The Blahs

Today I have had an old fashioned case of the blahs. I hate it when I feel like this. With all the stuff that is going on with friends and in the world, I feel like I have NO excuse for feeling blue.

A lot of times, the blahs come from things that are pretty small in the grand scheme of things. Stuff like the husband being grumpy from weeks of a grueling schedule at work. Frustration that my body won't hold up to do all the things I want to do. Feeling like my "real life" friends are always tugging at me, but never seem to be there when *I* need to whine!

And, I feel guilty. Even though I know the blahs are a normal part of life, I don't feel like *I* am entitled to feel that way. I have a cozy house, nice vehicle, loving family, financial stability, and loads of friends. Most people would be envious of the blessings I enjoy.

I know that these blahs won't last long. They will probably be gone with a good night's sleep.

And I will be my happy self again.

Monday's Child

This morning, the leader of an online Weight Watcher thread that I am on posted a JFF question.

What day of the week were you born?

I dutifully went to the posted page and found that I am a "Monday's Child" who is supposed to be "fair of face."

Now anyone who knows me can tell you that I am no beauty queen. But, I am not totally unhappy with my looks. I have my dad's eyes and my mom's mouth. When I look in the mirror, I can tell where I come from.

When I was growing up, I was called "ugly" by my less charitable classmates. I had braces and wire rimmed glasses. I was skinny and I was awkward. I was not going to be entering the Miss Mississippi pageant.

But, a funny thing happened after I grew up. Despite struggling with my weight most of my adult life, I FEEL attractive. My mother was a large woman, but she was beautiful and made the most of her looks by dressing well, keeping her hair and makeup current and stylish, and by carrying herself with a confident air.

So, even though I am a large woman now, I learned to make the most of what I have from the master.

My mama.

Gone to Heaven

I got the news this morning. Friend Don passed away last night. I am relieved that his suffering has finally ended.

When Don's daughter got married, we took a picture of him sitting in the back of his antique green truck, in overalls, with a cardboard sign saying "Daughter just got married. Will work for food."

I can picture him now, in his overalls, sitting in his old green truck. But this time his sign says "Gone to Heaven. See y'all there."

The Wait

My friend's cancer is in it's final stages. He is having seizures and he requires heavy doses of medication to manage what has become unbearable pain. He is largely unresponsive.

So now we wait. Every time the phone rings, the hearts of his friends and family skip a beat. Sleep is fitful. Plans are tentative. We pray for a "good" death and a peaceful end to his suffering.

God, be merciful.

Holy Week

This week is one of my favorite weeks of the entire year. The week that we Christians relive the last week of the life of Jesus. The week that we go from triumphant entry into Jerusalem, to the Last Supper, the Crucifixion, and finally the Glorious Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

And this week, I will sing the "Via Dolorosa" at a local Episcopal church for the 17th year in a row on Good Friday. It is the most moving service of the entire year for me. The altar is stripped of adornment, save a rough wooden cross. Everyone enters and leaves in silence.

This week always reminds me that there is light at the end of every tunnel. I just have to walk through the darkness in faith.