Maybe Butts and Ashes isn’t my “book” after all. Maybe it’s just a chapter. Even this idea makes me mad today. I had things figured out for once. I was going to finally get all those things I had meant to write down written down. I had plenty of time. My dad gave me daily material. It was going to be great. Well, it’s not so great right now. It sucks.
I don’t feel clever or witty or anything good only tired. I feel sad and disappointed and angry. I am not really sure who I am angry with but I have a sneaking suspicion it might be myself. I have been accused in the recent past of having empty nest syndrome. I can assure you this is not even close to the truth … in the normal sense of the term anyway. Six of my seven children have flown the coop and I am ready for the seventh to do the same someday. I like seeing my children independent and happy, standing on their own two feet.
I think I am feeling something worse than child-free. I think I am feeling butt free. I have run out of old people to care for. The older generation of this family appears to now include me. What the heck? When did this happen because I am not liking it one single bit. I have spent the greater part of my adult years caring for someone older. Now what? Several well-meaning people have said to me in the last few days, “Now it’s time to take care of you.” I have no idea what that even means. Maybe that is why I feel so angry with myself. How can you live in a body for fifty-one years and not understand how to take care of it? How is it possible to go through life for five decades and not ever figure out who you are or what you need to feel really taken care of by yourself? Maybe my sisters are right. Maybe I do need medication and therapy.
I have a great life. I have a husband that adores me and is my very best friend ever. I have awesome kids and wonderful grandchildren. I have some of the most amazing family members and friends a person could ever hope for. I live in a beautiful place surrounded by my beloved animals. I have more than most and more than I deserve. So what’s to be unhappy about?
Ok, I think I have now officially slipped from anger to full blown feeling sorry for myself mode. Somebody, please slap me.
8 comments:
I'm sorry, but I still see and hear clever and witty. I'm pretty sure you know you are not alone in this journey and your cries are being heard loud and clear. So what if you have empty nest, or need drugs, or therapy. You are following you journey with honesty and integrity, where ever it takes you and you are blessed with a multitude of witnesses. You have not shrunk back from the pain and agony that accompany loving and serving with your whole heart. I'm sure if you need an epidural you will get it. It's there for you if you need it. If not then, "this too shall pass." I am proud of you! lovingly, Dianna
I can hear that older generation still....Get off the Pity Pot....Pull yourself up by the bootstrings.....Buck up....Catch those tears we might need the water someday....Marla it will come all in it's own time. They are watching down on all of us.
In on sense there is no death
The life of a soul on earth lasts beyond its departure.
You will always feel that life
touching yours, that voice
speaking to you, that spirit
looking out of others eyes,
talking to you in the familiar
things he touched, worked with,
loved as familiar friends. He
lives on in your life and in the
lives of all others that knew him.
-Angelo Patre
Hugs my dear cousins Marla, Kelly and Charlene. Love ya Cher
OOps forgot the e on one.
In one sense....Hope you got sleep tonight.
“The prospect of so weighty a work, [in your case, Marla, that would seem to be finding a new vocation] brought me very low, and such were the conflicts of my soul that I had a near sympathy with the prophet, in the time of his weakness, when he said: "If thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray thee, if I have found favour in thy sight" (Num. xi. 15). But I soon saw that this proceeded from the want of a full resignation to the divine will. Many were the afflictions which attended me, and in great abasement, with many tears, my cries were to the Almighty for His gracious and Fatherly assistance, and after a time of deep trial I was favoured to understand the state mentioned by the Psalmist more clearly than ever I had done before; to wit: "My soul is even as a weaned child" (Ps. cxxxi. 2).
“Being thus helped to sink down into resignation, I felt a deliverance from that tempest in which I had been sorely exercised, and in calmness of mind went forward, trusting that the Lord Jesus Christ, as I faithfully attended to Him, would be a counsellor to me in all difficulties….” John Woolman
Hang in there, kid. Love ya!
it may take a while to get used to it, but i do agree that it's time to take care of yourself. take a cruise with the hubby. you may like not taking care of anyone but you. :)
Marla - I talked to Kelly on Tuesday and she told me about your dad. I'm sorry. I wanted you to know that I was thinking about you and your sisters and how very fortunate you are to have the bond you do. And to have had the relationship you did with both your parents. They were both unique and remarkable people whose impact when further than they probably knew.
Cleaning helps me clear the head. At least temporarily. When that doesn't work, I find a Snickers Dark, and only a the dark kind, not the regular - works wonders.
{{hugs}} Nicole
Dianna ~ You are so good for me. I love you!
Cher ~ Thanks for the kick in the pants. Love you and can't wait to see you.
Diane ~ Thank you for the beautifully, encouraging words. I am glad we are friends and I love you.
Sarah ~ Thank you for being so encouraging through this all. I appreciate your kindness and I think you are right. I need a cruise!
Nicole ~ What an awesome gift to find you here. Wouldn't you know we both have to have the Snickers dark. Probably has something to do with our dark personalities. Love you, Nicole!
yes, you are a very clever and witty writer. i'm very glad that you kept going and writing.
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