Walking through my neighborhood before my mom awoke, my brain momentarily flashed to sneaking out of the house as a teenager. Waiting for the moment around 1:00 a.m. when the rattle of a train masked my footsteps and the click of the closing door. The memory sparked a millisecond of adrenaline. The worries then of being caught, of whether I would actually make it to college, did my boyfriend really love me, would my back ever stop hurting, how soon could I possibly get out of my small town, and how would I explain all those mosquito bites? Now the worries circle around my mother. Will she spill hot coffee on herself if she wakes up before I get back? Did I remember to lock up the booze? What the hell, why is my neck hurting? Did I sleep crooked or are my vertebrae dissolving because I'm going to have arthritis just like my mother? Where are all the herons?
Yes! When my children were little, I used to get up before dawn to walk or run and every step I took I was nagged by the worries of what might happen if they woke up and my husband did not hear them.
ReplyDeleteBut I was never a sneaker-outer. My boyfriend snuck in. Still. Plenty of anxiety there, as well.
I hope you have a chance -- soon -- to let those worries just dissolve.
ReplyDeleteYou are doing a sacred thing, locking up the booze, taking care of your mother. It's love in action, and very beautiful, hard as it is.
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