled him already because I held him so much. And my granddaughter is so much like her mother was at that age... so gregarious and full of energy, yet sweet and caring. Climbing into the taxi to head back to the airport was so, so difficult. I am sending my other daughter over for a visit at Christmastime. Our gift to both of them. Hopefully, we will be seeing all of them stateside in late spring or early summer. Until then, webcam and phone calls will keep us going.

I have a lot of work to do over the next week or two and then hopefully I will be back to writing a bit. Until then, I will just enjoy reading the other blogs I follow. See you soon.

Salvation

Quiet solitude, like a scalpel, cuts into my heart, letting emotions long tamed spew forth, bringing a bloody burning sadness to the day. Lonely solitude, like a raging sea around a deserted isle, washes away the levy locked around my soul, flooding my mind with swirling thoughts and memories. I cannot drag myself to the surface of this funk, my life preserver is miles away, and I feel myself sinking swiftly in this current of sorrow. If you have never lost a child so dear you can never understand that you cannot ever heal from having your heart ripped up and torn to pieces, that the best you can hope for is to get up each morning and trudge on, seeking normalcy in routine, no matter how insignificant or frustrating it may be. And when that normalcy is disrupted, you hang by a thread from the very edge of hope, wondering if you have the strength to save yourself once again, to pull yourself to safety, or if you could just let it all go and float down to the depths of the very hell from which you have been running, to surrender to the dreams that haunt your nights. I want to scream out to the world that I am not okay, I will never be okay, but instead, every day I get up and join the masquerade, hiding raw emotion behind a mask of indifference. And instead of screaming, I write. It is my salvation. Early in the morning before the sun is up or late at night when the house is quiet I seek solace in writing, unseen and unspoken words pouring out onto the pages, escaping like sweat from my pores, bringing cooling relief from the seering pain of motherhood unfinished. And slowly my mood shifts and the words lift me and give me strength to face the world again, to get on with it all, to be a part of the living.

"River of Tears"

by Eric Clapton. I say no more.

Little Piece of Heaven

What is it about one's own bed that is so sweet, so restful after a long day, that is a place like no other? Is it the softness of the sheets and the smell of the pillow as your weary body sinks into the mattress? Or the sigh of comfort the moment the sheet and blankets settle around you, encasing you in a sense of security? Is it the familiarity of the space around you casting out the uncertainties of the day? Is it the proximity of a partner lying nearby, bringing peace to your slumber? Is it that the bed is the safe haven you go to when you are sad, angry, or scared? Where you shed your emotions without the world watching? The place you cry, laugh, love, and dream?

After a weekend filled with friends, music, food, drinks and fun I was still so glad to get home, to fall into my own bed for a rejuvenating sleep. My husband and I have always said that no matter what life tosses our way we would be okay as long as we had each other and our bed. Our own little 5' x 7' piece of heaven!