No, not the flat prairies that kids dread driving through on hot sticky summers in Canada.
No, not the flat stomach that you wake up to and rejoice.
No, not the flat tire that occurred in the freezing cold just before another winter storm would hit.
Just that flat feeling that shows up, without explanation, and leaves you winded as you walk up the stairs.
Determined to go from flat to fit, I venture outside to run with my husband.
There. is. one. problem. to. this. solution.
I HATE running.
So quickly I retreat, retrace, reneg and return to C is for Cranky.
Grumpily, I tell my husband to go ahead. I remind him I hate running.
He doesn’t need reminding.
I walk. I talk to myself. I tell myself to think positively. I try to refocus, reflect on all that is good in my life.
And then I am home. Still flat, I look at a car pulling up across the street. It parks in that driveway. The driveway that has been haunting me for the last few months.
The mom gets out. She walks up to her daughter’s house which has now been sold. She examines the garden and walks around inspecting. She does this a lot.
I wonder what she is looking for. It makes me so sad.
I walk into my own house right across the street. I look out my window.The woman is still outside, puttering around.
I see my daughter, writing on the couch, and I go from flat to fortunate. In a glance. Guiltily.
(Sadly, the woman’s daughter took her life a few months ago. It has been very hard to watch the parents come and go as they have prepared the house for sale. It makes my heart ache for what they must be going through. We didn’t know them as we were new. But we still feel the pain as parents. Selfishly, I am relieved to be moving shortly, at least for a while, as the house is such a tragic reminder of a girl lost and a family in sorrow. Maybe when we return, a new family will bring new light to it. I really don’t know. But for me, I relish a new window; one with less pain.)
Thanks for listening. Cheryl ( A to Z )