The clutter of the weekend--
Easter weekend. Sorting, throwing out, setting aside, packing in boxes to store or to take up to B'ville to unload or store THERE---WHERE?
Such was my weekend. I blurred the lines on two of the pictures---my motive---to show the mind blurred by fibro fog. A symptom of fibromyalgia is "fibro fog." When it occurs for me, my mind seems to be enveloped in this thick, heavy fog. Simple decisions are difficult. The smallest picture is clear to represent the "norm." It's also small because when I have tasks like packing to perform, experiencing the norm has the smallest chance, but the "Big" fog---oh yeah.
Now for the dialogue that goes on in my head:
"Where do I start? How do I start? Where do I put this?"
"In the box," logic answers.
"Which box? How do I wrap it? Do I use just bubble wrap or should I put tissue paper around the bubble wrap?"
"Just wrap."
"Okay, one Lladro statue wrapped. Two pewter candlesticks wrapped. More pewter. More Lladro, then a glass dish."
"Uh, Beth?"
"Yes?"
"Put the pewter on the bottom and the Lladro and glass on top."
"Oh, yeah, right. Der?!" Two boxes down and five to go. Guess I'm not heading up north tonight. Okay, another box.
"Now what do I do with this drawer full of stuff?" Do I throw it out or pack it? Oops, I forgot the art stuff under the bed in the guest room! Oops the angels in the guest room! Oops the attic! HELP!"
"Okay, go sit down, eat some protein, pray, and come back later. Try not to cry--it only makes the fog worse."
"Okay."
And that's my world when the fog descends.
Most of the items you see in the pictures were packed. (Some of the items were supposed to stay.) I got all done that I wanted except the stuff under the bed. As it turned out, I didn't have room in the SUV anyhow. I made it to B'ville by 3:30 PM Monday. I intended to arrive home about 3 AM Monday. Oh--that's another part of my fibro lifestyle --- being awake and ALERT in the wee hours of the morning.
And I was smiling at work today because my faith and my sense of humor pull me through.
That night I crawled into bed around 1 AM. My husband, sound asleep, still sensed my presence and shifted to envelop me in his arms. For many years I lived with a husband who would chastise me for my "fogginess" . When he "put me out to pasture," God brought this gentle, kind, patient friend from the past back into my life. He shows his love in many ways such as putting a light by the back door and not telling me, so that after he left for Cinci, I was greeted with a lamp to "light my way" when I come home late at night.
Such is God's way---He gently reminds us daily how much He loves us.
"The Lord is good; for His mercy, tender kindness and steadfast love endure forever."
Jeremiah 33:11
For more on gentleness, check out http://www.bridgetchumbley.com.
When I came to the reference to the Lladro statue, I remembered a Christmas gift I gave my mother 42 years ago - a Lladro shepherd boy (holding a wooden staff). She still has it.
ReplyDeleteYour gentle post evoked a gentle memory.
Very good post!
ReplyDeleteYou have depicted this well ... both verbally and visually. And I can appreciate how much you appreciate your husband.
ReplyDeleteSounds like we are both blessed beyond imagination with delightful, gentle, and caring husbands... could never have expected someone who treats me like a queen. Struggling with FM and the various "kickers", I'm so glad you have someone who loves you for who you are.
ReplyDeletePacking is miserable even without the 'fog' you are describing. It sounds like you know how to deal with it all very well... thanks for sharing this with us.
ReplyDeletePurposely blurring the lines of the pictures to depict your fog. That grabbed at me. And your husband sounds like a gem. Oh--and I noticed the Meijer bag, which means we could be neighbors. :)
ReplyDelete