I noticed that I’d been tired the past couple of days.
The first day, I attributed it to teacher fatigue.
On the second day, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I was being lazy.
This morning, I woke after sleeping in until 9 a.m. My typical sleep-in time is 7 a.m. I was ten minutes away from giving myself a talking to. You know, one of those “pull it together, girl” talks.
But it never happened, because I noticed my arm hurt. Lo and behold, I had a rash the size of my bicep.
All the events fell into place to form a plausible explanation. My body was fighting off something. To allocate resources I slept.
The rash is red, swollen, and hot. My logical mind said Cortizone, Benadryl, and rest.
The touchy-feely side of me said, “Randy, touch it.”
Randy got the Cortizone and held it out for me at arm’s length. He wasn’t touching it.
Both our reactions made me laugh. I didn’t really want him to touch it, so why did I ask?
I recalled all the times our children came to us after they bumped their heads or knees. I kissed them. The painful grimace gave way to an appreciative grin. My acknowledgment validated their pain. Yes, it really happened. That’s all they needed to joyfully go back to playing. Their bodies handled the healing.
This got me thinking…
My friends in the southern states, For the past week I have wished in earnest there was a way I could swoop in and rescue you from the weather system that has wreaked all kinds of mayhem. If you go through the archives, you’ll see posts about frozen pipes, melting snow, being stranded in school, and all that you experienced. I remember being on edge for days. My heart hurt with and for you.
Subsequent updates with your responses to the events inspired me. People shared the innovative ways they coped. Others posted how neighbors pulled together. In with the “oh my” stories, my friends are starting to tell humorous anecdotes.
I’m too far away to be able to stop in and help you repair a frozen pipe, or shovel snow off of your porch. I can do is send you a virtual hug. Kind of like my husband with the Cortizone. (Do you see what I did there?)
When you feel this hug make sure to embrace the I’m sorry for the days of stress, and the warmth that fosters healing.
I’ll close this week’s post with wishes that you remember that even when we are quiet, there are people out here in the world hoping for good things for you.
All of my family and childhood friends are in Texas. It has been hard this last week on me, knowing how hard it’s been on them.
My prayers and texts to them was the only thing I could do for them. Thank you for taking time to acknowledge and care.