Fall

Today's earworm: Fall at Your Feet (James Blunt), a cover version of a Crowded House song.  I'm sure I've posted it before - I came across it while listening to the iPod, and it hits just right. 

Credit Where Credit's Due

 Beloved Husband gave me a Harry Potter-themed purse for our anniversary this year.  (It was an unspectacular anniversary otherwise, seeing as I had COVID at the time. Nevertheless, the gifts were quite thoughtful.) It's an excellent purse: backpack style (my favorite kind), just the right size, subtle, tasteful. Nice.

As I've mentioned previously, I've had a spate of routine maintenance appointments lately, plus have also run a bunch of errands -- gone to the pharmacy and the grocery store and the eyeglass place and the bookstore and whatnot. (I'm the only one wearing a mask these days, but that doesn't bother me: I have festive holiday-themed masks! What could be better?) The purse has come with me everywhere, and I've received numerous compliments on the purse. Everyone loves it. 

Each time someone comments on the purse, I give appropriate credit to Beloved Husband: thank you - I need to give credit where credit is due, it was a gift from my husband. He did a good job. And the compliment-giver invariably says, he did! 

And they're right. He did!

I think that there's a tendency, not only in the media but in society in general, to portray husbands as being poor gift-givers. People roll their eyes and scoff at men in general and husbands in particular when it comes to presents, and allow them to maintain deliberate incompetence in the gift-giving department. We're doing men a disservice. They can do better. We should let them. And we should always give credit where credit is due. If they do a good job, we should say so. 

I really like my purse. Thanks, Beloved Husband!

The Angels Who Walk Among Us

 Herself speaks.

I had a short text conversation this past week with my mother-in-law. We'll call her Buela, because that is what everyone calls her. 

Buela inquired after my parents' health, and I let her her know that things are going as well as possible. She was delighted to hear. She then she inquired after Cherished Friend, saying that she hoped he was doing well also. I answered in the affirmative and let her know I had spoken to him recently. And she replied:

Mija, that is wonderful! Please give him my regards next time you talk to him, tell him he is not forgotten. <3 

And this simple statement somehow both broke my heart and healed it. She keeps my Cherished Friend in her prayers and in her heart, always, even though she hasn't seen him for years, because she knows how important he has been, and continues to be, to me and my family. 

This is the kind of person Buela is: she loves a person, because someone she loves, loves that person. 

It is the kind of person I try to be. 

What a shining example of Love. Buela, an angel among us. 

Lovely Oceanside

Every time Cherished Friend captures and sends an image of Oceanside, I think:

What a lovely place. I am so happy for him.

I hope, every day, that the beauty and the water and the natural life all around him, bring him some genuine moments of well-deserved Peace.

Unexpected Side Effects

 It's been nearly two weeks on the new migraine meds, and.... they might actually be working. (KNOCK WOOD.) The nearly-constant headache has diminished significantly. I've only needed one rescue triptan in this timeframe. I'm not quite in the clear yet, but things do seem a bit better. It's almost too good to be true. I have another four weeks to go before I can make a decision about whether to continue, or whether to try a different option, but I'm (extremely) cautiously optimistic. We shall see.

One unexpected side effect of the lack of omnipresent headache is: there is room for Feelings. And Feelings have made themselves known, and occupied space, accordingly. 

Boy howdy. I don't know what to do with them.

There are a lot of Feelings this time of year, anyway -- Holidays always trigger dormant wants, needs, desires. Old memories, new longings. And right now, with my lovely Daddy's poor health and the Phantom of Things To Come lurking in the corners, there are even more Feelings abounding. With all these Feelings frolicking, the old faithful companions of Abandonment and Unbelonging join in the fray. And here I am, spectator to the gathering.

I don't know which Feelings need attention -- if any. Do I just acknowledge them? Observe them as they pass by? Do I need to converse with them? Or do I need to... actually Feel them? Um, no thank you. There are too many.

I want to try to explain the situation to Beloved Husband, but I think it is too much for him to understand -- or perhaps I lack adequate words. My statement to him of, I am tired, yields a response of, Me too. I don't doubt that he is tired. But there seems to be a full qualitative difference in our respective Tiredness. His Tired, borne of demanding clients and endless Hard Work, is different from my Exhausted-from-All-The-Feelings Tired. I do my best to help him with his Tired, but I am not sure how to begin to ask for help with my Tired. I am not even sure if there is something that will help.

I think that perhaps some time in Nature will help. 

Some place with pine cones. Because evergreens are my favorite.

That would be lovely. 

One day at a time. 

Insured

 The other evening, Offspring the Second and I were communicating about health insurance. He is picking a new plan. We went over premiums, co-pays, co-insurances, deductibles, how to balance all the things. 

I realized: he is a fully-fledged adult. And I am so incredibly proud of him.

-----

I don't write often about Offspring the Second, because he is an extremely private person. But he launched himself into the world on his own a little more than a year ago now. He found himself a job, and another job, and an apartment, and overcame some tricky obstacles, and purchased a vehicle, and navigated vehicle insurance, and done all the grown-up things, and has flourished. He asks for nothing (even though I would happily give him anything). He is Getting It All Done, all on his own. Which, I think, was his ultimate goal when he left home.

He's so bright, so diligent, so thoughtful. So quietly observant. Witty. Delightful. I miss having him at home. Yet I am so glad that he is achieving his goals. 

My lovely young man. Well done. I hope life continues to bring you everything your heart desires. 

Inner Peace

I found it! Of sorts. At the bookstore.