When I finally did drop off I slept until it was just breaking dawn and I laid there for a few minutes, trying to change position to get more comfortable and then I fell back asleep and stayed there until nine or so.
I had rather horrible dreams which I am sure were pandemic-based and when I got up I did not feel the way I had hoped to feel which was even better than the day before. My ribs hurt more, my energy was low and so were my spirits.
I talked to Lis though and Glen went to the post office and brought home the box of presents that sweet woman had sent to me and by the time I was finished unwrapping them all I was sobbing.
Not weeping. Sobbing.
Everything she sent me was perfect and beautiful and exquisite. Just like Lis. A Johnny Was blouse. A pair of the daintiest pearl and crystal earrings. A bar of soap that smells of the sea and seaweed. A jar of blue cheese olives in vermouth. A blue shawl. Which is what broke me. I held it close to myself and lost it. It is too much for me to bear. It made me feel so covered in love.
I’m crying again.
I texted her and told her that I could not possibly talk to her because I was too emotional. I could not have gotten a word out.
For this past week I’ve felt so broken and useless and haggish and the opposite of everything those magical gifts represented and they seem like totems of promise that I won’t always feel this way.
I added the shawl to my nest of pillows and covers and slipped the earrings into my ears.
I can’t even say how much I love that woman.
I watered the porch plants. That was my biggest accomplishment. I’ve waited since this morning for the arrival of my MacBook because I got a notice telling me it would be here today.
No MacBook has arrived.
But Rachel did. She brought us a beautiful Mediterranean vegetarian family meal from a restaurant in Tallahassee. Falafel and hummus and rice and grape leaves and chick pea salad and pita. It’s going to taste so good to me.
I cried when she left.
I’m a mess.
I finally looked again at the hematoma on the back of my leg and it is horrifying. Mr. Moon says the area of my ribs is bruised up real good now too.
My sweet husband has blanched and vacuum-sealed all the field peas he has picked and shelled today and put them in the freezer. He is more than amazing. It is so weird to watch him do all these things that I think of as mine to do. And uncomfortable.
I have to keep remembering that I did indeed injure myself quite seriously and that healing is my job now. Not sweeping or cooking or weeding or picking the garden or doing laundry or shopping or walking or any of those things. It is simply to be here now and to heal.
I cannot deal with any more of the news beyond a quick scan of what’s going on. It’s all so dire and horrific and sad and frightening. And to put the cherry on top of the cowgirl, we may be in the path of what may become a hurricane.
Who among us can not nod their head and say, “Yep. That sounds about right”?
Netflix reminded me this morning to make sure to finish watching The Office! They’re so thoughtful. And helpful. I’ve been doing my best.
As are we all, I am sure.