So, how was your Thanksgiving? That's probably not a proper way to begin a blog, but I always want to know how other people spend the Holidays. I spent mine with my father's side of the family in a cottage on the beach in Florida. This was the first time in 15 years that we were able to make it...the "we" being my mom, dad, and me. I still don't have clearance to drive, mostly because I suck at it, so I rode with them. Unfortunately I spent a lot of time in bed because of my broken back. It gave me plenty of time to think, though, sans computer and other web capabilities. We stayed from Tuesday until today. I was ready to get home, back to the dog and all things familiar. As I was laying in bed, though, I tried to maintain a positive attitude by thinking about the things and the people for whom I'm most grateful. I read quite a bit...a little Anne Lamott and a little from an ancient yoga text. The latter was extremely confusing and not nearly as entertaining as the first. My brain seems to serve me well lately, as I haven't had an episode in several weeks now. I welcome the reprieve with somewhat open and tentative arms. I can't help but wonder when things will go downhill again, and I hate that about myself. I wish I could enjoy the break without putting one foot into tomorrow's possible breakdown. I don't think I'm alone in this. And I don't think that this behavior is limited to those who have mental illness. I think in some way we all do this, with whatever ails us.
As I lay in bed this week, trying like hell to be grateful when I really just wanted to crawl under a rock because I felt like I had the body of an eighty-year-old, I found that I had one foot in that today and getting home. I was glad for the vacation, to see familiar faces that had gone unseen for so long, and to hear my elders tell stories of Thanksgivings past. I became painfully aware, though, that the older generation's presence and guidance will not be there much longer. They are getting older, and so am I. Things are changing. People are changing. I am changing.
That is what I got most out of this week...that everything is changing. My daughter is changing. My relationship with her is changing. She no longer calls me mom or mommy. Instead, she calls me Lucy. I don't mind it much, as that name is a term of endearment in my my family. However, I am painfully aware that I am not her primary mother figure anymore. It hurts like crazy, but I have to walk through it. I'm 33 years old now, and I'm not getting any younger. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. Will I feel good? Will my back remain like the rusty cogs of a wheel or will I be able to move more freely? Will my brain behave itself, or will it go off into some new psychosis? These are all questions I've been asking myself while keeping one foot in today and one foot in tomorrow. It's like my dad always says that if you've got a foot in today and one in tomorrow, that you're pissing all over today. I love that...not the pissing on today part, but you know what I mean. I think we all need to remember that. I think that life comes in abundance when you stay right where you are instead of lurching towards tomorrow in expectancy. Hopefully I'll remember that as the day closes. Thanks for reading.
