Ugh

Two lovely, sunny, late summer days with very cool overnight temperatures.  The days were gorgeous, although the sun wasn’t especially warm.  Fall is just a few days away officially, but we’re promised more sunny days until the weekend, when we’re starting autumn.  I always have a preference for summer, particularly late summer, with all the fresh produce!  Jerry is right now glaring as the cleaner is working on the floors… he doesn’t like the vacuum and would be chasing it and barking, except that he has his training collar on, and it buzzes when he does things he’s not supposed to do.  He just needs to see it, not even wear it, to respond.  Don is still not doing well, and is in quite a bit of pain so that sitting, standing and walking are all difficult for him to manage.  His appetite is very good, so that’s not a concern at least!  But he was improving yesterday, then today it took a small step back.  It’s frustrating, as you can imagine, but things don’t magically disappear when you want them to go. The small people continue to improve slowly.  It’ll take a little while before they’re fully back to themselves, but there is progress.  

I don’t know why, but I’ve barely been able to stay awake the last 2 days, but at night I can’t fall asleep.  Even when I force myself to stay awake until my regular bedtime to keep a regular sleep schedule.  What is also annoying are the cough, which disappeared on Monday, returned Tuesday night, keeping me uncomfortable for an extra hour, and has disappeared again today, and the waves of nausea that suddenly appeared.  It’s inexplicable that I’m dealing with the nausea (worse, really, with the cough) out of seemingly nowhere.  I’ve been taking my anti-nausea meds, so it’s just that I have the waves but I’m not physically throwing up.  Of note also is that I am getting hungry quite often and then lightheaded.  Maybe my appetite is growing faster than I’d realized?  Last night I headed in to bed around 7:30pm, I slept off and on until almost 11, then was awake and trying to sleep until about 4.  So frustrating and tiring!

For some reason, I remembered that old book All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten; I’d bought a copy — everyone I knew had bought one, I think — and I remember enjoying it.  It talked about the key life lessons that get taught in kindergarten, like sharing, taking breaks, making friends, etc.  I don’t remember all of it in detail and I don’t know what made me think of it after 30-odd years.  But I did.  And another thought, from a priest I knew popped in and they meshed.  Fr. Brennan, who passed away a few weeks ago, had often spoken to me about the image of God as a parent.  He said that although the Bible refers to God as a loving father our understanding of what that means comes from our own experiences.  Someone with abusive parents, then, would never be able to appreciate the analogy as they associate parents with suffering.  I realized that my image of God comes from my maternal grandmother more than anyone else, and was reinforced by her family.  I never knew my paternal grandparents, as my dad’s mom died when he was quite young, and his father long before my birth.  My maternal grandfather also died before my mother’s birth, so he’s just a photo to me; my grandmother’s husband was “Grampa.”  Between them, they demonstrated what a loving parent was like.  Making sure that we were safe, cared for, well fed, educated, etc., and then giving us enough freedom to make mistakes.  I think sometimes that she was very old-fashioned (not surprising, as she was born in the early 1900s and came of age shortly after WWI) but other than those ideas, she was the most wonderful little woman ever.  I spent a lot of time with her, so she was my parental figure and I emulated her as much as I could.  She showed me that there’s more to life that we can seek from the narrow allowance we have.  I’m not, nor have I ever been, comfortable with the idea of God as a watcher, totting up my good and bad deeds and just waiting for a chance to toss me into hell.  The way I came to understand was that I’d always find support when I needed it, that I’d be loved and forgiven, and there’s nothing so horrific that I wouldn’t be forgiven if I were genuinely repentant and worked to make amends for it.  Which do you prefer?

I’m falling asleep again, and I just realized that I’m writing incoherently so I’m going to wrap up and head in to bed.  Good night.