I don’t know why my brain insist I wake early in the mornings. Being retired means sleeping in. Perhaps my brain thinks I am still a young kid. I know that my mind and my body do carry on different conversations.
I rise before the daylight shines. I force myself to go back to sleep, only to awake an hour later. I hear the birds singing, which I do love to listen to. I sit up in bed and look around. I ask myself, what am I going to do today? There is many hours that lay between crawling under my bed covers again.
Part of me feels a peace. No stress slamming me is a nice thing. I think it is more about being tossed out of my comfort zone. That seems to be an issue with me ever since Al passed away.
I got used to being in demand. Al would honk the bike horn sitting on top of his bed side table, and I would go into his room and do what I could to help him. I remember him requesting me to start the movie The Christmas Story, over and over again. Still today, I can’t watch that movie, but some day I will.
I remember him asking me to help his pain. There were baths to give, bed sheets to change, meals to fix, feeding him, cleaning him, talking to him, watching TV shows together. He took a lot of work, but you know what? I didn’t mind at all. I knew he needed me.
Perhaps I have this illness that I am not aware of, which has a name, but has not been assigned to me yet. I bet it is called, Stuck in the Middle. Somewhere between seeing a future and seeing the past.
I talked to my daughter briefly last night. I got the feeling that she and many others believe I should be on cloud nine, as I am now in my own place. I am able to make my own decisions, go when I want, return when I choose, but something is missing.
I still feel weird inside. The truth is, I think I am done. I took care of so many patients and I took care of my dad and brother. This was my purpose here on earth. Now, I can’t work because of this Parkinson’s thing. Feeling off balance on my feet is a big issue in my life.
It has forced me to become part of the system. It forces me to remain in one spot. It keeps me from becoming better in the finances department. I feel like I don’t do anything but get through each day. I wait to crawl in bed.
I miss the past, I don’t see a future. I want it over. If I can’t have a better income, if I have to wonder where my next week of groceries are coming from, I am not interested. I know that sounds hmm, cold? uninterested? I guess it does, but these are facts I live with daily.
I have lost my purpose. Yes, that’s what it is. I want what I can’t have. I want my kids and grandchildren close to me. I want to be needed again. I think about volunteering at a hospital, but right now, those patients seem like strangers to me.
I do enjoy my camera still. I do love my painting, but to be very honest, the motivation is gone. I hate having to force myself to want to do these. I wish I would change. I can come out of church and be so happy that I am alive. I see light where there was darkness.
I am still loving helping the MSA patients, but I wish I could help in person, rather than through a black screen and keyboard. I still love writing poetry. I can see that I still enjoy some things in life, and this is a good thing.
But what is wrong with the rest of me? Why in the world would someone, anyone want to be stuck in neutral? I don’t know, I don’t get it nor understand it. I will get through the day. I will putter around my apartment, and then I will crawl back into bed.