Lost and Found

A lost post.... found in my drafts and written a month ago.


I don't know what it is about a quiet day in the back yard, at least my back yard. The sound of the fountain chuckling, the cicada trilling in the trees, and Sarah's incessant chatter only add to feeling that things are how they should be. It isn't a feeling I've been able to hang onto for very long.

The absence of family to fill the yard is a great sorrow. Sarah is the only child who plays here now. Even she feels the emptiness at times, constantly demanding that I "watch" her. Children like an audience, either of their peers or someone they know who likes them. There is little likelihood that this will change. She is five and  will start school on Wednesday. Instead of my family growing it has all but disappeared. There are days when I would almost think I had no children at all. I spend a lot of days wanting to go home but that is no  longer there. They're all dead. Jerry's death left the greatest hole of all, impossible to fill.

I have been contemplating what I should do. More and more I've thought of quitting my job, selling my house  and leaving. I stay the reason we all do, medical insurance. And I have six years before I'll have 20 years  with my employer. I know that the house will be impossible to maintain on my own but the thought of leaving  the last place I was ever happy is painful. I don't want to go but I don't want to stay. There is nothing here but memories and they are marred. There is not much here that makes me happy anymore.

I've been thinking, maybe too much, that the job doesn't matter, the insurance doesn't matter, the house  doesn't matter. Nothing does. It is a depressing thought, yes, but maybe true. I work to live, nothing more and life is no longer much fun. One is forced to reason if that is the case, they why am I doing what I'm doing? I have no answers.

Maybe I'll feel differently after my trip in September. I'm supposed to go to Gatlinburg with my aunt and uncle. I like being around them. They are the youngest 72 year olds I know. They're younger than me, at
least where it counts. We will spend a week at a cabin. There's a hot tub and the RA and fibro will love that. Sitting on a deck looking at the mountains with no one wanting something sounds good.

I keep asking myself if I was ever a positive person. Did I ever do anything but complain and grumble? I'll have to read back over my blog. It goes back to 2005 and surely I haven't always been this much
of a bummer.

Someone ask me how I was this week and I said I'd been having a rough couple of weeks. That's probably an understatement.