Illness of any kind is no fun at all. An ache here. A pain there. Pretty soon, they all get together and insist that you stop and rest. I found myself in this predicament during the last few days. When your body is complaining, it’s easy for your mind to chime right in. Pretty soon, you are a sad sack of pity, having a party for one. Well, I didn’t fall quite that far, but found myself with happiness a fingertip out of reach.
Moving slower than normal, I’ve been sloth-ing around. Watch a sloth. They can’t even reach for a piece of fruit quickly. Wearing my favorite sloth PJ’s, I was that slow when reaching for my coffee. It was then that I decided to retrieve the mail. On my front porch, strange new odor hung in the air. A pungent odor, unmistakable, that can put terror into the mind of any new widow. Even the strongest of the strong widow. Effluent. In layman’s terms, liquid waste or sewage.
Winterpast has an odd design. Although attached to the city sewer system, she sits below the pipes at the street, making it necessary to have a SEWAGE LIFT SYSTEM, (the maintenance all my responsibility, of course), like a very necessary elevator lifting everything away from my house to the street. THIS is broken. For two weeks. And now, it complains loudly, by leaking liquid into my yard. This, I discover, while ache-ing and pain-ing on the way to my mail box.
Along with this disaster, (which I am still trying to mitigate), there is another one. My new spa, pristine and wonderful, sits in the back yard without a cover. I paid for a cover that wasn’t delivered. A windstorm blew in, with and entire night of 60 mile an hour winds. Leaves blew in and found their way into my bubbling vat of soothing jets, (at least 1,052 of them). Right after discovering the problem in the front yard, I discovered that my spa had turned a beautiful color seen in watercolor paintings. The leaves were clogging my brand new dual suction, turbo charged filters. All because, the cover I bought and paid for hasn’t yet arrived.
Plopping down on my couch, I will confess to you, I had a few thoughts that didn’t include happiness. With those, I realized, I had to stop. I first needed to listen to my body and take inventory of what I could do to change either of these situations.
With a phone call, I was on the line with “Plumber and a Wrench” in the next town. Now, I know a lot about a lot. But, a woman seldom has an interest or desire to really learn about plumbing. I could seat a new toilet with the best of them. Sewage Lift Systems are way above my pay grade. When talking, Mr. Plumber gives me the following advice. Wash no dishes. Launder no sheets or towels. In fact, save the Tide Pods for another day. Do not bathe or shower. In fact, run zero water through the house. He assured me they would get right on this. He has now disappeared into thin air. I’m following his advice, but, can only do so a little while longer.
As for the spa, a cleaning was necessary. Soon, the bubbles of happiness were again crystal clear. A call to the spa company gave me answers I didn’t want to hear. It may be another week or two until the cover arrives. But, it will arrive. This will just be part of the crazy story of my first year as a widow.
That left me with one decision. One and only one. My mental state. I could cry. Get angry. Ask “Why Me?” Curse. Yell. Be frustrated. Want to pack a bag and bug out. Yes. I could do all of that, and did some of that. What I needed to do first was STOP. Just STOP. Put on my pajamas. Clear my brain. Have some tea while in the STOPPED mode. I listened to my breathing. And the wind. And Oliver’s snores. Things calmed. Although all the problems, aches and pains were still there, they felt different. Like a warning that life was going at too fast a pace. Sometimes it takes a strange whiff of something in the air to make us take stock.
I feel better today, although not 100%. I plan to lay low and continue to make phone calls to my new best friend, Mr. “Plumber and a Wrench”. I’ll sit in the hot tub and bob for leaves, while allowing the healing nature of the water to soothe my tired body. I need to remember that my widowhood is approaching dark woods. Things are more difficult than I anticipated on these last days before the one year anniversary of VST’s passing.
I need to practice lazy, as my extremely wise and sage God Mom would say. Everyone needs to make sure to use that skill sometimes. Today, it’s me. Today, find some time to stop and take inventory. There is a solution to every one of life’s problems. Some just take a “Plumber and a Wrench” and a little patience.