Yesterday, I left the house to run some errands, and as I locked the front door, and held Molly's hand, walking to the car, I felt a wave of sickness wash over me. I had to pick up some groceries, and I had to get a prescription, so I had no choice but to go ahead with my morning.
Standing in the produce department, I thought how awfully cold it was. I was trembling. When I was in the bread aisle, I realized that it was me who was freezing. Not the store. I did what I had to do, and drove home, fully intending to just put away the items that needed to be refrigerated. Everything else had to stay in bags. I would deal with it later. Molly and I got under the covers, and slept. I never nap. Ever. But this was not a nap. This was sick sleep. I could have stayed in bed all day. Except I had to give lunch to Molly, and put away the food, and change a diaper. I went through the motions, and even managed to sweep the floor.
I had to lie down on the couch and take a break. I looked out the windows, and saw all of the green leaves on the trees. I was suddenly reminded of the Fall, and how desperate I felt watching the leaves fall to the ground. This time last year, was when our mortgage company decided to renege on our signed contract with them, and pull out of a modification that we qualified for. This time last year, we were told that unless we could make the new, higher than ever, payment, plus fees that they tacked on to our principal, reflecting the entire time we were in our trial period, there would be no other help, and we had reached the end of the road with them.
We realized that we wouldn't be getting the help that we were promised to stay in our home. Last Spring, I wondered if it would be our last summer here. When the Fall came, I watched the leaves, crispy and brown, fall like snow to the ground, and thought to myself, that I might not see them return. I went to bed each night worried. Sick with worry. Every phone call and conversation David and I had was filled with anxiety, and sadness. Every moment of my day, was filled with doom, and a feeling of impending disaster.
Yet, as I lay on the couch yesterday, feeling physically awful, I smiled inside. There were the leaves that I thought I wouldn't get to see. Here we are, fighting our bank, because we know that they are not above the law, and that we, like so many, have been wronged. And finally, we have a lawyer who is on our side, telling us that we are indeed, correct.
Worry these last few months, has been replaced with hope. A feeling of doom, and disaster has been replaced with the knowing of a better tomorrow. I know this because I wake up each day, and try to be here, in the present. I can't think about what might happen, but I must be present with what is actually happening. Because what is happening is amazing. I have the most beautiful, healthy, smart, little, girls I could have ever imagined. And I have the love and partnership of a man who is my best friend. I have a family. And despite scary times, and late notices, and cable disconnections, and 1-800 numbers calling, I have to see that this is life right now. Not life forever. And instead of focusing on the frightening stuff, I am really seeing all the beauty.
David called me this morning, as he drove to work. He used to call me and his voice was filled with anxiety. He was constantly stressed, yet he pretended to be OK, for my sake. Today he called, and I could hear the smile on his face. He was calling to tell me that he just saw a baby deer stand up for the first time, as the mother licked it clean. The baby had just been born. He was amazed.
Right there, on the side of the road, in a place you might not notice, was life. In all of it's splendor.
Standing in the produce department, I thought how awfully cold it was. I was trembling. When I was in the bread aisle, I realized that it was me who was freezing. Not the store. I did what I had to do, and drove home, fully intending to just put away the items that needed to be refrigerated. Everything else had to stay in bags. I would deal with it later. Molly and I got under the covers, and slept. I never nap. Ever. But this was not a nap. This was sick sleep. I could have stayed in bed all day. Except I had to give lunch to Molly, and put away the food, and change a diaper. I went through the motions, and even managed to sweep the floor.
I had to lie down on the couch and take a break. I looked out the windows, and saw all of the green leaves on the trees. I was suddenly reminded of the Fall, and how desperate I felt watching the leaves fall to the ground. This time last year, was when our mortgage company decided to renege on our signed contract with them, and pull out of a modification that we qualified for. This time last year, we were told that unless we could make the new, higher than ever, payment, plus fees that they tacked on to our principal, reflecting the entire time we were in our trial period, there would be no other help, and we had reached the end of the road with them.
We realized that we wouldn't be getting the help that we were promised to stay in our home. Last Spring, I wondered if it would be our last summer here. When the Fall came, I watched the leaves, crispy and brown, fall like snow to the ground, and thought to myself, that I might not see them return. I went to bed each night worried. Sick with worry. Every phone call and conversation David and I had was filled with anxiety, and sadness. Every moment of my day, was filled with doom, and a feeling of impending disaster.
Yet, as I lay on the couch yesterday, feeling physically awful, I smiled inside. There were the leaves that I thought I wouldn't get to see. Here we are, fighting our bank, because we know that they are not above the law, and that we, like so many, have been wronged. And finally, we have a lawyer who is on our side, telling us that we are indeed, correct.
Worry these last few months, has been replaced with hope. A feeling of doom, and disaster has been replaced with the knowing of a better tomorrow. I know this because I wake up each day, and try to be here, in the present. I can't think about what might happen, but I must be present with what is actually happening. Because what is happening is amazing. I have the most beautiful, healthy, smart, little, girls I could have ever imagined. And I have the love and partnership of a man who is my best friend. I have a family. And despite scary times, and late notices, and cable disconnections, and 1-800 numbers calling, I have to see that this is life right now. Not life forever. And instead of focusing on the frightening stuff, I am really seeing all the beauty.
David called me this morning, as he drove to work. He used to call me and his voice was filled with anxiety. He was constantly stressed, yet he pretended to be OK, for my sake. Today he called, and I could hear the smile on his face. He was calling to tell me that he just saw a baby deer stand up for the first time, as the mother licked it clean. The baby had just been born. He was amazed.
Right there, on the side of the road, in a place you might not notice, was life. In all of it's splendor.
LOVE this post. (Not the part about you being sick - ugh).
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