I slept eight hours last night. I took time not to work first thing but to drink coffee and read while it rains on this spring morning.
It feels luxurious. Decadent.
I freaking deserve it.
I have worked my ass off to accomplish what I have in the last four months of my mother being here. Work and planning and care-giving and emptying and moving and raging and healing and understanding and confusion and revelation and resolution.
Depression. Anger. Anxiety. Joy.
Lunch with my girls, Penny and my daughter, yesterday. A night's sleep last night. A moment free of anxiety. Is it so much to ask? I am so grateful for it.
But you caught me at a rare moment of bliss. SO don't think I have stopped needing the support. I told my Leaders of the Free World (clearly, more on that later), aka my HSGs (High School Girls) that while it is difficult to continue to support me in this chronic state of suspensed care-giving, grief and pain, it is the sheer protraction of it that makes me require attention and support all the more. Difficult for me to ask. Yet I desparately need it. I need to be checked on.
My dear reader, if you feel so inclined to show a little love, support, especially a bit of humor, friend me on Facebook or use my email if you know it and do just that. A little note each day from someone who remembers me is manna for my hungry soul. I thank you in advance. Attention and care is the most blessed gift to give. Like this rainy day, I welcome the shower.
