Delayed gratitude & I am not the cheese

Young scarlet runner beans
The new scarlet runner beans, which need to be thinned--but it's hard to let go fo anything.

Read at your own risk. Or stop reading now.

Think about something good.

It’s Wednesday, and usually I’d write about writing. But I’m behind. I missed my Sunday Gratitude Journal post, caught in an odd time of gratitude and hope.

I was going to write about the bald eagle and the great blue heron and the baby scarlet runner beans. I’m thankful for all of them.

But we had an incident on Sunday, and I need to avoid the details. (Gosh, I hate it when people do that.) For now, I can say only that I’M THANKFUL it wasn’t worse. On the scale of 1 to catastrophic, probably a 2 or a 3. But there are complications. Not good.

Think about something good.

Then last night, after four whole days (somewhat) at home from college, my daughter moved out–deciding that a curfew was too high a price for free meals, free laundry, use of the car, and time with family. Some shouting involved. Not good.

And yes, I sound bitter and my feelings are hurt and I miss her and I did the same thing when I was 19. Different reasons, but I moved out.

So here we are in this limbo, hanging onto hope and trying to be thankful for the small moments–the baby at the supermarket and little dogs and the rock roses across the street from the bus stop–and I’m trying to think about something good, all the good things.

How do you get through this? It’s not the worst, but it’s still the fear of losing and leaving and failing miserably.

Writing. It sounds like stuff for a poem, but I can’t write about it–now. I’ve even tried. It was a little scary, a little dark. Maybe someday, when I grow up enough to see it from some other points of view–as in, not all about me.

I hope to get back to the good old-fashioned gratitude on Sunday, back to writing and even writing about writing.

cheese on a plate; image from Office.comIn the meantime, I worry that I’ll just piss everyone off and no one will ever speak to me again. Yesterday, I confided to a friend that I’m afraid I’ll end up like the Farmer’s cheese in the dell, standing alone. She told me it’s a cycle and this part will be over, maybe sooner than later. She said, “You are not the cheese.”

I am not the cheese.

Think about something good.

4 Replies to “Delayed gratitude & I am not the cheese”

  1. It’s good that your daughter is independent enough to even want to move out. So many folks these days are living with their parents forever!
    I moved out right before my eighteenth birthday, and I couldn’t wait, even though, yes, there were tears from my mother (it wasn’t over curfew and I was already doing my own laundry, though.)
    There are so many things in life we cannot know until we encounter them, and living alone will give her that opportunity. Think of the good things you will get out of this – for instance, less laundry and cooking, more writing time! The chance for your daughter to miss you and appreciate you – yes, it will happen. And I believe any daughter of yours is strong and smart and going to make her way in this world, just like you!
    Big love and good thoughts…

  2. Thanks for the good perspectives. She’s already quite the laundry and cooking champ, so I’ll miss her help–although not as much as I’ll miss her.

  3. Been there. Survived.

    And still it goes on.

    (We could get together for a glass of wine….)


  4. Thanks, T. Feeling a little calmer so far today. Working on it. And yes, let’s get together. We have a lot of wine.

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