A couple different people have asked me recently just what I've been up to. I always feel taken-a-back by this questions because I can't remember why I feel like I've been so busy. One outstanding factor in my days is the fact that there is literally ALWAYS someone home who wants my attention. I go into the bathroom and shut the door sometimes just so I can have a moment to myself. My family surely thinks I have vigorous bowels. What I really need is an office, with a lock on the door.
Don got out of jail last week and he is more or less staying with us. I think he's spent three nights here so far, maybe two. I am refusing to succumb to the temptation to worry. Either he will do well, or he will not...right? My responsibilities change very little regardless. Is it possible to love someone so much and yet remain emotionally distant? We'll see.
In other news, the rumor about town is that Michael's car was involved in a murder. Obviously, Michael is safely ensconced in Prison, a fact for which I am seldom thankful, but which seems a relief just now. The other day I was visiting at the prison when Michael told me that he had seen someone he knew on the local news. As he recounted the story, he mentioned that the car in the news story sure looked like his. I thought little of it until later when we heard that in fact his car had been impounded as evidence. Now, as I say, it's all rumor for the moment, but who knows? Again I am struck that we have dinner table conversations about drugs, prison, or murder. It's like the kids in certain circles think themselves play-actors in an episode of Sons Of Anarchy....only real people die. And once again I ask: how did this become my life....or the fringe of it, anyway?
It's easy for my to get distracted by the worry over what Don may or may not do. Or to reel from the horror of a young man dying with even the slightest connection to my family. The truth of the matter, though, is that the biggest problems I am dealing with directly are so much smaller. I have to worry about when I can build in quiet time for my own sanity, or figure out what to cook for dinner. The truth is that if I keep my thoughts on what is true, and what is in my immediate realm, then I find that there is so much less to cause me anxiety. Perhaps this is why God admonishes us to deliberately restrict our thoughts to what is strictly true and good and right and pure and excellent. None of the "What ifs" are mine to deal with, but the dinner dishes are.
Meanwhile, tomorrow is Halloween. Aaron has thriftily designed a minimalist costume for tomorrow's festivities. Faline has her own outfit put together as well, although I'll be surprised if either of them actually goes to trick-or-treat. How old is too old, anyway? Tim and I will hide in front of the TV with the lights out, and we'll hope the neighborhood children will leave us alone.
I'll keep you apprised. Posted. Abreast of the developments. Do stay tuned.
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