Friday, March 15th, 2019 07:04 am
Written with handwriting-to-text during Thursday's lunch at the picnic table in the orchard

Yesterday in therapy I did some processing about Dad and hiring help for the first week when Mom comes home. Then i talked a bit about feeling like my feelings were below the surface.

At meeting last Sunday the speaker shared thoughts about tears & crying. Succinctly, tears allow releasing stress and clearing the way for action. Cry then act, was the general instruction.

I felt fairly calm and clear through the first months of mom's recovery. Now that we are in a good place with her care, I think I am first most aware of the gap, the space now available to me.

With work I am using space there to plan the June trip - I am preparing now because both work & Mom's care will pickup SOON. ( When? Not sure.)

At home though I haven't really known what to do with myself - more accurately I haven't wanted to do anything with myself.

I think what I need to do is be sad, and I don't know any way other than to writer: SAD. I am sad.

My therapist asked why, prompted meto say I am sad for my father. And that I am. I am sad too that I am aging. I sit here in the orchard and look at the sticks that are young trees. I see the shape they may take in some years. And I see in my parents the shape I and Christine may take.

How much time do I have to feel this before I can say, "Done"?

Well.

The black cherry trees are just getting buds. I hadn't noticed the maplesin the wild corner of the orchard but they too have buds.
Saturday, March 16th, 2019 05:05 am (UTC)
I don't have any insightful response for you but I am wishing you well.
Sunday, March 17th, 2019 11:08 pm (UTC)
For myself, I'm early always been autumnal for over four decades now. I suspect that's not an unusual result of complexity, duty, and sorrow.