Which came atop my daughter’s back injury after falling off a horse over the weekend, the breakdown of my son’s new car, a worsening in the dog’s seizure condition, and news that layoffs are moving forward at my husband’s company.
Which joined my own concern about the stack of bills on my desk and the deep melancholy that tries like hell to steal my spirit every autumn.
Up until Saturday I was fine.
My mind is racing, but my body and spirit are spent. I feel empty. Depleted. I find myself staring for long periods of time at a sun-dappled tree in the front yard, leafy branches rustling in the hint of a soft breeze and brushing the top of the trellis.
It’s a lovely image and I make a mental note to take a picture of it. Beside it, small brown sparrows are hovering at the feeder. The dog wanders over to my desk and lays her head on my lap. That can usually fix anything that ails me. But not today.
Sometimes there just isn’t anything you can do but go with the feeling you have. I’m resigned that today won’t be my most productive day. Earlier, a friend who is also stunned by the death posted an update on Facebook that she’s going to stop trying to figure things out for a while.
I know what she means. When the world just piles on, and then piles on some more, there’s not much to do but just … be. Some things can’t be fixed or handled. Healing comes in its own time. Other issues will take money, or maybe even a miracle. Sometimes, there are no explanations.
Suddenly, I realize the bird feeder is empty. I’m wondering where the sparrows went when I hear a determined tap-tap behind me. I turn to the big window behind the piano and there is a blue jay balancing on the sill. He knocks on the glass with his bill, making me smile.
I smell fresh-mown grass from next door that reminds me of my father. And I’m beginning to feel some peace around the edges of the sadness and uncertainty. I’m finding comfort in the strangest places today. But some days, that’s just what it takes to get through.