I supposedly have no time to do this, but I had to make time. I need to say it.
Last night was (another) difficult night, with pain not in the excruciating category, but enough to keep me awake. I got up this morning, late, with a heavy sense of sadness and loss. I felt that I had dreamed it, but, as usual, didn’t remember the dream. What was this about? Ostensibly, it could have been due to the fact that I (finally) started reading Alyssa’s incredible piece on Lucas North last night. (Alyssa, a more thorough comment is forthcoming.) She led me into revisiting the Lucas to John Bateman revelation. When I watched Season 9, I went into a real downer mode and haven’t watched any of that season since.
(Major detour: I had something of a personal epiphany during/after reading “I Believe in Lucas North,” relating to this blog, being a part of Armitageworld, and the role Mr. A himself plays in it. Another post will have to get into all that – tentative working title: “I’m Going on an Adventure” or What Has This Man Done to Us?)
Another, scarier, explanation of my melancholy would be an intuitive feeling of some impending event, which I have had occasionally in the past. The other possibility is some deep place where my mind has led me in which I subconsciously feel a strong sense of disappointment with something/someone. Who? Someone in my family? The whole RA experience? Myself?
An aching body, weary mind, and many, many things to do before leaving for our daughter’s graduation….. But I decide to look quickly at l’Esprit while eating. And there, written I’m sure as light-hearted responses to a reblog of coastal cottage decorating, were several cheery messages from Armitagers. (I will, hopefully, respond to each of your comments before the day is out.) Nothing deep and probing, not written with an eye toward consolation, just short expressions of acknowledgement, appreciation of the content. Several other quick, friendly responses were there as well.
Then there was a post, this from another cancer patient whose blog I follow. Please see my reblog of “A Poem Again?” How had she known? This was me. Right now, just the pain part applies, but what a wonderful turn at the end. How could she have known?
I vacillate between acceptance of hard, coincidence-ridden reality and the notion that there is no such thing as coincidence. But this today…… How could it be that such simple actions by those in my circle of acquaintance can, unintentionally, but most certainly to powerful effect, become random acts of kindness?
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
And now, I should put in a sweet, smiling pic of RA, but I’m way too tired. So just imagine it. I’m sure you can. I’m picturing Harry. 🙂