Sunday thoughts

Warning: photos unrelated to text.



I apologize for being somewhat absent here.
I am struggling, it seems, with my reality.
Don't we all do that on occasion??
I hope it's not just me.

First off, there's the pain...blahblahblah....and I am working around that.  It's getting better.  But I try to be conscious of the trauma that my neck muscles have been through not once, but twice, in seven months.  It's gonna take some time.  The physical therapy is great, and I am using heat, and exercising, and doing as I am told.
Amazing.
I am also listening to my body, which can be quite verbal.  I walk Roy every day, because he needs it and so do I.  But I'm working my way up to really LONG walks....not there yet.  Neck says NO.

I know that most of you, and most everyone else, has no clue how hard their neck muscles work on a daily basis.
Holy mackerel.
I do.  Oh, yes, I do.
I am trying to be patient and obliging, as I see no other recourse.

I am hoping and dreaming of the day when I can do more and have less pain.   I believe.
And of course, I know that my affliction pales in comparison to so many others; people who have lost limbs, who have lost loved ones.

The new dobby loom is sitting there patiently.  I got the new weight for the cloth storage beam in the mail from AVL.  I want (desperately) a sectional beam for it, as I am a sectionally warped kind of girl.  But we are going to put a regular warp on it from the warping board, so I can TRY it out, and then do the sectional beam at a later date.  But definitely, it is on my radar.
I am starting to wind the warp.   A little at a time.  Neck says so.  A little today, more tomorrow.

It is sometimes a "Sydney says" kind of day, but now it is a "NECK says" kind of day.


How times change.

I am grateful though, to be strong enough to do this at all.  I know, that I am fortunate, and that it could be very different.
Part of me is proud, sometimes too much.
But I want my daughters to look back and say, "Mom gave it her best shot.  She didn't let circumstances get her down, she kept moving forward, and she kicked ass."
Is that wrong of me to want that?
I think partly I feel that way, because my own mother is so different.

My mother gets up in the morning, and defines herself and the rest of her day by how bad she feels.
She has arthritis everywhere, so of course, she wakes up stiff and with some pain.  And nothing I say about the need to get moving is considered relevant.
Of course, by noon, she is fine, walking around, no more groaning and whingeing. (yes, whinge is a word, it's an English thing)
To whinge:  Complain persistently and in a peevish or irritating way.

But by then she has wasted a great deal of her day, and her energy, and her brain space.  And it's hard to turn it around mentally.
And while I know that this is my mother at 89, and that age has impaired her thinking and her personality a great deal, the truth of the matter is that she was the same way when I was growing up.
She was a bear in the morning.
Maybe not in pain, but even in her 30's, she woke up with an attitude.  So much, in fact, that when I was 10 or 11, I told her to stay in bed, I was fine to get up and get myself off to school without her.
She was elated, and sad to say, so was I.
It is just as distressing to be around her in the morning now, as it was then.

I wish I didn't have to see her until noon, and that makes me feel so bad.  But it's the truth, unvarnished.  I love her, and I know she won't live forever, but to be around her when she wakes up is painful to me on more levels than I can explain.
The other truth is that my mother has been depressed for 20 years.  And only took meds for a few months........they were lovely months, by the way.  She refused to take them after that.  It's been her downfall.

I want to always see the bright side of things, I want to always nurture hopefulness, and a positive outlook.  I don't ever want to give in to misery.
I want to stay interested in life until my last day of it, at whatever level I am capable of.
And I've already told my three daughters, if I get depressed, and all three of you tell me that I am, bring on the meds.  No problem.
Because I've seen the alternative.

I think this whole head and neck experience for me has been illuminating.  It has made me see the inevitable changes that take place as we get older, as we move through our lives.
I know I won't always be able to do the things that I have loved.  It's happening already.  But there are still so many things that I want to experience.  There is always something to see, something to read, something to do, family to love.
I want to be present, in my heart, for all of it.  ALL OF IT.