Wednesday, March 07, 2007

All the signs were there ...

Lately I've been thinking the universe is thumbing its nose at me. Crazy, right? Maybe it's just the stress of everyday life, or the reality that I've just gone from one needling virus to another since Thanksgiving. Maybe I'm just tired of thinking. Like the character Henry Chinaski in the movie "Barfly" said: "Sometimes I just get tired of thinking of all the things that I don't wanna do. All the things that I don't wanna be. Places I don't wanna go, like India, like getting my teeth cleaned. Save the whale, all that, I don't understand that."

Yet somehow -- as I wallow in self pity -- we've managed to raise a sensitive child, who seems to know how to take care of us when we are feeling low.

Sunday was a hard day for all of us; I was sore all over, and thinking that perhaps the stress of Maggie's demise and some other tasks I'd managed to get done during the day had taken their toll on me. I was tired. Still I managed to rouse myself from an impromptu nap in time to vacate the premises (as Jed wanted to be alone with Maggie) taking Annabel away with me.

I really had no clue where to go before I left. What to do with a hour on a blustery day. But then Annabel stole the last piece of bacon Jed had made to help Maggie choke down her pills.

There was a fight. There were tears and hurt feelings.

She wanted the last piece; he wanted it for Maggie. She didn't understand.

At least I knew what to do: We went to the diner to get bacon.

She ate five of the six pieces on her plate, saving the last one for daddy.

When we got home Jed was in the shower and she was eager to give him the bacon. I wanted to know how it went and started crying. How did it go? Where did it happen? How did he wrap her?

Something about it all was just overwhelming. Yet Annabel stood there with the bacon, looking concerned for me. "I'm not sad, Mommy. Maggie's OK now."

At 4 a.m. that morning I woke up and had to vomit. It was official, the achyness and dreadful tired wasn't from overdoing anything. It was a bug that people tell me is going around. And so, dear Internets, I've been wallowing on the couch these last two days and wishing I felt better. Wishing winter were at an end and the end of sick were within reach.

It's been really helpful that Ittybit knows just the right thing to say.

"Mama, I hoped you were feeling better. I hoped you were feeling really better."

10 comments:

Redneck Mommy said...

It's amazing how just at the right moments a child can soothe your soul, like an angel sent from above.

Equally amazing is how that same sweet angel child can morph into one of Satan's little toadies the very next day.

I hope you feel better soon.Both physically and emotionally. Tough to lose a family member.

kimmyk said...

Does Annabel understand about Maggie? Is she doing ok? How is your husband? Men rarely show emotion...I always wonder what they're thinking.

Sorry to hear you're sick. I hope that you get to feelin' better...

Misty said...

Hi. I have commented once before but try to read your posts faithfully...

Ok. I am a few days behind on reading your blog (we are sick around our place too.)
I read your last post and have sat here crying for the longest time. This one inspired a stream of tears as well...
I am so sorry for your loss...
and your sickness...
hang in there, take care of yourself and here are wishes to feel better!

toyfoto said...

Thank you all for your kind thoughts. A lot of your comments about Maggie have helped me greatly.

Because Jed doesn't believe in heaven, I've been letting him explain death to Annabel. What I've learned is that toddlers will accept pretty much anything you tell them, so long as you realize you will have to repeat yourself at least once a day.

I'm not sure how much she understands, but she seems accepting. Everyday when she gets home and we say "Hello" to Maddy, she asks "Where's Maggie."

Jed explains that she's gone and isn't coming back but that we can remember her and she moves along to another conversation.

Jed seems to be OK, too. I think he's putting his grief into carting my dog around with him where he can so she won't be lonely.

Andrea said...

What a precious, compassionate little girl.

ECR said...

This post made me picture the tunnel of winter with a sliver of light at the end--definitely not here yet, but visible. There's still time to reflect on the darker things before spring comes and we can get back to action. I hope you feel better soon.

Lauren said...

So sorry to hear about Maggie. I hope you are all doing as well as can be expected. Get over that icky sickness asap. Sending my love...

TSM said...

I'm so sorry you're feeling ill! So many bloggers are blogging about being sick lately, I can only pray (really hard!) that I will not be one of them, and will only blog poems about my stomach.

Fingers crossed.

jen said...

am glad ecr asked us to come over here today. you write beautifully about something so difficult.

peace to you.

Gail said...

I hope your winter (seasonal and metaphorical) passes soon.

Annabel is such a delight. I look forward to seeing you all again.