It’s pouring rain and it’s cold, and still I have the window open so my son’s cat can peek out the screen and feel the breeze. My feet are freezing but the cat is happy. This makes me happy.
It’s dark, just after seven in the morning, and I’ve been awake since before five. My coffee doesn’t taste right, (my tastebuds have been shot since this whole thing started), but the cup is warm in my hands. This makes me happy.
My son is asleep, warm and snuggled under the covers. The longer he sleeps, the longer he delays awakening to another day of house arrest. His sleeping makes me happy.
I wonder what we’ll do today. Watch a movie? Play cards? Clean out another closet?
It’s Sunday. Structure doesn’t return until tomorrow when we’ll do his bond mandated “check-in,” and I’ll take him to a job interview during which we’ll both pray no one discovers he’s out on bond. He needs the job to meet the conditions the court has imposed but, if the prospective employer finds out about it, they’re far less likely to hire him.
The situation is its own special kind of hell.
But still. The cat is happy. My son is sleeping. And I made enough coffee for a third, tasteless, cup. There’s a puzzle we can do later and, since we’re both pretty nearsighted and impatient, it should be good for a few laughs.
You’ve got to look for the silver lining, right?
Due to this situation, I’ve been unable to write. Over Labor Day weekend though, I felt the desire to start getting “it” — all the stuff, the pain, the frustration, the fear — out. If you’d like to follow along, you can read the first piece I wrote about it here, and the second one here.
I have no idea how this is going to end. But, five months after it began, I’m feeling the need to share it with you, my friends and readers. It’s a sad topic to be writing about, but it’s so good to be writing again.
Thank you for reading. xo
I think it’s time to get out the lemonade pitcher. You are one darned good Momma!