From June 12th, 2019:

I haven’t written anything in awhile, I know. Slap me with your splintered ruler. (Any Alanis fans out there?) It feels like a waste when I don’t write, like I’m throwing away perfectly good food that I’ve allowed to rot simply because I forgot to eat it. Yes, that happens more often than I care to admit. But I sit and I try to think if I have anything worthy to share. And most times, I don’t. So I don’t write one day. And one day turns to two, and that stretches into a week, and before I know it, a month has gone by and I haven’t shared a word.

Because I don’t have anything much to say.

Oh, I’m doing stuff, and I do have topics I’d like to write about, but most people have an idea of me: that I’m fairly happy-go-lucky, apart from my occasional outburst on fast lane slow drivers and what have you.

The truth is, sometimes I feel like I have bees in my head searching for a place to build a hive. It’s a relentless buzzing as they dart here, there, and yon, smacking into the sides of my skull and flying into each other because their radar doesn’t work in such close quarters at warp speed. Occassionally it’s a lazy drone, but they’re still there.

You have it too?

Well, I’ll be.

It’s not like I have big worries. I have a temperate place to lay my head, wonderful friends, a job I adore, reliable transportation (and it’s gorgeous), and good health. I have family that loves me. I have true friends.

But I’m just aggravated. And for no good reason that I can discern. Oh, no doubt I could medicate my problems away, but that’s never appealed to me. I prefer to eat ice cream or buy a new dress. Something like that.

I would like to blame this feeling of restlessness and inadequacy on my virtual farm, because I barely crack a book anymore due to the fact I can’t concentrate long enough. I could blame the rain for my gray attitude. I could get lost down the rabbit hole of all the dazzling vacations and perfect homes I will never acquire. But I ask myself, “Do I have enough?” And I do. I ask myself, “Do I have love?” And I do. I ask myself, “Do I have my health?” And I do. So it may not be the house of my dreams with a pool and a housekeeper, but I have all I need. I may not have a perfect husband to grow old with, but I have love from a thousand other people. I may not have perfect vision or an enviable figure, but I am not sick. So I have this. And sometimes I have to say it out loud or write it down to remind myself. Because I’m of a generation who has it all. But we forget. I’m not fighting a war, or living in a country where I have to carry water from an alligator infested river two miles on my head in a basket I wove from weeds to my bamboo and mud hut that my husband built when we turned fourteen. I don’t have to worry about getting mugged at the grocery store or shot as I do my job. Well, I guess anything is possible, if not probable. I can vote, I can wear pants and a tank top, I can drive as far as I want….if not as fast as I want.

But I feel pouty sometimes. And for the stupidest reasons. If I could learn not to put my happiness in another soul besides myself and God, I know I wouldn’t be so irritated all the time. I would say I expect too much out of people, but what I really expect is the truth. And reciprocation. People will positively drain you, sucking the life right out of you. It’s nothing you can help with beyond prayer, and really none of your business, either. Or you provide them with something to make their life easier for one day in time and next thing you know, they’re taking it every day without even asking anymore. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. Or maybe you’re one of those people who truly enjoy giving, always sending cards or baking cakes or what have you and one day you sit back and realize not one person has sent YOU a card or baked YOU a cake or even called to check on you. I see this commonly in churches, especially. A group of ten will do the work for a congregation of 150. It’s disgraceful. You tithe, but do you give freely from your heart?

I ain’t got no business going there, so I’ll shut up right now.

I’m watching it rain. I like rain. It makes me feel like my responsibilities can wait another day. “Oh, my retirement rollover? It was raining that day and I just couldn’t get out….”

I have no shortage of excuses when it comes to things like money that’s tied up in paperwork. And cleaning my car. And grocery shopping. And evidently, blogging.

My life is different today than it was a year ago. Better? Probably, but I have a hard time seeing that sometimes. It’s hard to wrap your mind around a totally different outcome than what you were expecting. It’s hard not to get down and wallow and cry until you die.

Just keep typing.

Do I have your attention? Do you know this feeling precisely? Are you hoping I won’t stop so I can validate your feelings too? Yes, I know. I’m reading Facebook memories, and you know how I always go on about funerals I attend of those I love. I’ll have another one for you today. Maybe I should go ahead and say what I have to say.

I don’t know what happened. And if I did, I might not even tell it. It wouldn’t bring him back.

When we say we were friends before birth, it’s the truth. Our mothers were friends, we just lived across the hill from each other. The girl is my age, and she had two younger brothers. We constantly tried to evade them. We grew up, and once we graduated high school, we grew apart. We’ve kept in touch via Facebook all these years, but we don’t go to White Star for hoagies and eat them on my porch anymore. Her brothers quit chasing us with worms several years prior.

She lost her younger brother several years ago. I don’t think I went to the funeral. She lost her Mamaw a few years after that. I did attend that one. And Sunday night, she lost her other brother, the one closest in age to us. And my heart hurts. What would it be like to be the only remaining sibling at this age? You think your brothers will be there to play Uncle for your children forever. You think you’ll always have them around to discuss your mother and go down memory lane with every now and then. I don’t know what else you do with brothers, because I’ve never had one, but I imagine her world is really shadowed today. So my thoughts are with her, and I guess I’m marred down in all of it. More expectations unfulfilled, a life cut short for reasons we can’t explain.

I’m sleepy. But I’m always sleepy, except when I’m supposed to be asleep.

*****Picking this back up six months later

I feel melancholy even more so in winter. It’s easy to hermit up and evade responsibilities (looking at you, bank statements) and not do anything when it’s winter and gray and cold. Wouldn’t we all rather be eating cake by the ocean?

Hmm. Cake by the ocean. I’ve had it, have you? Cake tastes good anywhere, but especially when your toes are in the sand.

So what have I learned in 2019?

I’d like to share some real wisdom here, but I’ve known it all along: pray, eat what you want to, but drink plenty of water, buy whatever it is you keep thinking about, GO, say YES. And know that things will change. They may not get better for awhile, but they will at least change so you’ll have something new to think about. Wishes do come true, but so do nightmares. Just keep breathing. People tell you to take it one day at a time…I know to tell you to take it one breath at a time. I’ve lived through several nights one literal breath at a time. Look for beauty and blessings in everything, even hardships. It’s teaching us something, preparing us for the next step. You don’t have to explain yourself to a soul. The only one who deserves it already knows. Let go and let God. I still say eating tangerines and taking naps keeps you healthy and volunteering changes your heart.

For whatever reason, bits of prayers that are always recited are coming to me now– “With every head bowed and every eye closed~” “Would you come?” “Bless the farmers that grew it and the hands that prepared it~” and it’s consoling.

I hope you all~~ every single eye who reads this~~ have a very Merry Christmas. Here’s to clearer vision and discernment in 2020. May we all have a reason to believe.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy