Filed under: Uncategorized
Today,
my appetite finally returned, surely this means that my voracious self is nigh.
This morning, I melted local Madrone & thistle honey from a Half Moon Bay Apiary into the Chrysanthemum tea my herbalist friend recommended.
I thought about how touching it was when a client, a bright man my age who had lost more than 16 years (and counting) to severe illness suddenly smiled when he saw "Half Moon Bay" on the map.
"Is it a real place?!" he asked.
"Yes, it’s real!" I said, "not far from here really."
He smiled and looked so wistful. "It sounds very….romantic. Like not a real place."
He repeated the name softly to himself and I encouraged him to take a bus there someday and see for himself. In my head the memories of Dad taking us there to shop, eat ice cream, and play on the beach, of going to Pumpkin festival with Mom and family and beaus over the years, dinner at Moss Beach Distillery, of P and I finding hundreds of beached jellyfish like breast implants across the sand…
It made me sad that this place less than 50 miles southwest felt like an ocean away for this brilliant, ill, young man. I’ve been a part of his recovery for 7 years now.
I drank my tea & peeled tangerines, and fell in love yet again with the birds at our feeder. So small, yet so perfectly beautiful. They ate heartily and I found myself wanting more too.
Out come the crumpets & marmalade. Later are the Chinese BBQ pork buns. This must be some kind of brunchtime cultural fusion food blasphemy!
Today, I sang.
Almost always I sing when I drive, but today it was as if meeting a stranger. In the worse throes of my "sepsis" I could barely muster the energy to mumble. And I couldn’t bear going outside or speaking to another.
Leaving someone like me indoors for too long always foments some sort of mood disorder I think. I could ruminate until the apocalypse if you let me…
There is that sign in my office, the quote from Isak Dineson:
The Cure for Everything is Salt Water, Sweat, Tears, or The Sea.
My preferred sanity savers are sweat (run, Forrest, run) and the Sea (Half Moon Bay sounds attractive, although I will gladly take the Carribean). But lock me indoors long enough and I guess all that leaves is to weep. What a mess. (please see "Yellow Wallpaper" incredible short story. More on that later.) I need to get outside…P will be ticked off if he catches me running again anytime soon, and I don’t have the strength anyways.
Surely I still look a fright, but I pulled myself together to take care of the post, and get a bit (and I do mean one measly bit) of work done at Peet’s. I bought a cream current scone for no reason other than it is my Dad’s favorite scone, and normally it is all sold out, so it felt like sharing a moment with him.
When I burst into song, I knew I was better.
"I’m gonna clear my head,
I’m gonna drink that sun.
I’m going to love you good & strong
while our love is good and young"
Ah, Indigo Girls!
I’m not nearly 100%.
But recovery is just ’round the corner now, and I do want to get back to being social, being functional, having my voice, my appetites, and to guiding those who need some help just getting 50 miles away to a happier sounding place.
No Comments so far
Leave a comment
Leave a comment
Line and paragraph breaks automatic, e-mail address never displayed, HTML allowed:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>
