Pretty soon the sun will come up again. It’s a new day.
When my neighbors realized that I’d stayed home, they invited me to supper last night: barbecued steak and fresh halibut. Eating regular meals helps create the illusion that everything’s okay. I’m finding that I don’t have to be hungry to eat – just put enough food on my plate for everyone to think that I participated in the meal, enough food in my stomach for the meds to not eat a hole. But the fish last night tasted good.
Most of the family came looking for me when they arrived home and I wasn’t in the house. The seven-year-old started running when he saw me, and threw himself into my arms. It’s nice to be missed. It was nearly bedtime when they got home, but traditions are traditions. I usually play a few hands of pinochle with the younger kids before reading a bedtime story, so they changed into pajamas and we sat down to deal. The youngest just snuggled up beside me. No cards for him, he just wanted Mom. Finally I sat in my rocker; he was content to be held and rocked like a much younger child.
There was lots of extra traffic last night – people wanting to miss out of the heavy Monday holiday rush. Seeing how tired my husband was, I’m glad I stayed here.
We survived a whole day apart. The adults know it’s possible, but it was a first for the youngest. Growing up and experiencing new milestones is good. It’s healthy. But it should come naturally, not be forced on us by the RA monster.
