… was a very influential novel on my young impressionable self, with its portrayal of a young woman “going down for the count“. Snippets float through my consciousness as I dog-paddle to keep my nose above water. My financial situation has improved but remains tenuous; I desperately need to sell the mobile unit & finish the remodeling of my surgical suite so we can move out of the surgery trailer and I can sell that piece of equipment also… Nevertheless, it’s gonna take years for me to rebuild my devastated retirement account.
And yet here I sit, fretting about weekend plans** and the handful of rides I plan on hauling away to this fall.
** I am meeting another cousin at my aunt’s house on Saturday to retrieve a truckload of her big ceramic planters and complete my nostalgic farewells. Hopefully we’ll have time to drive out to the new lake and see the renewed landscape - The only landmark remaining from my cousin’s dairy farm is the old silo.
I want to transcribe some more complicated family history, but I need to get sympathy cards in the mail to my cousin Denise’s daughters on the loss of their father. I’m debating whether to address one to Denise herself, but I may just make that a generic “Thinking of You” card. Maybe I’m hopelessly old-fashioned, but I still appreciate getting cards in the mail. This also reminds me to write my overdue pen-pal Leslie!
I mailed Katie (my brother-in-law’s widow) one of my precious few Z graduation announcements about a month ago with a short note, giving her my email address since that is vastly preferable to Royal Mail, but have not heard anything from her. I cannot take these things personally as I know full well “we are all busy”.
Tomorrow will mark 1 week of Sam’s return to India to sort out care for his elderly mother. (He had texted me upon arrival as he was waiting for his brother-in-law to pick him up at the airport) God help me, I must get my own showered today - breaking out the air freshener & Vick Salve! And a Costco run for her hygiene supplies…
“I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long perspective of shades that set off one box from the next day had suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.”
― The Bell Jar
I read The Bell Jar as a young single, and found it disturbing, but I have to admit as I lived more of life, I understood it better. The passage you quote could echo in anyone who has experienced sleep deprivation and the associated low times... but it really speaks of the author's depression.
ReplyDeleteSending mental support from afar for your working at getting your mother taken care of!
(from Tish; I don't know why Blogger is being contrary??)
ReplyDeleteTo you most recent blog - The Bell Jar- I can relate as I was profoundly affected by reading, "Death Be Not Proud" and "Of Mice And Men" at a young age. I often wonder if the latter is how I ended up initially being a psych major who wanted to be a clinical psychologist dealing with the mentally retarded. I had visited a facility in high school and was touched by the children there. I even worked there for a summer as the assistant to a man with that position. The summer job was my mom and her boyfriend's idea. His golf buddy was the head of the center. My mom and her boyfriend were fried at the thought of me doing this and they knew I was not cut out for it.
The psychologist I shadowed was burnt to a crisp and sadistic as all get out and I did see the light. The former book could have influenced my decision to be a nurse when a college counselor recommended it to me. It was a far cry from what I had planned to do. I wanted to work in a lab and avoid people.
Cancer has destroyed any hope of being financially comfortable for the future for us.
In my area it is so bad that the representatives talk in their weekly
updates that the post office is a mess and it is unreliable at
delivering the mail so I wouldn't assume your family even got the cards.
We are lucky if we get our bills. The post office is dead.