Can I really have two terrible, awful, horrible day in a row?  

Perhaps.

Just a bit of it yesterday was my fault for not going with my gut, but really . . . 

So, Thursday, I had the morning to myself and I planned to garden.  Rain.  So, the house was really dirty so I cleaned.  I stripped beds, shook out rugs to be washed, and piled Julia’s camping stuff, including sleeping bag, by the washer to be washed.  Then I went upstairs to start in my room.  I tripped on the blanket on my bed but caught myself on the door, jamming my left hand into the door, dropping everything in my hands, scaring the cat who jumped into the window with a crack (that was going to be fixed next Monday).  The window broke showering the bed and Julia’s stuffed dinosaurs with glass.  

I took a few deep breaths -- The thought I am working with this week for meditation class is patience and thus, the breaths -- and laid down on the non-glass strewn part of the bed.  After a few minutes, I got up and started cleaning.  During the day, I bumped into everything that I could and knocked over anything that could fall to the floor.  I still have the aches and pains of the day in my hands and elbows and knees and back and one ankle.  It was as if, I was traveling a few seconds off the rest of the world or my coordination was tilted.  In the afternoon, after attachment therapy, I dropped Julia off at home and went to pick up a few grocery things and found myself knocking over what was next to what I was picking up.  

When I got home, I went to check on the wash, and found a flood in basement.  I have a pipe that leaks when spring rain is at its worst.  It is on the to-do list  and almost budgeted for, but even when it leaks, the water usually drains quickly in the main house drain with no real problem.  However, the main drain pipe was backed up.  I didn’t know this for awhile and tried to scoop up some of the water and put it into the sink by the washer until I realized that when I put water into the sink it would come up from the drain.  And it was too late to call a plumber.  

I shoved a pizza in the oven to avoid any use of cooking utensils and Julia and I ate and went to bed without further incident.  And I held onto sanity.

Whew!

So, Friday morning, I called a few plumbers and decided to go with the one that neighbors had recommended.  I had some misgivings about him when we spoke on the phone -- just did not sound responsible, but his price was the best and I had the recommendation. He was supposed to show up at 10:30 and when I called at 10:50, his voice mail was full and I couldn’t leave a message.  I was due at Waisman at noon, and was stressing out.  I finally called the plumber closest to me.  They came at 12:20, I let them in, showed them the problem, gave them the keys and asked them to lock up and put the key in the mailbox.  A bit crazy, I know, but I needed to leave.  

I came home at 4:30 and everything was fine.  I ran another wash and took a shower.  No flood.  

So, it was 1.5 terrible, awful, rotten days, and that was all.

Friday night, I had respite time but no one to do some Friday night activity with and so I took myself to the movies and popcorn and a beer.  The movie was good but more than that.  As I walked out of the theater and to my car, I had the feeling of milestone.  Of chrysalis.  I have not arrived.  I am not happy or joyful or content, but I have found strength.  I am someone else than who I was.  Right after David died, I held the image of going into free fall and trusting (and hoping) that angels would catch me.  I have been falling for almost three years. Tonight, for a time, I felt the bounce, the big in-breath of relief that being caught allows you to take.  I almost didn’t know myself.  I was surprised.

And I would say that during the afternoon as I watched the first year LEND students finish and graduate from the program, some ideas formed in my head for next year.  I have to talk to my mentor next week about them and I know that I will be shot down some and discouraged, but I cannot shake the feeling that it is important that I am there.  Not big, incredible important, but important all the same.  After our graduation, I was talking to one of the mentors who I like but haven’t spent much time with this year and she told me about some of her work and mentioned that she had been at it since 1985.  Something washed over me.  I have been trying to run with those who have been doing their work for a long, long time.  If I can keep up for a few paces, I am succeeding.  When I step back from my angst and worry, I have gratitude for this privilege of being there and being listened to.  Not all the time.  Some of the time and some people.  

Another day.