It's been a week. A long week of laying around in a flu induced stupor. I haven't felt like writing or doing much else. I've watched more TV than I care to admit to. I read a whole book. And I even missed preaching this morning, which was no easy thing to convince myself to do. (Fortunately, my church rocks--and they take my health seriously. They convinced me to stay home and get well.)
And somewhere in the blur of days, on the same day as the anniversary of burying a dear friend, a congregation member died and DH's grandfather died. And somewhere in that blur was the 11th anniversary (how has it been that long?) of my best friend's death. Today I learned that a seminary colleage (who is my age) lost her mom to a battle with cancer. It feels like death is curling her fingers around so much.
I'm itching to do life things. My fever broke sometime this afternoon, and I finally feel like a person again. (I'm hoping it is really gone this time. It did this once before and then came back with a vengeance.) I'm sure I shouldn't have done it, but it felt so good to want to move around again, that I did some light house cleaning. It started out as I was trying to find clothes to take on our trip to the funeral. A good chunk of the space was taken up by clothes that are waaaay too big... not even from the last few months, but from a time when I lost 40lbs. I get why people keep skinny clothes-- but who the heck keeps fat clothes around? I could get all pyschological and say that maybe subconsciously I kept them around in case I gained the weight back-- but seriously, I just don't think they were on my radar. Today, though, I needed them gone. I bagged them right up without even a second thought. I needed to get on about the business of being who I am becoming, not looking back to who I once was.
I found a few clothes that would work for the funeral--and happily discovered that all of my suits are on the big side now. But after some ten days of being nowhere near the gym, I admit that my brain was struggling. I haven't been terribly hungry since being sick, but when I was hungry, I wanted terrible things-- I tried to bribe DH to bring me oreos, but fortunately he wouldn't. I wanted ice cream, but we compromised at Frozen Greek Yogurt--which at least had a good deal of protein. And before today, I was really worried about what this trip would be like for us. Let's be honest, a lot of days on the road could easily lead to poor choices. And nevermind that funerals don't typically feature healthy fare.
But, after realizing that I have a huge need to be about the living right now, I don't worry about it. I'm in a place where I need to say goodbye--to some loved ones, to some grief, to an image of who I am that no longer works. Definitely to this flu. To the thought that I am controlled by things.
So we'll take this trip-- and while I wish the timing were different, I think I'm a little glad for the chance to drive and see some new scenery for a bit. To spend some time thinking. To listen to bad music. To be with loved ones. To put some fresh air in my lungs. To embrace life--one piece of the journey at a time.