In the Waiting Room…

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We have made it to the hospital, checked my daughter in, sat for a few in the waiting room, then hugged each other before for they took her back. I have to admit that a part of me is a bit nervous about this all. Everything should go great but… Well, there are those tiny possibilities that always like to make themselves known as loudly as they can so one can sit and do battle with them while they wait for their loved one to come out of surgery.

I have done three tarot readings, via my phone, and they each seemed to be messages for me and not about my daughter, which is what my focus is. I guess the ancient wisdoms are being held back from me on this one. Deep breaths. Everything will be just fine. It has to be.

I’m feeling a bit out of sorts, again, this morning. The surgery, of course, has me worried a little bit (probably more than I am letting myself know), and, since I stayed at my daughter’s last night, I am not getting to go through my morning ritual. I miss my plants. They are so soothing for me in the morning and gently carry me from barely awake to ready to take on my day. At least, that is what I tell myself and have made myself believe by having most summers include a garden.

Is it just me or am I sounding negative? I’m having a hard time finding my joy, I guess. I’m tired, emotionally tapped, not in my comfort zone, and too much is incomplete in my world right now. Maybe I am needing to just let myself scream at the top of my lungs at the sky until I can no longer feel the damages of the past few months or so.

I’ve cried. Oh how I have cried, from the depths of my soul, against my will, and without the ability to make it stop. Truman gave me that.

I think I would like to be a caterpillar. If I were a caterpillar, I could make myself a strong, safe cocoon where I could rest, heal from life’s challenges, and emerge light as a feather and able to fly. I’m feeling like the heaviest of stones right now.

I just re-read that. I guess one could say it is a suicidal statement, though I do not mean it as one. I have no desire to die, just rest for a minute, recharge, process some of the larger happenings, then get up and face life once again without the cement on my feet. I’m just so tired.

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