Note: I wrote the following in a fit of frustration, anxiety and sadness two weeks ago. Some things have changed since then (some things haven’t), but I thought it was still worth sharing as a snapshot of my state of mind that others might relate to.
I can solve NOTHING!
I can’t get the handle on the fireplace damper fixed or replaced.
To be more precise, the company hasn’t called back to offer any solutions.
I can’t get a spare tire or ‘donut’ in case of a flat tire.
To be more precise, if I get a spare it will take up the whole trunk.
Not a good option.
Donuts are difficult to find. I can get a used one shipped from Arizona or California for a lot of money.
The Honda dealership offers no options or solutions.
I went to AutoZone and a helpful man showed me the tire sealant he recommends. I bought it and threw it in my trunk.
I will keep my AAA membership – I’ve been getting good use of it these past two months.
I will pray that if I get a flat, I’m in cell phone range.
I can’t get a memorial stone for Aunt Clair.
She wanted a footstone placed at her mother’s grave, though she herself chose to be cremated.
It comforted her to think of it.
I ordered one and paid for it immediately after she died six months ago.
After many emails and layers of approval, from the burial society and the cemetery,
After mock-ups back and forth,
The dates are wrong on the latest one.
Must it be so difficult?
Is it time for Plan B? What is Plan B?
I have an idea,
But it doesn’t have Aunt Clair’s seal of approval.
I may have to live with that.
I’ll give it one more shot with the monument company, then we move on.
I can’t get my mother’s insulin regimen straight.
Her doctor rarely responds to my calls or emails.
I placed another call this morning.
Fortunately, Mom is getting her insulin
Though her glucose is not well controlled.
Ironic given that I am married to an endocrinologist.
It is not his fault, nor can he manage this in a day-to-day way
For many reasons.
I can’t convince my granddaughter to make her entrance into the world.
She is 9 days late and counting.
I am grateful that all appears to be well with mom and baby,
But we are on pins and needles.
We are at loose ends.
I know patience is a virtue
Sadly, I was not blessed with it.
Is this a test?
I can’t resolve my laryngitis.
A month into this
A course of steroids
After ten days, I can at least make sound, I can talk on the phone
So that is an improvement,
But, is this hoarseness permanent?
Of course, it could be worse.
It could be my grandchild gunned down in school.
It could be my friend murdered in a supermarket.
That is small comfort.
So much struggle
Can we hope for more than being grateful that we weren’t in the site of a gunman?
Update: There is some good news. There is hope for movement on gun safety legislation. It isn’t enough, it isn’t what I would want, but I am a pragmatist about public policy. Something is better than nothing and hopefully it can be built upon.
Our granddaughter did make her entrance into the world – the day after I wrote this she arrived. We are thankful and in love with the peanut.
I haven’t had to call AAA in the last two weeks – but I don’t want to jinx myself as I will be driving quite a bit over the next few weeks!
Aunt Clair’s monument is still unresolved, we are still struggling with Mom’s diabetes though she seems to be stable, and I am still hoarse. Of lesser importance, the damper on our fireplace is still not repaired – and the guy who said he would pave our driveway a month ago hasn’t been in touch. I figured I’d throw that in since that is another one of those things that feels out of my control.
Despite the remaining frustrations, I am in a much better frame of mind than when I wrote my screed of exasperation and anxiety, and for that I am grateful.