Like the Weather

It's 4:42 am.

The rain is pouring outside.

I woke up in bed alone, M gone. I hunted him down in my son's room. M's large toes visible on the top bunk. So I went back to bed and made a nice nest for myself out of my large curved maternity pillow and the three Tempurpedic pillows on the bed.

It lasted all of a few minutes. Then I was up trying strategy #2: meds. I took a pain pill and a relaxant. I need to have something to combat the searing pain in my joints. Yes, it's my joints at the moment, not my muscles.

Kind of wishing I had one of those Brookstone contraptions I let Vet talk me into trying there earlier this evening. Divine stuff. I could use the entire contraption, the chair, the boots. Knead me. Love me. Knead me some more. Who needs a man when you're kneaded like this?

I suppose we will family trek to the gym later in the AM. Then I can float in the arthritic pool and stretch. Perhaps some time in the hot tub, perhaps some time in the sauna. Yeah. Cool.

This is my second nightly foray. The first included a few girl scout cookies (2) and a glass of water. It also included waddling back to bed and falling asleep again. I didn't hear my son get up and request his Dad join him in the top bunk or a little cuddle time. I suppose this means I was actually sleeping. YAY!

Wish we had the forethought to put down fertilizer in the yard. Make all this moisture work for us. Still, the yards needed it. It's been a long dry winter. Part of me is anxious to get out into the yard this season. Part of me is anxious to pay someone else to get out into my yard this season. Regardless, it sure would be nice to have a beautiful yard this year. My mom would have loved that.

My mom was a gardner, a landscaper. She would plan and execute, getting her hands deep in the earth loving and working it in order to create magic. It was a time for mediation for her. A time to commune with God. A time to be in control of the beauty of the world. It was her creation, her work, her fruits. It was extremely satisfying. An accomplishment.

It's blowing a little harder now. The sound of the rain has changed. The rain is coming down harder, more impactful. My mom loved thunderstorms like this. I remember being oh, 8-10 and laying on my sister's bed with the windows open. My sister, my mother and I just watching the rain and the lightning. Letting ourselves be lulled by the sound and awed by the acts of nature. It was exciting, watching the world change and being together. It was a time for feeling safe. The storm outside was never as powerful as the love inside. It was one of the most comfortable feelings in the world.

And the rain eases back. It's down to a soft drizzle and drop. Rain is so fickle. Demanding one moment, gentle and passive the next.

Just like that the rain picks up again. Shift. Change. Surge. Flow. It's just nature, including our own.

The meds have kicked, or at the very least, being upright has made a difference. so on this note, I shall try to slumber once more. Perhaps the rain can play me a lullaby. Perhaps I will sleep until noon. Perhaps upon waking the world will be righted once more.

Perhaps.
Perhaps.
Perhaps.....