Yesterday, I admit it. No words in my head. Lots of images for future posts to come, while ten fingers rested ever-so-lightly atop an old keyboard friend. Not once did they press a printed letter up or down. Never, did I see a word appear on my old familiar screen. Instead, it remained blank the whole day through. Like a ghost of white, it called out to me through French glass doors of an empty library room when darkness fell.
The last month of travel, together with visiting my dear Great-Aunt, seemed to sap the energy from one bone to the next. Whispers of my old St. Louis town wafted through open windows as our car traveled back from Michigan.
When I woke-up the next morning, I heard the message loud and clear. “Take a rest,” my body said. Still, there were appointments already made. Red X’s penned on the calendar that told me so. “Get up,” they said. Oh, how I hated to get out of bed!
Suitcases were unpacked the night before. Clothes in lumpy piles plumped among the sunlit, wooden floor to be sorted sometime later. Garbage cans were dragged across the driveway to the curb before whisking ‘Doodle Dog’ off to the groomer. Whew…..a fresh smelling bath with a trim for him!
With seconds to spare, I made it to a doctor’s appointment. Yes, barely on time. Annual blood tests taken with an X-ray, too. Next, I stopped to pick up my husband’s dress shirts from the cleaners, all perfectly pressed. He’ll be flying in late from work tomorrow. One thing less for him to do. A few minutes later, my cell phone rang. It was the dentist calling to remind me, “one more time.” Off with my head! Truth be told, I think I’d rather…J
A few calls on my Bluetooth to check-in with my son and some friends before stopping at the store for milk and bread. Maybe a banana, some salad and a chicken breast or two. I’m almost afraid to check my e-mail box. It’s been several days. There wasn’t any service in the thick woods of Michigan. I may tackle that chore next, I guess.
My ‘words’ will come to me, tomorrow and hopefully the next. They’re in my head, perhaps hiding under a wished for mattress or squeaky springs with a fluffy feather pillow. When time is taken off, the clock at home seems to stop. Yes, my work has piled up. It’s waiting for me. Yet, all is worth it in the end. Life is fleeting, gone too fast.
Hmmm…When I think of God’s gift of feelings that I’ve just been given, the waiting work hardly seems to matter. My sweet baby grandson held against a beating chest, napping in my arm, or resting upon my lap. My precious grand-daughter giggling with delight, her ringlets of curls swinging like a picture postcard against a backdrop lake of blue.
When on my death-bed, will I wish that I had worked a little harder for one more day or rested just a little longer? Never for a second against that backdrop lake of blue…..