Sunday, September 24, 2017

Do You Do This?

The potato salad is made and sprinkled generously with paprika and the records and record player are wrapped. I am going to give Owen the records first to string the surprise out a little bit. The dishwasher is chugging merrily along and the chickens are talking about their eggs. Mr. Moon is on his way home and it is a beautiful day and soon I will get out my knife and cutting board and prepare the salad bar vegetables in bowls to cover and take.

What could be more delightful than having a sweet birthday party with family and friends for my first grandchild on a mild and lovely September day?

Not much.

And yet.

I woke up with the familiar stomach-roil and dread of anxiety.

I hate this. I hate it. A day that will be as simple and sweet as a day can be and instead of greeting it with appropriate anticipation, I am struck almost shaky with, well, if not dread than at least dread's younger, less lethal cousin.

It occurs to me that I have spent most of my life fighting or just falling into these feelings and that they have stolen so much joy from me. I used to think that it was all temporary. That at some point, these emotions would go the way of the dinosaur, leaving me to enjoy the simplest things that I deserve to enjoy, just as any human does. Now I realize that like the dinosaurs, my fears and anxiety and depression will not really ever depart even though they may grow much smaller and more manageable the way a chicken is far smaller and more manageable than a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

But I am quite sure that just as these things will always be with me, I will manage to get through them. I may need a nap before this day is over but I will be so glad to have gone, to have witnessed Owen's happiness at having a party and getting presents, to have seen my children and my grandchildren and friends. To be able to hold my husband's hand and look around at what our love has created.

But I tell you what- it is never, ever easy.

But that's the way it is.

And I would no more skip celebrating a grandchild's birthday than I would forget to breathe.

Pictures to follow.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. I understand so well. You'll get yourself to the party and you'll have a wonderful time. I hope you get to just sit and watch the proceedings from a safe bubble of distance, while doing all that glorious looking at your beloveds. It is indeed wonderful what your love has wrought. And happy birthday dear Owen! Darling boy.

  2. I just love the dinosaur analogy, it made me happy just reading where you went with it... In spite of the topic. I don't actually know anyone without some form of personal demon to deal with. Your sharing helps. Thank you and happy Sunday.

  3. I hope you all have a great time at Owen's party. I'll bet he loves his presents!

    Looking forward to the pictures.

  4. Life seems to be wrapped in anxiety lately. Not just wrapped but running through it like tree limbs in n the ground. If someone is not absolutely sick from anxiety these days I want to know their secret.

    I do think its going to be an excellent and fun party, From the youngest to the oldest and the one hanging out waiting to make an appearance.

  5. I love the way you grab the joy and pull it out of the clutches of anxiety. You are a role model.
    Are you familiar with the White Queen from Alice in Wonderland? (Actually the second book, Alice through the looking glass) She only suffers and weeps and wails before something happens (in the book, getting stuck with a pin) and is fine as soon as whatever it is actually does happen. That's my habit. I would be nervous as could be before going to a big collection of people, even (especially?) if they were all people I loved.

  6. Happy birthday dear Owen!

  7. Owen is going to be so happy. I can't wait to hear how it all goes. Anxiety or not, you're a terrific mer-mer!


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