You know how it is…
when you’re significant other is sick.
No sleep. Running to the pharmacy. Making chicken soup. Doing all the chores by yourself…and then you wake up with a scratchy throat…Ce la vie!
It’s been a busy week and I’ve spent most of it distracted. Pauline Baird Jones had a very poignant post about turning fifty-five and the closing of doors. She says, and I’m quoting a portion of her post -
“But I am living with-to some extent-diminishing possibilities. Doors are closing or are already closed. There are some things I will never do. I’m not saying my life is over, by any means, but it is winding down. I’ve seen pieces of that bucket list movie and have tried to think what I’d put in mine, but I’m kind of relieved to find out that I’ve lived a full and (mostly) happy life. I have no desire to jump out of airplane or climb anything to feel like I’ve lived, because I have already lived the life I wanted to live. My bucket list would have been quieter anyway, since I’m an unapologetic hermit.”
I read her post and I cried. Not for Pauline, she seems content, but because there comes a time in all our lives when we do reach a point of diminishing returns. I’m not there yet, even my parents aren’t there yet, for the most part, but I have had to accept changes. Because of my knee surgery, I will never run or downhill ski again - not that I particularly enjoyed running, but when you can’t do something, you notice. On the other hand, I can do pretty much everything else I want to do. There are so many things I hoped for and wished to do when I was twenty-one…I had so very many dreams, but I didn’t have the money or the time or even the strength, courage and maturity to live them. I’ve grown up a lot in the intervening years, and my dreams have changed. There’s a song that expresses my feelings about life, Why, by Annie Lennox, and here are some of the words -
“This is the book I never read
These are the words I never said
This is the path I’ll never tread
These are the dreams I’ll dream instead
This is the joy that’s seldom spread
These are the tears…
The tears we shed
This is the fear
This is the dread
These are the contents of my head
And these are the years that we have spent
And this is what they represent
And this is how I feel”
Do you know how I feel?
See you tomorrow - Julia
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September 24th, 2010 at 2:02 am
Sadly sometimes life is too short. We should try to live for today as if tomorrow may never come.
September 24th, 2010 at 8:25 am
Oh, didn’t mean to make you cry, Julia! Content? Relieved is better term, I think. LOL! I am a bit surprised I made it this far and have decided I’d rather look at what’s gone right, than what went wrong. When I focus on the positive in my life, I’m just happier. I used to ski, too, and can’t anymore. I have osteoporosis, so probably not a good idea. LOL! But you know, with my writing, I can soar.
September 24th, 2010 at 8:34 am
Yup. I know. Kind of a maudlin post - tomorrow I’ll write about sex!
September 24th, 2010 at 8:45 am
Pauline - I guess relieved is a better word! But yeah, you made me cry. It’s like when I was a kid and I would imagine my parents dying and I’d burst into tears…like that! Yes, you can soar with your writing and you have the perspective to do it well - you can go as high as you wish. Haven’t we all thought - oh, to have the wisdom of a 60 year old and the body of a 30 year old???
I am very surprised to have made it this far. I never expected to live past 30 - I figured I’d be long since burned out and gone!
September 24th, 2010 at 8:52 am
True, though I was pregnant at thirty, so maybe would aim for 28. LOLOL!
I can remember wondering why anyone over 40 would WANT to go on living. LOL! Perspective really is everything. LOLOL!
September 24th, 2010 at 10:26 am
It’s definitely a bummer when your S.O. is sick! I’ve had a similar issue with writing lately, but it’s me who has been sick. Normally I can write regardless, but between this and the start of school for my daughter I froze in my writer tracks. After about a week or so of not writing anything I get pretty antsy, let me tell you, so the lyrics to WHY really hit home! Arggg.
I hope things get back to routine for you soon!
September 24th, 2010 at 10:35 am
The way I see it, by Monday he’ll be all better and back to work and I’ll be sick and left home alone to take care of myself, et al - that’s how it always is!
September 24th, 2010 at 1:30 pm
Yep, I know how it is!
A sick hubs is no fun. Strange thing is that at our house it’s usually the other way around: I’m getting ill first and hubs following right after me, as if his body thinks ‘ohno, I can’t do the chicken soup or pharmacy thing, let’s collapse too’. 
And that while hub’s the one bringing the viruses home from the hospital where he’s working, lol!
Love the Annie Lennox song text! Being in my thirties I’m trying hard not to think too much about those closing doors Pauline wrote about. I can see why they touched you, Julia!
September 24th, 2010 at 3:30 pm
Janna - yup! This has always been the peril of being a doctor’s wife, for me.
I love that Annie Lennox song. I too try hard not to think about any doors closing, but still, I think I’ll never have that mountain cabin I dreamed of in my twenties!