Good heavens--I fell into the holidays and never came out.
Actually, that's truer than I probably realize. I haven't taken time to write in months. I'm sure as things got busier, and winter's shroud covered the daily sunshine, writing was the first to go. It went with all the other "extras" that fill in the cracks of time in my life. But how did it get to be February? And why am I mired in this gray cloud?
I know some of it is the time of year. I don't do winter well. Never have. Some years are worse than others, depending on outside forces as well as natural rythms. The outside forces of winter 2011 are, frankly, rather sucky.
I am a child in the sandwich generation. I guess that means I am in the bologna and cheese of my life. On one side, I have the parents. That's not going well. And I am far enough away to be helpless, but close enough to feel guilty that I'm not traveling I-75 even more than I do. I am so grateful for my brothers and my SIL who take on so much every day. Dad is getting good care, even though the decline is difficult to watch. Mom is struggling, but relieved of the caregiver role she can at least focus her energies on her own health. It is just a case of "screw the Golden Years" and none of us wanted it to progress this way.
On the other side, there are my littles. Not so little anymore, they are making big people decisions, and the time is flying by: College choices, scholarships, housing, career plans. In a few short months I will pack yet another of my dear ones off to Louisville. She'll be excited, challenged, thrilled with her newfound freedoms and friends, and I am so excited to see her getting ready to stretch her wings. But when she flies, a large piece of my heart flies with her. I already feel the emptiness.
I'll most likely have two starting high school next year. One will be able to nurture his love for music ministry and will have opportunities to experience music in places I only dream about. He will also have to be ready for the challenge of high school outside the sheltered school environment he has known so far. AS Dorothy would say "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." I think he will thrive in a place where diversity means more than different hair color, but it will be a new world with plenty to distract him. The youngest will finally see what educational challenge really means. No more coasting along in her own little world, she will need to step up and pull herself together. It will be good for her, but also a terrific life change.
All this is enough. But just for fun, let's throw in a puppy who snuggled himself right into my heart for a few weeks when I was most vulnerable, then went on to a forever home leaving an already fractured heart much the worse for wear. He had just enough medical crises while here to keep stress levels at an all-time high, and now that he is gone, he just leaves us all a bit bewildered and sad. We know he will be loved, and never lonely, and we will see him from time to time, all good things. I just miss the little furry ball of energy!
Life is hard. There is pain. One can realize that others have things much, much worse in life, but that does not take the heartache out of one's own experience every day. I pray, and often fail to pray, and am grateful for the belief that God knows the needs at my lowest and my highest. Some days it's all I can do to take the next step, and I know he'll hold me up whether or not I remember to ask. But I long to see the sun return, figuratively and literally, in my life. I need the light.
