Life seems to be getting the best of me. It is a weary time. There is rain, but that is not the reason. I love the rain. I flung the windows open, lifted the linen drapes and welcomed in the fat and furious rain drops. Only when the pillows began to become damp, did I feel the need to shut the window, a little bit...
No, I am in a winter weary. Loving the rain, but overwhelmed by the trials of daily life. My eldest had gone off to school but struggles with the day to day activities of life on one's own. It is difficult not to let her know at every turn how fortunate she is, because the fact remains...she will only know when she knows.
So, we drove her six hours north. We tidied her kitchen. We spent an extraordinary amount of money at Trader Joe's, stocking her larder with all things moderately healthy, but quick and easy. This was all in hopes that if food is covered, then studying should be easy to slip in to the schedule.
As we drove south toward the highway, the phone rang, "Do you want me to come back?" I asked.
"Yes, please."
So she is here. I did what I would want my mother to do. Give me time. We have time. School starts on Monday. Another drive through the fertile California valley, to the sea. I have time.
Today, I wait. I wait to rise to the occasion.
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