I didn't mention it in yesterday's post, but my choice of seats upon relocating myself to a different pew at Quaker meeting prooved to be somewhat problematic. In my new seat I was facing the place where my friend who chose to end her life sat. Where she sat next to her husband and they would hold hands. I found myself missing him dreadfully and with a sharper pang than I expected. I wanted him to sing. I wanted to hear "How can I keep from singing" (which I for the life of me cannot ever remember). I remembered him coming to talk to my babies. And how calm I felt when I was with him. And I kept telling myself not to think about either of my elderly, departed friends. Not to remember how she had seen patterns in the wood grain where the sunlight hit the floor. Not to remember his assertion that my boy would be a minister, or that he had such a lovely tenor-- because my child would sing happily through "silent" meeting. Not to remember her stubborn individuality. Her immovable nature. Her calm decision to end her life that will never sit well with me. And I cried silently throughout worship. So here we have another chicken-egg situation. I feel emotionally crappy. Is it because I wallowed in sorrow? Or did my sorrow appear because I had some sort of downturn? There were many things that were easier when I lived an unexamined life. Today I spent much unproductive time thinking how horrible I am as a parent because:
Crappy clay-faced morning. Hopefully better later. Grateful CraP; Equatorial Actions: took meds (150mg venlafaxine, 450mg bupropion, 100mg lamotrigine) 20 minutes of tap; but it felt uninspired Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |