The Five Strands of A Sedentary Empress

Not just leaves in the air.

Things just feel 'off' as of late. There have been all sorts of deaths in the air, people I don't know but who I know through other people or layoffs and restructurings. My friend's father-in-law rushed to emergency by ambulance with what they thought was a heart attack, but turned out to be a gall bladder attack. It was serious enough to require immediate surgery since it was infected and on its way to killing him. My nephew Shamus went to the pediatrician today because he's had a cold for a month and my sister found out at the appointment that he's dropped eight pounds since July, which is astounding for a three-year-old. Obviously, there is controlled panic there on her part but until the test results come back, there's no reason to project or wail. My other sister's miscarriage was a huge downer as is my gall bladder stuff and subsequent fatless diet which is not pleasing, not pleasing at all. I've lost some weight, though, and it is weight I can afford to lose so that makes me a little happier, and the new diet I'm trying to make routine is relieving me of the pain I'd been feeling off and on for a year. It's odd how what you put in your mouth can truly determine your health and happiness. This puzzles me because I've always known it, and continued to abuse myself anyway. Humans can be outrageously stupid at times.

I hate to say it's November's fault because it's just a month, isn't it? How can all the hard stuff come up when the leaves hit the grass? Is there some sort of cosmic cycle? I suppose it's possible, sure. It seems weird to me that every November I can remember has been dramatic and trying since childhood, each one possessing a mix of heavy gravity and worrisome anticipation.

The last week has been an odd one for me, with the sensation of being a balloon which is tethered to the earth by a splitting hair. Some days, things don't seem real, but I try to chalk that up to depersonalization which is a common phenomenon for people like myself. Last night, after spending a few hours out of the house, I returned to find it looking foreign to me, something I have never liked. No matter where I've lived, any time I spend time away from home in an area which is unknown to me, I return to my familiar surroundings carrying that feeling of strangeness. Can anyone else relate?

Of course, last night was also a night of happy circumstance. My wee one's painting had been chosen to be part of the local hospital's Student Art Gallery, and opening night was last evening. We did not rush, nor did we make much of a commotion about it because we both thought that many kids' works were selected and that it was sweet, but not a big deal. Imagine our surprise to get there (late) and realize that this was something of a prestigious event, with an auditorium filled with families and a panel of judges sitting in front of a podium. Is she a little artist? formal looking people asked as they moved toward us, and we nodded and smiled with confusion as Katriona took a seat on the floor in front of a huge screen. Then, the music started and the screen was filled with images of art, some raw and some beautiful, and when I realized how big an honour it was for her work to have been chosen, I got misty-eyed. When her painting came up, I beamed. It was called 'Walking to school/Do you like my hair?', and the hair on the girl in the painting was green. Everyone laughed, and they 'aaaawwww-ed' when she got up to shake the hands of the judges and received her certificate because she was one of the youngest in the room. She was one of about fifty kids in the entire county whose work was chosen, and M. and I stared at one another in amazement. Beaming, I tell you. I was proud mommy holding heavy coats in the doorway to a jam-packed auditorium, struggling to focus on the deliciousness of the moment, rather than on the heavy anxiety of being forced into a corner by the hoards of other tardy family members who were straining to see what was going on. I know she didn't have much of a clue what was happening, and was mostly happy that she was gifted a cd of music (a gift for the youngest artists in the gallery), but I kept looking at her and thinking 'She's mine. I made her with a man I love.' There's a lot of power in a moment like that.

So, yes, there are a lot of weird things floating in the air today, not the least of which is the solemnness in remembering the soldiers who died across the ocean so many years back. I am thinking of my grandfather, the one who got muddy and bloody on a beach in France, and I've been thanking him in my head for all the terror and sadness he must have felt so that others wouldn't have to feel it. I am grateful to him for living through it so that I can be here now to know he did. I did not meet him, was born eight years after he left the land of the living, but I know what he was about, I think. I know he was mostly good, that it hurt him to kill other people when he was taught his whole life that it was wrong, and that suddenly he was forced into it by a godless war that damaged his soul, twisted his heart. I would have liked to have known him, especially since I sometimes look into the mirror and see his face in my own. It's a very odd feeling, to know that he's in here, but it's mostly a nice thing.

Also, I must say that I was thrilled to have done so well in the FTL competition. It was humbling and it made me smile.

The wee one wants macaroni and cheese for dinner. Could be tough to restrain myself, but I prefer feeling pain-free, and if I'm going to sacrifice a night of peace for any kind of food, I'd rather it be for french fries, or camembert and bread, or chocolate ice-cream, or something slathered in mayonnaise, or...