Waking up in the middle of the night gives me plenty of thinking time. I had a week with one of the nasty winter viruses around this year - this one had a headache that lasted four days with fever and a really bad throat plus a cough. Everything but the cough sees to have gone but coughing keeps me waking up and waking up keeps me thinking. And it is too cold to get up and wander around the house as I can in summer so I stay in bed under the covers and hope I will get back to sleep.
I have got back to the stage of wondering why I am here, what the purpose of this part of my life is. I am now a Granma with none of my grandchildren close to me, none of my children live close to me, old friends are gone already or are sick and dying, or so it seems. So I need to start all over again rebuilding my life. I read on here and none of this sounds unusual, just part of the regular pattern of death and regrowth that surrounds us. Our own grief probably blinded us to that for a time but now we live back in the real world we see all the pain and suffering once again.
I think this is a part of the usual winter blues, wet, cold and windy weather does not attract me out and about and in my own company as I keep saying - I think too much. Handwork abounds but that does not stop me thinking, housework? yes plenty of that and that does not stop me thinking. I feel as if I need to run, out in the sun, along the beach, somewhere where there is blue sky and warmth and other people, it is like a recurring ache, that is what I want to do but the budget got a bit shrunk by the trip to England last year so a trip to the Islands is not on the shopping list.
So what shall I do? no idea, none at all. My capacity to plan seems to be one of the casualties of the grieving process. When Ray was alive and I was a full-time caregiver I so longed to have the freedom to just get up and go and was full of ideas of trips here, there and everywhere and now I have got the time, and maybe could do some of this but have no motivation. Honestly in the past I would like to be somewhere different two or three times a year but where do I want to go now? and will anywhere really be fun on my own?
Life is hard alone isn't it? There is some happy days though, a lunch out with a friend, an unexpected phone call, a chat with a neighbour, a special morning tea chat at church, all of those things lift my mood. I wish they were the norm and not the exception in my life. I have thought of volunteering somewhere where there are plenty of people to talk to and maybe some laughter and maybe that is what I will do in Spring. I know we have Senior Citizens Centres locally and they might provide some courses or classes in something new I would like to learn. I do need to learn new things, particularly practical things. And something like Hydroponic gardening, something new to talk to others about.
Running out of things to tell my family during our weekly phone calls. "How was your week Mum?" just the usual boring stuff, just gray days, long cold nights. "What have you got planned Mum?" My daughter asks me that. Maybe when the days get longer, lighter and warmer I can plan another trip down there. Maybe I can do all kinds of things. I should devote my thinking time to determining what they might be.