Bursting Through the Clouds

I have been suffering from the doldrums that I periodically experience, those times when all I want to do is shut myself off from the world and sleep and brood.    My mood slipped into darkness, crabbiness, and lethargy, succumbing to the malaise that crept into my fingers and sagged my soul. My mind, filled with stories and beautiful memories, became a prisoner trapped away in isolation.  All I craved was sleep, and the words scripted in my mind to be penned in my writing began to shatter like broken shards, and I lay down my pen.  Who cares about your stories, those memories you find beautiful?  Who cares?  My mind screamed at me, and I raged in silent uncooperativeness and sarcasm.  No one knows what I am going through, and they don’t even care.  The things I wanted to write about—an email from Jalen’s teacher, praising the wonderful endeavor he gave to his World War I ABC book,   Jordan’s stellar performance as Inspector Goole in the VGCC spring dinner theater production of J. B. Priestley’s An Inspector Calls, even Jordan being racially profiled during a traffic stop when on his way to work…, how despite all obstacles, I feel like I am making progress—in the last couple of weeks, none of that seemed to matter.  I was just tired, grumpy, frumpy, and mad, and only wanted to be in hibernation.  Yes, the funk clouds had descended, and I gave in to their cumulonimbus charm. Eh, heh, heh, heh… Cackling, hairpins flying...  The wicked witch was sailing on her broom.

This past Friday, the revelation of why I had been feeling this way finally dawned on me.  This Sunday would be Mother’s Day, and I had been missing my mother.  I also get down like this around February 22^nd, my mother’s birthday, and around August 19^th, the day she left this world and went, as my mom had said earlier that day, “to see her Mama and Daddy and to sleep with Jesus”.  Without realizing it, I seem to fall into a blue funk during these times of the year.  Without fail or notice, every year since 2004, I become this person so not like myself.  The feeling of sadness just seems to come over me in a whisper, as stealthily as fog, my mind oblivious to the fact but my heart willing the rest of my body to ache and creep along.  I have been going through the motions of living, doing the things necessary to keep the family running smoothly, but during the day when I was alone, all I could do was sleep.  I have not been reading, and my passion for writing became stagnant and just seemed like a laborious task.  Why write if there is no joy? 

Saturday began as another lazy day.  I had intentions of getting up early, but just lay around most of the morning, wasting time.  Duke had wanted to take me to the mall to get my toes done, something I have been lamenting and wishing that I could do for some time now.  I tried to get ready, but was so unmotivated that he ended up leaving me so that he would have time to take care of what he had on his agenda.  When he finally got back home, I was up and feeling slightly better.  Finally, the fog began to lift and my day began to brighten.  While they were out, he and Jalen got me a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a pretty vase.  That made me smile.  Then Jalen went out and came back in with a big box of pretty, giant sized, juicy strawberries.  Both of those early Mother’s Day gifts made me feel special and loved, and just as unannounced as it rolled over me, the sadness and malaise seemed to fritter away.  The final leg of my journey back to my happy self came in the door about 11:45 that night—Jordan walked in the house.  That was a total surprise because I had no idea that he was coming.  He brought me a bouquet of flowers, too.

Sunday morning, Mother’s Day, was beautiful.  I had my whole family together and I was beaming.  The depression that I had been feeling for the last couple of weeks became a distant memory.  Breakfast was good and I ate all of it instead of throwing it away when Duke wasn’t looking, like I had been doing for the last two weeks.  (He was not happy when he discovered his hard labor half eaten and discarded, and threatened to not fix me anything else.)  But, after a good cup of coffee and the chatter of family filled the house, I felt better than I had in a while and even had the energy to tackle a shower, get dressed, and get out of the house.  The cards and gifts that I got for Mother’s Day were all so thoughtful and sweet, especially the handwritten notes that both Jordan and Jalen wrote to me in their cards.  Jordan said that they were following Grampa’s directives on how to address the envelopes and write the personal notes. They gave me all of the essentials that I need to help me in my quest to learn to play the guitar—an auto tuner, a music book, and a how-to video.  I have set as my goal to be able to play a recognizable tune by my birthday this summer.  I got some good chocolate from Duke, Russell Stover chocolates that I had been silently craving.  (Yes, Duke, you know me so well.)  By the time we got to the mall and I was sitting back in the chair getting my feet pampered and my back massaged, I felt quite loved and very thankful for the day and for my life.  I even got a very pretty blouse and skirt from Belk—on sale, and I had a coupon! 

Yes, I am very, very thankful for all of the blessings in my life—my children, my husband, my dad, my family and friends—I am most grateful.  When I go through my periods of sadness, memories such as the fun time I had on Sunday are what I know exist on the other side of the fog.  I have learned to be patient and to always believe in tomorrow.  Every day may not be a happy one, but it is okay.  As long as I am able to see the rising of a new day, that is the most important thing.  Plus, my feet are soft, and my toes are popping in pretty pink polish.  I am looking forward to getting my mane washed and retwisted this Friday.  I can see clearly now the rain is gone…  Life is good.  Yes!!