June and the grass grows by itself today..

Watching the malaise that has crept over me for the past few days I have been aware of being filled with a heaviness and a sense of dis-ease.  My back has ached and I've been walking around with a cloud of dismality over my head.  When I asked myself what was going on I came up with the same old, same old - basically no real answer and today when I woke up and happened upon a calendar I realised that this is just about the time of the anniversary of my son's death.  Funny how the date comes around even when I have no anticipation or build up on a conscious level.  It just arrives and what arrives with it is an overwhelming, historic sadness that I am a bit more able to witness and allow to pass.





Now that I know that this is what has been going on in the background of my daily life I can stop being at the mercy of the misery and carry on with my life.  I can put the skip back into my step and enjoy the sunshine. It is remarkable to me that once I saw that this was at the root of this disharmony, how quickly I was able to allow the feeling but no longer be at the mercy of it.  Great progress I believe.  All things are possible.


Today I got a new bread bin.  Trivial, silly and commonplace and also funny how pleased I am with this tiny bit of shiny stainless steel.  I think our old bin, a shiny bit of stainless steel, gave us daily service for at least 25 years, so the replacement, a bit smaller, a bit shinier, but to all intents and purposes, is exactly the same.  


So strange to begin to look at things and try to assess if this is 'the last' of this.  Will I never buy another bread bin?  How many more things in my home that I am slowly fixing, replacing or discarding will be the last of their kind?  Will I live to be 100 - should I get the most expensive saucepans with a lifetime guarantee?  After all, if I buy the cheaper ones that will only last for 10 years, maybe that will be enough.  Will a lifetime guarantee be a waste of money?  What madness being a 21st century consumer really is and trying to predict whether I will have a longer life span than a bread bin.  I certainly hope so, but if not, I'll leave a quality legacy.


As the malaise of the last few days begins to lift, its place is being taken by a fidgety restlessness.  In days gone by I would have easily channeled that restless energy into a marathon of shopping, but that activity no longer holds as much pleasure as it once did.  I am sure that I have more than enough clothing to last me for years longer than the new bread bin and I have so many shoes that I could trek around the world and never wear out any one pair. How very convenient that as I age I also become discerning enough too see that the fashions that look great on Lady GaGa are no longer an option for me.  Mini skirts, wedge-heeled shoes and over-sized handbags are finished for me.  At my age and my shape I might just as well wear the bread bin. Sometimes invisibility is an advantage.


So today meanders on, not up, not down, but suddenly not restless at all, just very, very tired.  I guess my way of dealing with the passage of the days is to sleep for a lot of them, especially the ones that have pangs of sadness attached to them. For the most part I'm fine and that's enough for now.