Friend Kath's youngest child gets onto the school bus for his first day as a kindergartener. He runs up the steps to the bus, superhero backpack almost bigger than he is, beams at his dad for a picture at the top of the steps, then with a smile that lights up the cul-de-sac, races for his seat on the bus. It's just a blink since I met them at the airport on their trip back from Vietnam to see them coming down the escalator with that tiny, adorable baby with the hair that was forever standing on end. He's their zen-baby. Always happy to go with the flow, and always smiling. I look over at dear friend Kath, who has collapsed onto her husband's shoulder, sobbing, and see that every other mom in the cul-de-sac has teary eyes as a result. (let's all sing and sob together: where are you going, my little one? little one?)
My pre-teen son with the lanky legs and floppy hair and heart as pure and good and loving as I've ever ever ever known sits down at the piano to play "Send in the clowns." So maybe it's all musak and stuff when you hear it on the radio, but when the little love of my life plays it, its beautiful haunting melody drifts through the house and I feel like I'm in a movie. I wash dishes and sniffle and think about when *he* was that kindergartener getting onto the bus and realize that next year he'll be going to middle school.
Then there was the race to the dinner table when I stubbed my toe on the TV tray holder, though those tears were accompanied by a string of curses.
Sigh.
Obviously, I have still not beat this bought of melancholy. The Counting Crows didn't do the trick. Adam D. was in a somber, somewhat pissy mood so all their songs were slow and sad. I still loved the concert, but it wasn't exactly a pick-me-up.
I'm going through the motions and kind of having fun, but it's been a long time since I've spontaneously sung out loud in the van or danced in the living room. I'm just tired and achy and feel old.
Any suggestions for remedies are welcome. I'm living on the edges instead of jumping right in and that's not my normal M.O. and I'm getting tired of it.
Marsha, marsha, marsha!!!!
Bob and wendy whiner...
me.
:-)
4 comments:
No ideas, just a hearty "ME, TOO!" I've been in such a funk the last week or so. Reading your blog entry made me teary, but when I'm around my own dear sweet children I want to strangle them. The house of full of female hormones with nary a molecule of testosterone in sight. And I, for one, could use a good dose right about now. Perhaps I'll have to try Holly's remedy. I can't hurt.
No good suggestions. I do short-term things, like see a woman-friend for a drink, see a funny movie, arrange a special date with my honey...but I know the melancholy of which you speak and it doesn't retreat easily. If it's any consolation, "me too":-(. Loved your description of the kids. Very moving and sniff it all just goes too fast. I am feeling like the "goth" characters on some of the cartoons my kids watch. Katherine does an impression of one (if they were a waitress) Said in a dull voice "Hello, life is pointless, may I take your order?"
HUGS Jen.
Sounds like someone needs to go on a "b*tch walk."
Here's my suggestions:
Short-Term and perhaps Shallow Solutions:
Put on "Can't Buy Me Love" and remember what it felt like to walk out of that building after our last class in college. We're Free!
Say "No" the next time someone asks you to do something. Maybe you need some more time to yourself. Rest. Rejuvenate. Buy some bubble bath and then USE IT.
Long Term Solution:
Remember that book I gave you to give to a friend,"Simple Abundance" by Sarah Ban Breathnach? I can't tell you how much it lifted me and renewed me and EMPOWERED me. Maybe it's time for a little soul searching. Find Jen again.
PS. I laughed out loud at the toe-stubbing mention after such emotional issues before that one. Great writing, kid.
I'm sorry to hear about bouts of depression/funks/whatever.. I have bouts with them myself. No remedies seem to work for me except to work them out by myself. One thing that seems to help me is just either go and sit on the beach and listen to the waves....... Also, I go sit in the "little house" and put my one remaining cat in my lap and have my trusty dog by my side and I pet them and just visit with them and am reminded that they love me unconditionally just like my kids and Regina and it makes me feel very lucky. You know PM, that we all love you unconditionally.
Love ya,
Trouble.
Post a Comment