I just called out to Dave to come over to me, I had to show him something. He eagerly came running ... under the mistaken impression "I want to show you something" was code for "sexy love time." So he's standing there all happy and expectant, and I turn to show him my computer screen. I told him I wanted to show him a poem.
He walked over, grumbling something about "Dumb poem ..." but he let me read it to him.
He has been so busy, and stressed, and not himself. For ages, now. He's stuck, in the middle of trying to make some major life changes because of everything the cancer taught him. His values ... both of our values, have changed. It's good, but the transition is a killer.
We just lived 17 weekends in one .... a comedy of errors and bullshit and tangles. Drove down to do a recovery convention in Sydney, have a big blow-up in the car, I storm off and slam the door in the MIDDLE of Sydney traffic. Because I'm psycho and dysfunctional like that. Five phonecalls and one public crying session later, I make it to the convention. Walk in ... every meeting has a different topic. The meeting I walked into? Relationships in Recovery. HA. Thank GOD I did not get asked to share, is all I can say.
I'm halfway through emailing/blog commenting on everybody who wrote such lovely comments to my last post. It sucked to write it out, but it's done now and helped me work through some stuff. Thanks. A LOT. It's taking me some time .... I need to apologise to Almamay properly, tell Free Man how his comments are like a breath of fresh air .... I need to read where other people are at in their lives, take it in, and comment properly. It's satisfying, but hard. I'm woefully behind on everything. I suck. And then I don't post because I haven't responded and then I get emailed and then I post but I always feel bad. Does anyone have a commenting strategy? Help!
This afternoon, I took Rocco's nappy off. It wasn't even halfway down his legs when he promptly did a big fat wee all over me. I'm mopping it up, he's in his room ... I go in there, SHIT EVERYWHERE. All over the carpet, in clumps. I pick him up, put him outside his room, I then kneel IN SHIT ... he starts doing the biggest wee all over the floorboards. So there's piss and shit all over the house, a cranky baby, an even crankier mother. My brother is standing there in shock .... "DON'T HAVE KIDS!" I hissed, on my way to the bath.
But I didn't mean it.
So. Dave's poem. I told him Universe chose it just for him, and was using me as a conduit. He looked at me strangely, wishing he'd just gotten a blowjob instead.
Drink Your Tea
Drink your tea slowly and reverently,
as if it is the axis
on which the world earth revolves
- slowly, evenly, without
rushing toward the future;
Live the actual moment.
Only this moment is life.
- Thich Nhat Hahn