I wrote this on Sunday. Just got around to posting today…
This past week was a week. As in rather trying. Emotions and words and faces. Joys. Hopes. Memories. Voices. Smiles. Hugs. Thank yous. I’m sorries.
I got up Wednesday morning feeling physically worse than I have in a long, long time. Headache. Emotionally drained. Thursday I felt as though I was recovering from a stomach virus. Granted, I was not recovering from a stomach virus. Yet I felt as though… Weak. Not wanting to eat much. Again, drained. Happy on Thursday though. Joyful. Strangely joyful even though. Yet Thursday was a day to be on. As in alert. Engaged. Until 8pm. Not that I’m complaining. I am not. I am simply recording the facts.
Today. It’s Sunday. The weather is about to change. Fall. Autumn. The season proceeding winter. And I realize. As I sort through the events of the week. Friends. Family. People I love more than the world. That October is the month. The month of revelation and change and reminders. Countless reminders. Will it always be? Probably. For me.
I grow tired of questions. Comments. Little utterances designed in someone’s mind to put me at ease. Yet it doesn’t work. In reality, it puts the speaker at ease. Makes her or him more comfortable. While all the while, I am scattered. Adjusting. Speculating. Well meaning people yet.
My friend told me to figure out what I want. I remember my daughter asking me Labor Day weekend. What do you want? Coming from them, the questions are alright. I trust them. Care for them. Know they want what’s best.
What do you want? What an odd and interesting question. Because truth be told, it’s never really seemed to matter. Not in my adult life. Always at the disposal of someone else. Again, a yet. Yet.
What do I want? What does anyone want? Good internet?
I want the Dodgers to win the World Series. I want the kids I work with to get through high school. To be leaders. I want my own children to be what they were designed to be. Important and the mundane. I want many, many things. Meanwhile I sit here and type. Listen to the wind. Hear what sounds like raindrops but I’m unsure.
Unsure. I am so unsure. Although I know. I could list out right at this very moment what I want. We all could, I’d venture to say.
I don’t want another week like this one. Although I know they’ll come. I want resolution. Yet life isn’t designed to resolve like a chord progression in a song. Life is designed to be lived. Simple. And at the same time profound. Because to live is to feel and cry and scream and laugh and hug and run and enjoy and hate and love. Sometimes all within the same week.
Upon a Sunny Day 