The See-Saw & The Ick 2

One of the memorials was for a long-life, well-lived by a 95 year old.  “He was ready to die” said his daughter.  The other memorial was of a well-lived but too short life.  Her niece recounted how she and her aunt had talked through her disappointment that she wasn’t going to win her “brief but aggressive” cancer battle and her aunt’s eventual acceptance of this fact.

The cookouts were delightful – in addition to finger-lickin’ good food (topped off by peach cobbler at one and plum cake at another), there was dancing, impromptu singing, stories, jokes and laughter.
Later on Saturday evening, my husband and I had occasion to go to Mantra downtown and got our groove on.  We were too old for the crowd, but we didn’t care nor did they.  In fact, we, his cousin and his wife got the dancing started.  Don’t know if we’ll ever go back but it was fun and it reminded me of my “girlish” days when every Saturday night would find me out dancing.

Life is for the living and I lived fully last weekend.

Rain, Rain Go Away to Texas and other places you’re needed

The rains came in the wee hours of Monday morning and they stayed for four full days!  Grey clouds, chilly weather, torrential downpours.

The Icks
The icks are little annoyances – you know they’re little, perhaps even inconsequential but that doesn’t prevent them from making you feel icky.

Ick 1: The freezer in my frig stopped working on Sunday evening.  Can’t afford to replace a refrigerator.

Ick 2: Too rainy to walk and it’s chilly.  This means the weather has changed and summer is over.  It really is fall and it feels so sudden.

Ick 3: How bad will the basement flood?

Ick 4:  I’ve got a job interview, I have to figure out what to wear.  The summer wardrobe won’t cut it. Have to go dig through the bins with the fall clothes. (I know this is a trifiling complaint, but that’s what an ick is.)

Ick 5:  Good conversation in the interview.  The interviewer and other staff at the organization know me* and my work.  It occurs to me as I leave that I wasn’t asked certain questions and that perhaps I’d been interviewed out of courtesy and not out of the genuine possibility of being hired for the job.

Ick 6:  A check I’ve been waiting on since July has still not come despite assurances that it would be mailed last Friday.  Money flow icks have increased.

Ick 7: The pain of others, near (a buddy’s husband has no more hopes for treatments for his cancer) and far…all the press about the 10th anniversary of the World Trade Center bombings on September 11…finally get under my skin. 
Tears flood my eyes.  My heart aches.  I suck it up and pray and do the things that I can do – writing letters to friends, doing chores, offering to volunteer, reading while trying not to think about sickness, death, bad luck, and not enough money.
 
Ick 8:  I’m experienced enough, have lived long enough that I know I either will get the job or I won’t and that’s that.  Meanwhile, have to keep on looking until I get one.  No longer compelled to worry or analyze the situation.

Like most everybody I know, I’m on the see-saw, which means I’m still here.  That’s as good a place to be as any.


(*To know, know, know me is to love, love, love me except when someone can’t stand, stand, stand me. Oh, well.)

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If you like this post, you’ll probably also like…never mind.  I’m feeling to icky to choose another post you might like.  Sorry.