There was a moment on Friday night, in which I got pretty darn close. After a very fun and successful Passover Seder, and following a hard week – smack dab in the middle of another virus within the family – I felt strong again. We put the kids in their pajamas before leaving Grandma’s house at night after dessert, and they both fell asleep within minutes in the car. Actually, I must explain the power of Des. He really wanted to see Christmas lights so he stayed awake at first. With it being early April, I wasn’t sure he’d get his wish. He totally did. Two houses and even a bar in downtown Middle-Of-Nowhere had a really nice Christmas tree and lights display. In early April. Well if the shoe fits, New England. And this shoe does fit.
After joyously yelling, “Lights!” Both kids fell asleep. We got home in silence and both carried a kid inside and snuggled them into bed, and then we both bid goodnight and snuggled the kid we hadn’t carried to bed from the car. They stirred.
Then I felt really good and I felt really solid and I felt really happy, until a catfight outside in the middle of the night made my heart pound. It made my breath shorten. I didn’t have an anxiety attack, and I didn’t even think that being unsettled by coming out of a deep sleep to the yowling sounds of cats is unusual, but something in the sound and the heart pound made me remember what is still tangled up inside. There are still conflicting feelings and choices to make and things to work on.
That doesn’t mean I can’t feel fantastic about what I have accomplished in the last tough month, and what I have accomplished in the last tough year. I have pretty much broken myself open, if only to feel more solidly put back together.
Even though I still feel stale and exhausted a lot, and not quite recovered from my consistent work projects. Even though viruses still ravage the kids and threaten us. Even though my writing and photography have been somewhat put on the back burner, and I’ve been trying to do other things that don’t make me sparkle as much. I can still celebrate. I can still take an hour to myself to upload some sunny farm photos. I can still celebrate how far I’ve come, and how much warmth and solidity is in my near future. Let them all eat cake, I say. Even if you’re trying to cut down on sugar because it makes you exhausted.