As I sit here in the wee hours, unable to sleep, I am remembering. Where does all the time go? I find myself day dreaming more as I grow ever older. A flash of a memory will capture my attention, most often just a whisper in my ear that will bring a smile to my heart. Sometimes lingering awhile, it might follow me through my day.
Night dreams are more intense. They can ruin my day, the memory of an unsettling dream. Other times I will wake with intense joy to be alive as happy memories flood my waking hours. It is good to remember both the good and the bad, I suppose. You wouldn't have one without the other. I wonder if this is where all those mantras we give each other come from. You know the ones I mean. When one door closes, another opens. If it was meant to be, it was meant to be. Don't cry over spilt milk.
Days go on and life happens all around us. We have good days and we have bad days. We grumble and complain about all the little irritants life presents more often than we express gratitude for all the good life offers. We find it easier to complain than be thankful.
For the past several days I have been annoyed. Every little irritant magnified beyond what it should be. Maybe it is the constant headache I am besieged with, along with all my aches and pains that come with growing old. Just as many reasons for a smile come my way and I strive to be more aware of those.
The feeling of satisfaction upon completing a task goes along with sore muscles. The soft fur of my dogs' ears as I pet them. The limp, sleeping puppy on my lap. The same puppy that just peed on my floor. The sweet smell of freshly laundered sheets blowing on the line in the sunshine. Bounce will never reproduce that particular smell. The same sheets I had to remove from the bed after I heaved the fat cat to the floor. Ying and yang, some might say.
Life and death. Happens every single day. You go along assuming it won't touch you, forgetting that it is destiny. You hear about the deaths of friends loved ones and you momentarily feel a pang of grief for their loss. If you know them well, the grief will be yours as well. No matter if you are expecting it, it is always a shock.
My very first playmate in life would seem to be approaching her date with destiny. I was blissfully unaware of this until this morning. I had no idea she was even sick. My sister will become another statistic of COVID. Either way, she will be counted among the victims. If she responds and wakes, or if she doesn't, still a number to add to the ever growing list of those affected by COVID.
I will delay my trip south to get my second dose of the vaccine tomorrow, then load the RV while HeWho attends to an electrical issue in the park. This is not the trip I wanted to take. But, take it I must.
We had different views, my sister and I. We grew apart and became "polite" with each other, not able to find common ground. But when all is said and done, she was my sister. My one and only sibling. I would love nothing more than to have a big noisy argument with her right now. I keep hoping my phone will ring and my nephew will tell me her status has improved. I will still go, as she would come to me. I prefer to argue face to face, you know.
Knowing there is absolutely nothing I can do, other than pray is humbling. I don't know what to ask for, I don't know what she wants. We never talked about it, what she would prefer in her currant situation. I feel helpless and incredibly sad. My mother died suddenly, out of the blue, totally unexpected. My dad wasted slowly away and it still hit with the same intensity. You would think we would have talked about our own deaths more, but we didn't.
My first friend, my protector, my antagonist, my cheer leader and at times my enemy. My sister that I love for all her goodness and all her flaws, just like she loved me. I am just so very sad.