Off With My Kilter

Spring has sprung and I think it's knocked us on our asses.

I've been more emotionally volatile in the last month than....ever? No. Since I was 16.
Something has changed. I'm 35. What has changed?
Is it that I feel it's all downhill from here? No. I don't.
Is it that I feel useless? Absolutely not. I'm the Mama. Everyone needs me.
I just don't feel as spry as I did and I don't know why.

I do still have a rowdy and righteous sense of humor.
I hate it when things get too "deep" and this flower arrangement
arrived at school just in time to save me from the heaviness of Reality.

The card is signed God.
I've never met God, Jesus or the Holy Ghost face to face but
the lady who dropped it off looked an awful lot like the recipient's daughter.
I have trouble believing The Holy Trinity would deliver something bearing such a strong resemblance to (NOT) crispy lettuce?

Moving on to more generally disturbing news...

My parents invited us to dinner last night but
we had company arrive just before we walked down.
When we saw our guest off, we went down to eat.
Mom & Dad were already finished and brought the kids outside to play.
Joe was very quiet through dinner. As I washed our dishes, he walked up behind me and said,
"I need to tell you something... I haven't felt like myself. I don't feel right..."
and I was caught totally off guard. Totally.
I turned around expecting to see one of two things.
He was not holding a weapon. He was holding his chest, over his heart.
He was rubbing his left arm. He looked uneasy.

Holy Jesus. He is 38 years old.
Then that thing in my brain clicked.
The thing that suppresses my emotions when I see a great deal of blood,
or hear a child screaming for what seems like mercy.
I asked all the right questions. I allayed his fears.
I fed him four gas relief tablets and gave him some aspirin.

He's had some fairly severe indigestion for a few days and he helped my dad run some heavy equipment in the yard on Saturday. His achiness and tightness didn't start until the next day.
I told him it was more than likely gastrointestinal and musculoskeletal.
Pretty soon afterward, he felt better.


Good enough to joke around with me about the intimate moments we've shared the last two nights in a row. I asked what he was thinking getting it on while having intermittent chest pain?!? He said he figured it would be preferable to going to meet his maker while stranded in the ER waiting room. And I'll tell you, I appreciate the man's viewpoint, both literally and figuratively!

And to tell the truth, last night after he fell asleep, I lay feeling as if all my nerves were exposed. I began to think of my Dad's upcoming birthday. I did a little math. I cried and then I slept. This morning the foreboding feelings concerning my Dad rushed back to me.
I thought of death in general. I wasn't able to shake it until Joe told me of his chest pain.
And even then I didn't shake it. I transferred it.


Just as I cannot influence a dandelion seed dancing on the breeze, I have no control over aging or life spans, diets or lifestyles that are not my own. I know this to be true.




Things are changing. We are changing.
I'll pray for some fortitude.
You pray we squash this dandelion invasion soon.