Circling In The Fog

Larry and I were sitting on the sofa with our two puppies enjoying our first cup of coffee and the view out our beautiful windows, as we do every morning. Fog was thick on the Sakonnet River this morning. A lobster boat came up river and began to circle around slowly searching for its buoys. While the boat circled, I thought about how I've been feeling lately. My mind felt like that circling boat searching with its lights; feebly trying to break through the thick fog to find each buoy that represents a Life pleasure, one by one.

I know that just being alive is a Blessing. I also treasure my good health, my wonderful family and friends, and every other blessing I enjoy. They are all buoys on the River that is my Blessed Life. But, even people who are lucky enough to make choices that create a charmed existence get caught in the current or rip-tides of Life from time-to-time. I feel a current carrying me down river quickly these days, but I depend on the ropes that anchor my buoys to slow down my flow. I click on my high beams to find my way to the Christmas lights shining through our windows to call me home and to safety. I don't feel afraid or unsure, I just feel really tired and weighted down by Life events. I struggle each day to buoy myself up.

I am grateful I am not struggling with cancer like my sister. As she fights to recover from the intense surgery she had a week ago tomorrow to remove her retroperitoneal sarcoma, the recovery process seems more difficult than the surgery itself. I feel badly that she must endure so much pain. I wish I had a magic wand to wish away all her suffering. Then, I wish I could wish away the heartbreak my son and his wife continue to endure from the sudden death of their sweet son inutero: my second grandson. The first was lost just sixteen months previously. Although I am doing better emotionally than they are, I remain weighted down by sadness. I can intellectualize it all, and I can ignore or exercise or meditate to a lighter state of being, but then the current catches me again.

My heavier mood is causing me to behave unpredictably. I get major stress headaches from minor incidences, like drivers pulling out in front of me in traffic or puppies who insist on going out yet again, when I want to enjoy my cup of hot tea to relax. I have no role in the sad life events I listed above, and that is causing me stress. I've always had a role: I am the oldest of twelve siblings. I am a caretaker and a nurturer. I had a primary role in taking care of Larry's mother and sister when they were sick and dying. I was a primary caretaker for my mother when she was sick and dying from breast cancer. I held vigil while my maternal grandmother lay dying. But, I can't help or fix my son's broken heart. I can't hold vigil on their sadness. My sister chooses to approach her disease and recovery independently, like the Warrior Woman she is. I applaud her choice, but where does it leave me?

My sister-in-law has been using me as her information resource about my sister. Initially, I complied with this role, but then I realized I began to resent it. After her third phone message to provide her with a status report, I got very angry. I didn't want to be in this role.  I was already driving our friend staying with us three hours round trip each day to the hospital, and was feeling weighted down in general. After the first phone call, I felt annoyed, but bit my tongue and gave her the information she needed. I also encouraged her to just go see her sister-in-law and find out what she needed instead of my trying to answer her question of "What should I bring?". With the second message, I felt more annoyed and did not call her.  When I received the third message to report, I felt like I was being treated like a personal assistant with no consideration from her for what I was already doing, and could not understand why she just did not make her own phone call to my sister to find out her status. She told me she had the day off on Friday. If she couldn't go see her after all, why couldn't she just call herself? Why did she need me to keep her informed? I didn't want to take care of her anymore. I wanted her to take care of herself.

When I first saw her in the hospital, I realized I could not keep my feelings to myself. I made the mistake of telling her how I was feeling. I tried to provide as complete an explanation as I could when we were alone,  and thought I had succeeded in explaining myself. But later when I received three text messages from her, I realized I had failed, and I hurt her feelings. I left her a long rambling voicemail, but I'm sure all she heard was my irritated tone. I'm sure she didn't hear the repeated "I'm sorry" or "I love you" or "I'm in a really bad place right now and not handling this well". I still can't talk to her. I am lost in the fog.