“I Love you” I say through the speaker phone to Jack and Fiona, they are driving in the truck with Alan. A sweet symphony of “I love yous” echos back through the phone. I hang up and cry. They are so sweet, I would die if anything happened to them. I feel so sad. I’m half way through Oliver Stones, “The Untold History of the United States” on Netflix. Maybe I shouldn’t have started watching it. I can’t stop crying. I feel so sad. It’s so depressing. I’m really, really, sad. All those people killed, all the little kids and babies. All the bombs, all the destruction. It’s almost too much pain to imagine. Too much suffering to comprehend. I hate it. I hate war. I hate bombs. When George Bush bombed Iraq that was the first bombs I remember seeing being dropped. I was disturbed and depressed. It was awful and depressing. To learn that, that was just another killing of innocent people in the world done by America in a history of killing and killing and killing of innocent people. It’s really hard to take. I just needed to reach out and express myself today. I am SO SORRY WORLD for what America has done to keep power. I am so very, deeply sorry and ashamed. I feel so sad. Maybe it’s not good for me to watch this show and learn about this awful history that keeps repeating itself over and over again. It makes me understand why a person would set themselves on fire in protest over the non stop killing. Or become a total pacifist, or join a strange cult. It’s hard to have my eyes peeled open and my heart torn from my chest and there’s nothing I can do to help Peace in the world or help anything. I can see why most of the world, those like myself with the luxuries of a safe place to live, money, a good quality of life want to wear rose colored glasses and ignore what’s happening, what’s happened, not want to watch or read about the terrible things that are happening or have happened. I understand as an American wanting to think we are the good ones, we save people, we help people, we can change the world, we can bring peace. But I think “the powers that be” are so engrained in our world, that the course our civilization has set itself on is really one of doom and gloom. I can only love my family, my neighbors, my community, animals, the earth, and try to make up for my countries terrible ways by showing compassion and helping people when I can. Doing the tiny things I may be able to do before I die. I won’t get over this phase of depression ever, not knowing what I know now, thanks Oliver Stone! It will be another sadness deep inside my soul that melds with my own personal tragedies I’ve experienced through my life that never disappear. My optimism will remain, my glass always half full, but I know the truth of things and the suffering of things. That will never change.
Category: motherhood
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I sit on my bed, Thursday afternoon. The house is quiet, Jack and Fiona are asleep. I went to my studio for an hour, painted everything I worked on the other day white. I worked on my notebook pages. I start to cough and feel depressed. The flu can cause depression, I read this on the internet. I decide to come inside, rest. Yesterday I woke up in the morning, my eyes bulging with pain, behind my ears hurt so bad I almost threw up. I called my husband, he could be home by 4:00pm. I had to make it through the day on my own with Jack and Fiona. My legs weak, I had a hard time walking from one location to another as Jack and Fiona called me, “Play with me mommy”. Jack mostly watched T.V. and Fiona stuck by my side all day. While I was still in the process of trying to beat this monster that crept into my body to wreak havoc, I took my vitamins, ate cantaloupe, drank lots of water, and did a kids Yoga video with Fiona. My back, arms, legs so stiff and sore as I went into Childs Pose. Fiona held my hand when we did Tree Pose and airplane. I knew that I was going to recover, I still was scared. I was scared to be alone with my children when I was so sick. I felt myself going into some strange survival mode. As I ate the cantaloupe I felt the juice run down my throat, it felt so nourishing. Fiona and I made a smoothie, she cut the banana, put in the protein powder, turned on the blender, she was so proud.
Last night, after Alan was home, I came down to bed. Fiona wanted to come with me. At first Alan tried to stop her. She cried the kind of cry that shows true disappointment. I said, it’s O.K., she can come with me. “Can I sleep in your bed with you?” Fiona asked. “Yes” I say. My body aches, I can’t get comfortable. Fiona starts to bring animals, horses, the Glass Pig, she brings me pretend food. She talks to me and asks me questions. She doesn’t have her hearing aids on and I’m too tired to talk loud or repeat what I’ve said or use sign. I just say “yes” and “thank you” and that suffices. My bed is soft and cozy. Jack played upstairs with Alan the whole time. Fiona took care of me. It was comforting. I remembered myself alone with the flu. When Fiona was talking to me so much I thought maybe I should have her go, be alone. But I decided to let her stay. I enjoyed her company. I remembered the times I went home from work and jumped in bed. I don’t remember missing anyone to take care of me or keep me company. I thought about the times before Alan and I had kids and he took care of me. I thought about my mom and how she took care of me. My mom died very young and healthy, (except for the massive heart attack). I never had the experience of taking care of an aging parent, but Jack and Fiona will. I think they know intuitively that I will die before them. How depressing am I? Fevers and sickness always remind me of my mortality, of my limited energy. I always get a little bit sad the next day when my fever is gone but I still feel tired but the laundries pilling up and there’s calls to make and e-mails to respond to but I can’t.
Jack and Fiona will be up soon from their nap. I hope to be a good mom and wife tonight, to cook a nice dinner and not stress. Be fully present and available. Every moment counts.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 