Feeling less than yourself physically brings a yearning for those things in the past that made you feel better. Those moments that defined the good times.
After a day that started with another sleepless night, I made it to work. Determined that I was on the mend, I wore heeled boots which in retrospect was a really stupid idea considering I was on cold meds & going on just a couple hours sleep off and on last night. For once not due to dreams. Just coughing & all the joys of having a head cold. So before I even got to the door, I was down. The misty rain combined the slight step up from parking lot to walkway did not agree with the boots. As I was falling I remember thinking, I hadn’t even sipped the hot tea I had. But down it went too. Ceramic mug busted all around me, I had to laugh seeing the co-worker opening her car door. “Did see that?” I called. To which she shook her head & looked at me strangely as if saying “why are you on the ground?”. A simple “You okay?” was much nicer than what I’m sure she was thinking about my mental health. “yes, just slipped. Guess I got the worst part of the day over with.” was all I could get out. She laughed and she was there helping to pick up the pieces of the mug that would never come home. Thankfully other than wet clothes and a few bruises and scrapes, the mug was the only real loss.
There I was at work. Feeling a bit defeated but hopeful. The longer I sat there, the worse I felt. Couldn’t breath through my nose, which made me sound AWFUL on the phone. Even worse, it made it hard to even be drinking water from a leftover styrofoam cup I found in the cabinet. Of course it was quiet in there today. My morning interview never showed up. Which made it seem like every time I blew my nose it was louder than I’m sure it was. I was just gross and I needed to go home. Still I didn’t want to abandon the work. When another coworker asked if I was feeling ok, I didn’t lie, “I’ve felt better, but hanging in there.” She admitted she didn’t think I would have made it through the day yesterday. I confessed I didn’t feel like I was going today. Just even joking saying it made me realize, I really didn’t feel like being there & I wasn’t actually contributing much anyway. So when it was mentioned that if I needed to it wouldn’t be a bad idea. They could handle it – & pretty much were having to since me on the phone wasn’t working. I moved all my other appointments, knocked out a few tasks and left. I’m sure they miss the coughing, sniffles & regular nose blows.
I give. As much as it sucks when you can’t just defeat and move on, sometimes you do need to take time to surrender. Hoping it pays off and I wake tomorrow feeling 100% better.
As tempted as I was, no movie marathon or anything fun really to skipping work. My body was achy and exhausted. Came home crawled into some all to familiar sweat pants and a comfy tee and back to bed. Read a few more pages of a book and blew my nose a billion more times then passed right out.
Before sleeping I had that moment where you feel so bad you just want to cry. Not that it would do any good. You want someone to just take care of you. Someone who would make sure that the blanket wrapped around you was just right, that you have fresh water to drink and that you are okay. Make you comfortable. That safety of knowing someone is there to make it all better and cares that you don’t feel great. Luckily I have been blessed with knowing how good that feeling feels. I’ve had people over the years who have showered me with that love. On that thought, I have to smile.
Brings back memories of my grandparents, my parents and relationships long gone. Those little details can mean so much.
Even now the act of eating a grapefruit brings back more memories than I could ever express. Like getting into trouble a million times over for climbing my grandfather’s grapefruit tree – even when it wasn’t loaded with fruit. How we would load up and bring the bags of fruit with us when it was time to go. Eating them for breakfast felt a bit like we were still there with the rest of the family. All the ones we picked off the ground to toss into the canal to scare off the alligators and the deep plopping sound the heavy fruit would make as it hit the dark water. The nasty mess they would make on any shoe that was unlucky enough to stride across one as it decomposed on the ground, a fate that seemed worse than being eaten to me.
Things will never be the same. Memories can do so much damage sometimes, but it is nice to be able to experience how vividly they can also heal. I know this piece didn’t come from that same tree. May not have even come from Florida. Yet it feels so familiar and comforting. So tonight, I rest. I dine on this almost perfect fruit (it isn’t as flavorful as the ones we would freshly pick, none ever will be). Hopefully I will sleep soundly full of vitamins and lots of memories to warm my heart.