posted by Mary Lello, Sunday, February 21, 2010, 4:30 AM
I admit to losing it sometimes. To losing all my patience, my cool, my acceptance. I admit to wanting to scream and throw things ... sometimes at Jim. And I admit to feeling some anger when in the rare moments that I do act less then Saintly towards Jim a friend will look at me with furrowed brow and I want to say "yeah? Well YOU try living this life 24/7, just for a week! I dare you!" ... but of course I don't.
Yesterday was one of those days. There were 2 different directions to go; Jim wanting to attend a Buddhist function and I wanting us to be at a family sheebang. But I knew the importance of the Buddhist gathering for Jim so I launched into trying to make all the different ends tie together and then threw up my hands and realized I just needed to drop the entire ball. And I did. Taking 2 1/2 glorious hours for myself where I reclined on the couch with my book even though the house is trashed, the recycling needed to be taken, and a woodpile sits waiting to be moved into the shed. The house was empty and I just needed to enjoy that.
Sometimes the fatigue takes me headfirst into a brick wall and I need more then 2 hours to regroup. After I picked Jim up at his gathering he said he wanted to go out to Gorham to see all my family who was gathered, and partying, there. So we did. But I was still feeling a bit frazzled so when Jim just stood outside the car staring and saying "hi" rather then moving to the bomb fire I called him "Mr. Slow Molasses!", much to my sisters horror. And when he decided to move inside and kept stopping for no apparent reason to just stand there in the mud I felt my patience drain from me.
So the final straw was around 7:00 p.m. when Jim said he was ready to go home. Great! Me too! And then he asked me "and you?" not just once, but THREE TIMES! I took his shoulders, looked into his eyes and said "YES JIM, I'M READY TO GO! I TOLD YOU THIS!" And my family gave a gasp. All but my mother, she just smiled. OH, and then he had to say good-bye to everyone at least five times making just getting to the door an event similar to the slow release of the disc-thing in the Olympic Curling competition. My mother looked at me and said "go ahead and scream", instead I stomped my feet like a skunk giving it's final warning before releasing it's well-known and dreaded bomb.
My mother understands. More then anyone else, I know she understands. She raised 5 children under the watchful eye of a small town where our father was a God, also known as the pastor of the Congregational Church. The First Lady of the US has nothing on my mothers job during these years to remain calm and serene even when under fire. She gave birth to the last child when she was 40 years old and now faced another 18 years of taking care of one more small being while the other 4 fledged the nest. And then when she was in her fifties my father retired and they moved out from under the intense gaze of that small community and into the house they had built when first married overlooking the open ocean and wide open fields. I believe my mother looked forward to having a few dinners out in the larger town of Portland and maybe even doing some traveling with her husband. But my dad had emphysema and soon after entering retirement my mother was again saddled with caring for someone 24/7 verses being able to take flight and soar free.
When my mother looks at me and says "go ahead and scream" I KNOW she understands exactly how I'm feeling. When she tells me not to worry about feeling sorry for myself or that she knows what it's like to think the world goes on having all kinds of fun without us, I KNOW she gets it!
And today I can feel my patience is back though maybe not my energy. And I can feel my mother's awareness and understanding of what each day asks of me and today this is more then enough.
Loving you all,