I have been thinking about writing a blog post for a couple weeks. I have not written because:
1) I have lost the desire to write.
2) What do I have to say that is not the same thing we are all thinking and saying right now?
But I’m here. I’m alive. I’m up and down and all over the place (in my head, not in Greenville).
I am reading books, thank You Jesus. The stars indicate favorites.
I am staying connected with a few close friends through letters, phone calls, and texts.
I am enjoying strawberry nutella waffles and coffee from the Tandem bus.
I feel thankful that my 40th birthday was last summer and not this summer. That would be hard to plan for and be excited about.
I mainly just keep trying to stay present in this one day, this one hour sometimes. Otherwise, I can’t do this anymore.
“But it seemed to me that this was the way we all lived: full to the brim with gratitude and joy one day, wrecked on the rocks the next. Finding the balance between the two was the art and the salvation.”
I have cried several times in the past few weeks because this is just so different, hard, and LONG.
But then I see a lady in Aldi with her grown mentally-handicapped son and I am reminded how easy I have it.
And then I see my friend Marianne’s posts on Instagram about her baby boy still being in the NICU, and I am reminded how easy I have it.
I miss the library A LOT.
I do Marco Polo with my sister.
I still listen to the same two podcasts: “Happier with Gretchen Rubin” and Emily P. Freeman’s “The Next Right Thing.” Those feel so familiar, which is nice when many things feel different.
I don’t care much about waterskiing so far this spring and that isn’t like me, so I feel alarmed by this fact. I am trying to be okay that I don’t feel like myself in a number of ways.
I recently watched two Netflix shows with TJ (Unorthodox and Waco), which didn’t feel like myself either because I rarely have a desire to watch TV at night. But now I want to read both books the shows were based on. Again, I need the library.
TJ and I watched the Downtown Abbey movie the other night, and then we watched Little Women (the new version) with the boys. We also watched American Idol until it ended. That was kind of a lot of watching TV. But we love love love Jonny West.
I one-hundred-percent know I would rather be bored than overwhelmed about doing school at home, so at least that chapter is closed (for now).
I don’t feel stressed about grocery shopping any more so that’s one reprieve for which I’m grateful. I still always wear my mask that my friend Sarah made. It’s great and I love the color blue.
The rain for the past two weeks has put an even greater damper on my spirit.
Yet I’m here. I’m alive. I’m writing something.
I’m even curling my hair some days lately, just to make it look different. It reminds me of when it was shorter and I curled it every day.
In May, I read Mere Christianity two times because once was not enough, and now I want to be a little Christ. I read Heather King’s Shirt of Flame about St. Thérèse of Lisieux, and now I want to walk the “little way.”
“[The “little way”] was a matter of allowing the divine will to unfold in the very ordinary, everyday experiences of life and of responding with generosity, confidence, and love.”
Church isn’t the same and I’m struggling to understand why it feels so hard.
I’m cooking pretty much the way I always have. Last night we had taco bowls, tonight we’ll have baked tofu with rice and almond butter sauce, tomorrow night we’ll order pizza. D’Allesandro’s is our new favorite. That feels fun and special.
During quarantine, TJ and I have had car dates at Tandem, Hendough, GB&D, and Zoe’s. I have a 14-year old who can babysit, thank You again Jesus.
The kids and I are memorizing Mary Oliver’s poem “Snow Geese,” and I continue to take my poetry and Scripture memory work on my walks and runs. Getting to exercise is part of staying sane.
I am finding joy in reading aloud to the kids. Cash and I are on Book 3 of Harry Potter. We’ve been reading for half an hour several nights a week just before Cash goes to bed. I’m reading Frances Hodgson Burnett’s A Little Princess to Story, and we both love it. Sailor wants me to read the Felix books by Rosemary Wells over and over. She also loves many Kevin Henkes’ books, especially Julius the Baby of the World, Lilly’s Purple Plastic Purse, Lilly’s Big Day, Chrysanthemum, and Chester’s Way. They are good, good stories, and thoroughly fun to read.
I finally got to do my returns at Athleta and it felt so good to get back the money from several online orders since early December. I don't need more clothes, just books and sunshine.
I made a very low-key list of summer ideas on our kitchen white board with the kids’ input. The list does not stress me out for once because my mantra these days is LOWER THE BAR and CONSISTENT KINDNESS. Neither is my strong suit, but new times call for new approaches. So the “Summer Ideas” list is really just some things we could do someday if we got the notion.
I think we won’t host friends for the lake and dinner nearly as much this summer as we have in past summers, but I feel okay about that. I’m feeling more and more content with it being “just our family” the majority of the time now.
I am processing and in process. I am here. I am alive. I am sometimes good, sometimes bad. I am cooking, cleaning, reading to children, reading to myself, running, sitting in the sun and staring at the lake. Blue herons make me very happy. What else is there?
I hope that eventually I will feel so alive again, but for now, I celebrate simply being here.
