I have been listening to Debbie's play list today. Reading books and drinking tea and turning over once in awhile. I brushed my hair that needs a shampoo but didn't wash it. My huge contribution today was making a pot of soup. The hunny is now down with the crud and his sympathies are so much more empathetic; he is miserable.
After a week in the bed I don't feel better. If I don't go to work Monday I may lose my job. Nobody has a job for 4 weeks and then misses two! It was bad enough to miss one. I think this, as I pull off another sweat soaked nightgown. Asthma has always caused that in me. No one knows why. I don't have TB or pneumonia or even any bacterial infection. I just get the sweats when I'm sick. I fall asleep and soak the bed. It only happens if I sleep. Some ancient healer in the Appalachian mountains would know more. Some root or berry to make a tea, or a plaster, some remedy of the Earth that actually does work.
Invariably days of bed rest bring about too much time on my hands kind of thinking. Too many questions and too many thoughts and the spiral down begins. I realized today that one of the very big difference in my husband and I is that I have always had dreams and ideas, and he does not, and never has. I have always wanted to live in the country, on a small self sustaining farm. I wanted to raise orphans, chickens, and have cats and dogs. I had hoped to plan days around the making of fine pie crust and a good loaf of bread. The harvesting of apples, the plans and jobs that revolve around the seasons of the year in the country.
My husband grew up in that life. He has all that knowledge. When he uses a hoe it is like magic to see the earth change and form under the skill in his hands. He was not happy then. His father never conveyed love to him. His father worked hard and drank hard. My husband left that world behind with no wish to return to it ever. All the skills he has that I admire, the ones I wish he'd teach us while he is living. It is not going to happen. He is 70 now and I am 53. There will never be the country place. There is no escaping the necessity of a job to pay for the life style that is here, where we are right now.
This is the place of reality. There are two girls to give life and hope too. My little house on the cul de sac is not on a farm, there are no chickens. The husband does not want a dog again. The memory of the big black dog brings tears to my eyes and a wrench to my gut that will never go away. The husband does not understand those feelings as he does not know dreams. I cannot hold that against him. It's just what is.
When the heart despairs the secret is to praise God. When I am feeling darkest and the least hopeful I begin with the smallest things. Thank you for my nice bed. Thank you that I made soup today, and the food was here. Thank you for making the garden pretty. Thank you for a lap top. Thank you for a beautiful play list with no commercials. Thank you for giving me the understanding to recognize the differences and not be angry. Thank you for hope for tomorrow. Thank you for those who do live the lives I have dreamed of and share their joy that I can partake of it and relish it. Even as I prepare to go into corporate America where I have never longed to be. Thank you Lord for your daily love.
11 comments:
i so agree with your post... having a hubby who is a good bit older poses some issues you never consider (not that I woudl trade my 17 yrs older then me hubby for anyone or anything)
I cooked sasuage biscuts and milk gravy for lunch so supper will probably be something simple like hot dogs ... I am getting hungry so wont be too long until i hunt something down!
Hope you get to feeling better... I am a night /sleep sweater when ill too... or when my blood sugar is out of whack i wake up soaked in sweat.
HUGSSSSSS
martha is spending the weekend with Shaniquia and her mom and sister and sisters friends... they leave tomorrow so I am sure martha will be down for a while... told her if she stays doing so well I will drive her the 3 hours to where they will be (the girls) while mom is in IRAQ so she can see Shaniquia ... 6 months seems like an eternity to these kids.
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This is one of the most beautiful posts I have read about not getting what you want and deciding it's okay. I feel your longing. I grew up in a tiny--150 people--town in Utah and now I am in a subdivision--which, actually I love--but often I look out the back door and wish to see a few chickens, scratching in the lawn or a huge garden instead of our small one. I long for the days of having a huge lot so you could actually get away from the house and responsibilities and have some solitude. But, my cousin now owns the home I grew up in and I am so happy to have her there.
How wonderful that you are a girl of gratitude. I think gratitude is more important than we ever realized. Like even maybe even a commandment so you will be doubly blessed for your thankful heart.
And may you get well. Finally. Completely.
I loved this, you are content with life...the way it is and are accepting of it. That is so important, most folks never get there. I admire you for that and please get better already!
OK, Love the mourning snowmen. LOL! Your post was beautiful. Accepting where we are in life is the first step to accepting where we are in life. I'm glad you are resting. Get well and God bless.
My day was spent in bed pretty much all day. I wasn't fighting off physcial sickness though,,as for dinner, hubby did that for us. I have those dreams also. There is NO way Randy wants it. He is similar to your husband, no dreams. Just content with what he has, don't expect more. Like your hubby, my husband came from a very abusive home.sigh. God is good though,and cares for us! Karen, your post was exactly what I needed this morning. too much time on my back last night and thoughts rambling, and woke up this morning with those thoughts starting again..spent time in my prayer corner, on my knees, than the computer...God KNEW I needed this..to be encouraged in thankfulness, and to keep my eyes on Jesus. I love you precious one. You are a blessing!
I'm sorry you are still unwell.... and never give up on your dreams cos you never know what is around the next corner of life.
Glad you enjoy my playlist. : )
Let those dreams go the same way you would let a butterfly free from the net -- let it go and watch it dance around spreading beauty for all to see. Butterflies may be gone for a season but they always return to a beautiful garden.
Hope you get better REAL SOON!
And thank you, Karen, for a very honest post.
Oh you sweet woman, this post touched me probably more than anything else you've written to date. You know, the farm dream is not gone, it just has to be re-invented. I think you can find ways to do that-- maybe a weekend in your ideal setting? Maybe you could begin a novel and set yourself in that setting. I just know the feeling you're facing, and I'm saying, don't give up. There are ways to feed your dreams.
lol i'm such a blond... I had to look at that funny three times before I understood it... and now I am swiping it for my blog!
Hi I'm DaNella.
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