And I want to go home.
The last four days have found me at the bottom of a very deep, very dark well of missing home and realizing that it's been almost a year since Stewey's diagnosis...which means our MommieSteweyversary is coming up as well.
I thought I had a handle on this, but apparently...I do not.
The worst part of this sadness is the guilt and shame that comes when I realize how very blessed and how very lucky I am to have landed in such a lovely apartment and that the tremendous love and generosity and support of this community saved my life, but I'm still sitting here wanting to be home looking out at the trees and birds and see my Little curled in his little bed in front of the patio window.
I'm sad. And scared. And tired and lonely and worried and overwhelmed and feeling sorry for myself, and that's just not like me. No matter how low, or how hard the stuggle, or how hopeless the situation might be, I am usually able to pull out of it and soldier on.
But not today.
Today I just sat and cried and wanted to go home.
I knew this move was going to be hard, and I knew that all of the losses of last year would eventually catch up with me, and I knew that as the kidneys failed I would start to feel worse and worse, but I guess I just didn't think it would all happen at once.
But it would appear that the universe is trying to keep me on my proverbial toes, since I feel like I just might have been dropped into the middle of the ring for the fight of my life...but I'm not sure if I have it in me to get my dukes up anymore.
I just want to go home. And I just want to go back to my life with my sister and my dog and my stitching and my books and my coffee and a heart and head that were full of joy and laughter instead of grief and sadness.
Tomorrow is another day. I've promised myself that it will be better than today and that this is just something I'm going to have to get through, but boy, do I wish it would hurry up. I need to get on with this new life, and despite all evidence to the contrary today, there's no room in it for this weepiness and sense of ugh to continue...
A twelve hour session in the Happy Chair yielded a new start by way of Northern Expressions Needlework. This is Star Spangled Banner done on a mystery piece of 28 count linen that was in the pattern bag, along with the called for DinkyDyes silks and Mill Hill beads:
That bottom stripe is actually three rows...a row of 60 Rhodes stitches, then 60 Jessicas, and another row of Rhodes on top
I don't know if I will continue with this tomorrow or not, but it was a good thing to have in my hands today...very meditative once I got going on it.
Thanks for listening, dear friends. I hope that things in your corner of the world are not quite so...fraught...as mine seem to be at the moment.
More tomorrow, I promise. If I can, I am going to try to do a little work around here to see if I can settle in a bit more. Maybe a few pictures on the wall and a good meal or two will bring me out of this.