I recently returned home from a week-long road trip.
Along the way, I saw friends I hadn’t seen in years.
I spent time outdoors.
I walked around beautiful architecture and saw leaves changing colors.
My lungs were full. My heart was grateful. The world was my oyster.
On the drive home, I realized my house would be empty when I arrived. My husband was working in the office that day. Our cat died not quite three months ago.
Nothing soft or loving was waiting to greet me upon my return.
Within four days of returning home, I was hit with a pulsing headache. I laid down on the couch to see if a nap might help.
I snuggled under a super-soft blanket my mother-in-law gifted me and was hit with deep sadness.
My lungs felt shallow. My heart felt heavy. The world was dark and hopeless.
I was home alone. No kitties to snuggle with. No husband to connect with.
Several close friends are carrying heavy burdens. Cancer, chemo, and radiation. Divorce. Losing loved ones back-to-back. Losing faculties, independence, and a sense of control.
I feel the weight deep in my heart. In my bones.
It’s hard to believe the fullness and the fallenness I can feel within such a short timeframe.
So dragged under.