The past days have felt like a roller coaster of emotion. Over 12 hours on Saturday I worked my ass off around the house. The interior of the four walls I call home really needed help. After a trip away to the east coast for my brother’s interment at Arlington and four days of a butt kicking cold I had to face up to my evil nemesis entropy’s doings. The interior of my home was splattered and disarrayed spin art at its best.
Groaning the dinning room table held bills and notes a foot deep. Deep as it was my sink stood filled with dishes. The laundry was 2-3 feet in depth in two separate piles, delicates and the rest of it. Vigorously I rolled up my sleeves and set about righting the disaster as my wife went out first with one child accompanying her and then with the other in tow to shop at various locales. Six loads of a standard sized washer, washed folded and put away.
The dishes got done and the papers got shoved aside. I started the grill for lunch. I boiled the eggs for the potato salad. I unloaded the car when each shopping trip ended. Stuff got done.
In a rare change of pace both Primus and Secundus committed to the effort. One cleaned bathrooms, the other vacuumed floors. It isn’t the land of Martha Freakin’ Stewart but it is a far sight better than it used to be.
Accepting about an hour’s grace between tasks and the long awaited nightlife we had booked I spent an hour soaking in the tub. Warm water pulled away the aches in the space between the house work and the theatre.
We went to see the Book of Mormon. Filthy. Rude. It was SO FAR OVER THE TOP that I laughed until I cried. The Spooky Mormon Hell Dream has a very close analog to the Baptist Spooky Hell Dream. The latter is one I am all so familiar with. Remember the part that burns most in hell is the part you sin with. And then that day was done.
A fun quirk to the day was that I decided to document the day from start to finish on Facebook. I left out the morning ablutions together with any bathroom breaks and the darkness at days end when I lay waiting for sleep. Posting images of the flaming grill and of the dishes in the sink got people talking and quipping. It made the hours of work pass faster. The resignation at labor is close to universal.
And then came Father’s Day. Breakfast was delivered in bed. There was an omelet. There were juice and coffee. There were chocolate dipped strawberries. A day that starts with coffee and chocolate dipped strawberries can’t be all bad can it?
We trekked out and went to Ann Arbor for a day trip. We sought out used record stores. We grabbed coffees and teas. Ice cream was had. And then home we went. In the evening I talked with friends about life while one recovers from hip surgery. I am not expecting any soon but the husband had undergone the procedure. He stated he feels much better and that when his muscles heal his ability to move about will be vastly increased.
But always in the background hangs darkness. I am not depressed but others I know are facing great and grave challenges. The darkness is something that is palpable, something that is almost immutable. There is only so much I can do. But I will try and break the cycle of darkness.
When you are up on the highs of accomplishment and honor, a clean house and Father’s Day honor it is a wonderful thing. When you are down on the swirling eddies of depression and broader life challenges it is not so wonderful.
Acceptance and awareness, enlightenment don’t know what it is.
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