Here's an admission: my mind works in lyrical form. Everything around me is a trigger to a song lyric from the past and if I am feeling good and content, I will hum the tune that accompanies the moment. My friends noticed this last week when we were working on the puzzle together. Blue sky piece? "Not a cloud in the sky, got the sun in my eye..." Is that part of the grass? "Green grass, 'round my window, young leaves..." You get the idea. When I work in the garden, my mind stays clear of worry and clutter because it is too busy tracking songs in my head that fit the scene before me.
Sometimes, the lyrics get a little twisted and bent out of shape. Like this morning, when the rain came down (and I know it will be with us all day long), my mind launched into "rainy day Sundays always get me down..." even though the song is really about rainy days and Mondays. (Carpenters, 1971).
No, I'm not down. Not at all. But I think about those who are and how they got themselves into that tailspin (so often not of their own making, but sometimes maybe just a little of their own making). Foul moods are frequently out of your control. The National Institute of Mental Health states that more than 8% of all American adults have had at least one depressive episode in their lives. I bet that number is even higher. My hunch is that many people feel and act depressed and they don't even recognize it for what it is.
I don't know anything at all about these things. No training on these issues, no inside scoop. But I do know about the effect it can have on a person to be around someone who just cannot get their emotional state to rise above the depths of despair and displeasure. So that you're always on the receiving end of their felt or imagined crises. It feels like you can never escape it: that person's negativity is always threatening to flood you and drag you down with them. What to do? Shore up your defenses. And do all you can to build your own happy world.
So, on this rainy but not gloomy day, I throw out yet another piece of advice: I've long known that it's on you to learn how to be happy, (Ed will remind me of this periodically, but I know it without his prompts.) Possibly the greatest skill you can develop in life is to accept full responsibility for your own emotional well being. Yes, it may be their fault that you're anxious or dispirited, but don't wait for the fix to come from them. It's on you to then learn how best to live with joy, despite everything. Don't get sucked into making excuses and pointing a finger at the one who pushed you to the brink. Find a way to rise above it. Don't just engage in the blame game. Which, by the way, rhymes with the "Name Game!" You know, Nina Nina bo bina, banana fana for fina, fee fye mo mina..."
So, rain, eh?
A brisk walk to the barn. The cats aren't happy, the hens aren't happy. But it's a gentle rain (for now), so I can pause for a picture or two without getting very wet!
I drive then to Batch Bakehouse. I like their cakes for celebratory occasions and I ordered one for this day because it is (actually was, but plans are for me to celebrate it today) Sandpiper's birthday. Chocolate with strawberry frosting. I used to whip these up by myself, but honestly, I just haven't the time these days to bake much of anything!
(While there, I could not resist some more breakfast treats.)
Breakfast is in the kitchen. Cozy trumps wet and cold. Two cats join us.
And eventually I again check in on my still anguished mother. Some of the care providers think she may be calming down, but I dont see it. She always saves the best for me. The one who "doesn't understand," who let her down, who is allowing her "to die in misery," who attacks her, abandons her, who talks too quietly ("I cant hear you!") and then too loudly ("stop shouting"). Who for a short while was "a miracle child," but is no longer much of a miracle child at all. Briefly "beloved," now merely the "cruel" one.
Still, the hope remains that she will return back to her old ways, such as they were. Once again I wish I could scour her old room to see if I neglected to bring some items she may deem necessary to her survival. Sometimes something as trivial as a box of toothpicks can be seen as life-changing. I know some of such items, but not all. Again, I get no help from her and so I return home, knowing that I have one more chance (tomorrow) to bring over something we may have inadvertently left behind in her old room.
At home, I cannot take out the tractor and hack away at burdock because it's been pouring rain. I consider a stiff drink. Well that's not a healthy response! Instead, I turn my attention to fixing dinner for the young family.
(here they come!)
It's a birthday dinner!
(Sandpiper, at the head of the table)
Sandpiper is now officially three.
Sandpiper: you hear so little about him here, on Ocean! Luck of the birth order. The geography. The age of the grandparent. He was born when I was a fresh 68. He is thus three to my 71. I move, think, behave differently now than I did, say, when Snowdrop was three. I'm reminded here of my conversation with the girl two days ago when she asked me during one of our numerous car rides together -- gaga, would you rather take a car trip across the country or go on a trip to a European city? I said, without hesitation -- a trip to a European city. (The kids looooove playing "would you rather" games!) I felt I had to explain: Snowdrop, I have taken hundreds of road trips. Mostly as the designated driver. Across America, to the coasts and back, with little kids, alone, with big kids, with u-hauls, many many times. After a while, when you're driving, the highways all look the same. At a European city, I could go to a cafe and sit and do some serious people watching! Add a museum, a park -- it all sounds great! Snowdrop responded -- you are such a perfectly correct grandmother! You fulfill the image of a sweet old lady so well!
I took it as a very beautiful compliment.
But Sandpiper is just barely three and he is lively and as demanding as any three year old. He flies through games, finds joy in many toys, often all at the same time, and he is adventurous in just the ways grandparents find terrifying: he will scale furniture, climb rocks, swing high with feet flying. It is small surprise that I see him mostly when there is another grownup to help with the supervision, especially when the two sibs are also in the picture.
(grandparents are for getting their grandkids very large stuffies!)
Still, today is his day in my book! With all that liveliness comes a heart so full of love, a face so radiant and bursting with smiles, that your heart melts at the mere sight of him.
Happy happy year ahead, little guy!
And the rains come to an end and the day does as well, with Ed, on the couch, loving every minute of our sweet, quiet time together.
