Grandkids Are Natural Healers

It’s been a busy day. I  am having an issue with my car that the dealership can’t seem to find. Googling and trying different things has drained me so that this evening, I am not doing that much.

I will put my faith in God and hope that my car problem is not going to financially drain me and not take hours and hours to fix. It is absolutely absurd at what mechanics charge per hour. I was told that if it takes them 12 hours to finally find the issue, that would be a charge of by the hour, not including the price of the part or time to fix. So anyone want to say some prayers for me and my car, I would really appreciate it.

I have felt so many times that I am bouncing not only in mind but also physically. My family must be going crazy trying to keep up with my emotions. I wish it was so simple. A fix of one thing  and all is once again well.

I know I have been like this since Al and my dad died. My life was turned upside down and ever since I have struggled to find myself. I gave up living on my own because of my Parkinson’s. This in itself is a huge issue. Not only for me, but for the family I moved in with and my children up north.

I moved down south with family and I have my own room, and I have to accept that even if I lived in a brand new tent, there would be changes I would have to make. When you aren’t on your own, you just don’t have that same routine you once had.

When I was up north those two months for the holidays, I had no idea how much the grandchildren would be a natural medicine for me. This is something you can’t ask the doctor for in prescription form. You can’t run to the pharmacy and fill a script.

When I returned south, something was missing. Of course, I missed my kids up north. I didn’t miss the cold or the snow, even though we had a nice big snow  here. I began to become sad again. I quit trying to do the little things I used to do to feel better about myself.

There is no sense in it. I am alive, and this is reason enough to want to get up and make myself pretty, and live a good life, but for some reason I can’t. I have more time on my hands. It is quiet and I have opportunities to think about things I have done wrong, or things I may have been able to make a difference in if I would have taken the time to think it out.

But you and I both know, you can’t go back. It isn’t healthy for me to think about the what ifs and whys. When I was surrounded by grandchildren who talked about what they did at school, and listened to so much giggling, I didn’t think about my past. I only thought about the present.

It is no one’s fault for me being the way I am. Sometimes I think I have lost my mind, but then I know there are still passions I have within me and if I was a crazy lady, I wouldn’t recognize anything outside the box.

I think it comes down to one thing pretty much. I am a diabetic, have Parkinson’s and there are suspicions of another illness that could change my life a lot. I think now of this day and how do I want to fill my days until I am gone.

So unless something happens this coming weekend I am moving back up north. I know my family here will miss me. I am pretty sure they wonder what in the world is wrong with me. All I know, is it feels right, so let the packing begin.