Dec. 12, 2002 ~ If it seems
that I am writing about a whole lot of nothing, these days, it's because I am so preoccupied with a whole lot of something, and I can't bring myself to say much about it. It's good when I can stay busy or be around other people. But when I am alone, and I'm often alone... it's hard.
Truth to tell, I can't remember ever being this afraid, really afraid, deep down in the core of my being. And trust me on this... there is absolutely nothing that anyone can say which will help, and it's easy to make me feel worse. People mean well, of course they do. But they call and say things like, "Oh... I just heard on the news..." in a troubled voice, and... my heart... stops. They "hear" the silence or the sharp intake of breath, and panic, apologizing. "Oh, no... NO... I didn't mean..." And go on to say that they heard something about yesterday being the deadline for mailing packages to military personnel and they know he will be upset that they are late. I breathe again, my heart beats, and I laugh. I tell them that he expects nothing, will be grateful for anything, whenever or wherever, and all is well.
I see a lot of troubled people, in my work. I tell them that when everything else feels completely out of their control, it helps to try to concentrate on those things they can control. Even if it's something small, it helps to be able to focus on something positive. So I will try to take my own advice. I will pay the bills, or at least shuffle them around a little. Answer an email or two. And here's a thought... it's about time to mail Christmas cards, so I'd best start addressing them. There are animals to care for, and housework which needs doing, and if I were really, really good, I would exercise. It might help. It could.
But it sure would help to hear from the boy.
All rights reserved
_______________________________