Back to Good

October 05, 2004 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

Everyone hides shades of shame,
But looking inside we’re the same,
We’re the same and we’re all grown now,
But we don’t know how
To get it back to good
- Matchbox Twenty

Since we got back from our Boston trip last month, it's been a struggle. It's like depression is catching and I caught some. It’s been harder to laugh, and easier to cry.

A lot of invisible lines have been crossed, and instead of dealing with things I just kept lowering the bar. It's OK to gain those few pounds back; it's OK to let this report or that presentation slide. It's OK to watch people I love flounder, let them sort it out for themselves. The laundry is just as good from the basket as the shelf.

And then the other night, I was looking for that thing that you use to clean ceiling fans, and it wasn't in the first place I looked. I sat on the floor, angry and frustrated and CD said from the doorway, hands on his hips; "What?”

And I said, "I don't want to live like this, anymore."

And his mouth made an irritated moue, with a gust of exhaled air. And he made some defensive noises - like yes, he knows. It isn't all peaches and cream right now. So, why was I rubbing his nose in it?

But I wasn't. And he's bright, our CD, so he caught on quick. This is about me. This is about me and not him and not Bear. This is about something going on in me, maybe a mid-life crisis. And it isn't going to be solved easy.

I can't talk, about what's in my head. Not here. Not yet.

Progress comes in baby steps towards improvement. Making it a little better each day until some of these bigger knots get a little looser.

And tonight? Well, tonight was a miracle. It was a trip back to Normal, and it was like a tonic. A fresh warm breeze in the morning when you expected frost.

We caught the magic hour of afternoon might and headed over to Fantastic Sam's. You know the place? They have a Barbie's Pink Convertible for Bear to sit in and Dum-Dum Lollipops for after the haircut. And the people there, they come running for my Bear. They admire his manners and bring little plastic bags so we can capture the glorious copper silk they chop from his head.

Then we drove over to the shopping plaza, windows open. Talking about Rescue Heroes, and going out pumpkin shopping next weekend, and household stuff. Admiring the way fall was flirting with the bits of Illinois prairie visible here and there.

Pulled into CD's secular Mecca. Got stripper for the antique door we hauled 1000 miles ("Thwacka Thwacka Thwacka"). Bear investigated every snow blower on display. Every. One. In fact, gave a tour to one of the HD Employees - showing which ones had "pusher spouts" and which ones "were not very big".

And as the sun set over the strip mall, we headed home again home again lickety split.

The guys made nice with the king of domestic power tools - the canister vacuum. They Hoovered and I attacked the kitchen. It was the most non-kosher meal ever created (I know this, because I once served it to a Kosher Jew. One doesn't forget being caught THAT much without a clue) - Beef Stroganoff. Made with steak and mushrooms and red wine and cream, over Lite egg noodles. Like drinking a Diet Coke with a Big Mac, but the effort was there.

And Bear went to sleep, in non-Superman pajamas (because both pairs were in the wash). And CD took a hot bath, after satisfying himself that I was all right. That it had been an OK night.

But it had been more than that. It was a normal night. It had been a baby step, back to good.

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