Day Nine

It was a hard liquor kind of day. There were no bubbles, no fruit, no ‘hint of blackberry with a plum finish.’ This day will not end with Chablis or Merlot. There will be an ice-cube and two fingers poured. I might sip the second one. 

This morning, thanks to the deluge that hovered over Pittsburgh for damn near three hours with thunder roaring as if the earth were breaking apart, the basement flooded. The boys had both already left for work so I was attempting to sop up water with one arm, moving furniture, and pulling out the dehumidifier. Brilliant way to begin the day.

The rest of this day included cracking the top of my head into the corner of a cabinet hard enough to make me almost pass out (and later Brennan parted my hair and said, “aw hell mom”), getting locked out of my own house, one of our vehicles overheating and not even making it home, the strap of my sundress snapping right when I bent over and I gave a full on breast shot to a really nice fellow, and I forgot to eat dinner. 

On the plus side, I spent the majority of the day with that really nice fellow who has found himself confined to a wheelchair and unable to feed himself much sooner than expected. His heart is gold and his mind still sharp and it makes my soul ache at the unfairness of life. His disease renders my arm issues unnotable; there isn’t a comparison in the universe. I am damn lucky and a wench to complain for a single moment.

Thank you, Life, for the lessons we don’t ask for - but desperately need.