Here Comes My Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown (Yet Again)

Mr. Moon has been keeping so many plates spinning at once lately. It's ridiculous. As he keeps saying- it's a good thing he's retired or he wouldn't be able to do it all. Some of it is just regular life like taxes and insurance and car maintenance, and some of it has been out of the ordinary stuff like selling the property on Dog Island and helping Lily find a house and dealing with situations at our rental property. It's been a lot. His phone never stops ringing. And of course he's been working on his old Camaro and trying to figure out problems he's having with the brakes and he's been putting a whole lot of work into the garden. 
I don't know how the man does it. 
If I get the laundry done and supper on the table I figure I've done a day's work. Well, that's not entirely true but you know what I mean. He's been bemoaning the fact that he had planned on doing a lot of river fishing this last winter and spring and hasn't done any except for the little trip he took with Jessie and her boys. He's been talking about going to the river by himself, launching the kayak, and putting his line in the water. That is his idea of heaven. And floating down one of our rivers here is indeed a sort of heaven. 
So yesterday when he started talking about it again, I said, "You need to just go. Go tomorrow. It's supposed to be pretty," and he finally said, "I think I will."
And he did. I am so glad. He needs that peace and serenity desperately. 

And it has been a pretty day. Yesterday's rain washed everything clean again and I have not seen so much as one cloud in the sky all day. 

It has been cool and a bit breezy and I imagine that it's been a fine day on the river. I haven't heard from him and I'm glad of that. I don't want him even thinking about anything here. I want him to just be on the water, watching the birds, the trees, the turtles and probably alligators. I want this blue-sky day to soothe his heart and soul. 

I, on the other hand, went back to town to get the things I need for our family's Easter picnic. I think this was a brilliant suggestion of Lily's- to have a plain old picnic at a park in the woods where the kids can hunt eggs and the adults can sit around and be lazy and for once, not worry about the damn food so much. I'm going to bake and slice a ham and take rolls and bread for sandwiches. I'm also taking smoked salmon for those who do not eat pig and also for those who just like smoked salmon and really, who doesn't? So I bought those two things at the Costco as well as sliced cheese for the sandwiches. I'll take mustard and mayonnaise and Miracle Whip and sliced tomatoes and lettuce and I'll bake a challah for bread and I've bought crackers for the smoked salmon although it just occurred to me that I did not buy any cream cheese but oh well. I'll probably go to that fucking Dollar General and get some. 

When I was at Costco I almost ran into a cart and apologized but then realized that the person pushing that cart had almost run into mine and it was Kevin! The guy who used to work in the liquor store whom everyone loves. Oh, what a hug I gave him! He looks so good! 
"You staying happy?" I asked him. And the way he answered left no room for doubt. His smile was as big as the sky. 

So that was lovely and then dammit, I got to talking to the woman who was working in the liquor store today (that Tito's doesn't buy itself) and she'd just gotten back from a trip to Jamaica that she'd taken with her mother. I told her that I surely wished that I'd had that sort of relationship with my mother and she proceeded to tell me how much she loves her mama and how very close they are. That she is the best friend this woman has ever had. 
And before you know it, I was fucking crying. Right there in the Costco liquor store. I wasn't sobbing but tears were escaping from my eyes and I told that woman that yes, she is lucky, but that her mother is very, very lucky too. 

It doesn't help that I am at the tail end of listening to that book, A Place for Us, which is basically the story of a father who lost his son due to not knowing how to love him because of the many reasons that a parent may not know how to love a specific child and these things were on my mind. 

I'm just a mess. I might as well be premenstrual or pregnant or postpartum or menopausal or post-menopausal or any one of the hundreds of different phases a woman goes through in her life due to hormones and changing life situations. I thought that at least one benefit of older age would be that I would find myself in a more stable and less transitory space when it came to emotions but it does not seem to be true. 
At least for me. 

And then I went to Publix and got the kids some silly Easter stuff and things to make a vegetable soup. Glen told me that he planned to stay on the river until sunset and so I really don't know when he'll be home for his supper. I figured that soup would be good as it can be ready whenever he is. I came home and got the laundry off the line and picked some greens and carrots and I've made a huge pot of soup because that's the only size I can apparently make. 

A guy at the church next door is running a leaf blower and I swear I will lose what small amount of my mind I have left if he doesn't stop soon. My god, there's hardly anything to clear over there. This is the time of day when there should be peace and sleepy bird call, not that horrid sound that I can't even describe beyond it sounding like a trillion man-made mosquitoes, all riding Harley Davidsons, invading my head.

I'll try to be more cheerful tomorrow, okay? 

Love...Ms. Moon