Sunday, January 23, 2011

Another week done

Hi.  Q slept exceptionally badly Friday night.  He went down uneventfully, but was up and squawky by about 2:30.  S joined us shortly after that and we were all fried by sunrise.  I do not know how, but we did manage to get dressed and get to church.  The sermon was so good (David being a man after God's heart, though he was far from perfect), the kids had orchestra practice, I handed off boxes for a person moving due to illness, and we came home.  Q kind of gritched all day.  He'd have been ever so much happier if he'd have just had a nap, but he's stubborn (snort - resemble his familyy much?) and wanted to be awake.

I'm up now because I have a heavy heart for some friends who are suffering.  Life has delivered extraordinary levels of stress to several individual families in the last several weeks.  Some are filing for divorce, some trying to prevent it, others facing terminal diagnoses plus wretched pain.  I wish that we could all take a break from the pressures of the everyday.  Perhaps if we each had a small shift, we could see the awfulness for what it is:  fear and exhaustion.  Those things shouldn't be allowed to take the day.  We should have good pain meds to go along with hospice, ordinary kindnesses to help us ease through otherwise difficult relationship issues, and restorative tenderness to keep us from ever approaching the brink to begin with.

I've been chatting with the kids lately about what it means to "suffer well" - that is, to do the best we can, or better than we suspected we could have, with that inevitable rain which comes our way.  It isn't that we should deny suffering or ignore it when it's making us miserable.  It's that we get more say than we think we do in how we survive or thrive in tragedy.  After leaving church today, I was thinking about what comprises happiness.  My conclusion is this:  one must possess metaphorical tools with which to handle difficult, painful, and even joyous events; one must make good choices; and one must possess good brain chemistry.  Beyond those things, a healthy balance between internal and external locuses of control allows us to take responsibility for our share (taking more than our share is better) of the blame when or if something goes wrong.  Hopefully then, people can take their tools, their good choices, a balanced locus of control, and do something magnifique with it.  Like hold their family together.  Like manage to suffer well through end-stage illness, grace and dignity intact.

We're not so special that we get to avoid the pain life so often offers.  But we are special enough to marshal our resources and manage what we must, grace and dignity intact.

I should send a shout out to all those who aren't hearing from me or anyone else at this house.  I'm not calling anyone these days.  Unless it's a matter of scheduling I'm not picking up the phone.  I don't go anywhere but church, therapies, medical appointments, groceries, etc.  I'm missing some peeps!  Wah!  So:  Hey!  Hope y'all are well!  I would love to be catching up and hanging out, at all.  But some of this has to ease, right?  I have a round of dentist and medical stuff to attend to and then it's just regulation craziness.  Maybe we can manage something by the time the daffodils are coming up?  Call me, people!  We've already established that I'm not managing to reach out, so call and we'll plan something.  Okay?  'S okay.  A'right?  S'a'right.  Okay good.

Love you all, and thanks for the sweet comments of late.  I'm finally winding down, so fingers crossed and eyes heavenward, and I'll come chat some more when I can be awake.  Smooch!

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