.
.
Realizing the dark and cold would break me if I did nothing, I pulled the plug, employing every trick in my arsenal in a hurry. Tea, heat up, adding warm layers, reading that which might interest, doing a few small tasks in an attempt to prime me for larger tasks, and other things. No deal. Like a rocket losing power, I too began falling. Time and consciousness slipping like water through fingers.
I did anything I thought might alter that, even at that point. I called my mother. But she is unwell, and was trying to sleep herself. I let her go on to sleep. I finally realized the only thing to do was find the softest place to land, and let the body rest. So, up to bed. Down and in. And out, like a light.
Nearly two, or three hours? Ah, the phone will tell. Two hours down. I put up almost an hour fight then. Good, if losing, show. It felt as if I failed almost immediately after beginning the slide. Not bad. Sleep was okay. I may need more. I have it at 72° down here, it is 61° upstairs, with the door shut. It is 54° outside. Not really all that cold, but it sure is dark.
I woke, around noon, crying. Couldn't remember why. Then, as if entering a room, with my future self, having to gain understanding as a casual observer, I realized. I was writing and practicing a... eulogy, is it? I was doing so for the only person I could do that for. I was time shifting, between writing it and giving it. Come to think of it, I probably should... get started on that. It's a bit of a race, we'll see. But in case I lose...
Awake but still a bit rough. As soon as possible, a trim then shower. I have dishes in the way. Ugh. How about a trim, then the dishes, then back to Internet browsing. I don't have the energy to simply push through. After that, and the shower, then giving laundry a spin, then upstairs. I really want the upstairs projects done this week. I had hoped to be well beyond that already.
Later.
"I woke, around noon, crying."
ReplyDeleteThere are those who suggest that the soul, as with any other hard worked machine, requires regular lubrication. That is why I never deny myself tears when they come, but release them as copiously as possible.
For me, it depends. I didn't fight these, but they dissipated as I woke... to realization. Still, when resting, not focusing, it... can creep back up. Yes, I will write and practice that eulogy. I'll want some information, to get my uncles and aunts in the right order, a few other family details, and anything else she might want added. Though, who knows, if called to do so I may toss it and go commando... like her tough once little guy.
ReplyDeleteActually, I should speak with my brother as well. Whether he can make it or not, I would like to include him. Either adding information he would want spoken, or reading a piece for him. Perhaps get a copy to someone else in the family in case I, we, fall first. She deserves it.