This morning

Woke up at 4:45 a.m. out of a dead sleep to my name being shouted. I thought someone was in my home–that a relative had keyed in and was calling me from downstairs. I lay still and listened. No one called my name again. Thinking that something might be wrong I began praying. My cousin Sue came to mind and I prayed protection and comfort over her and her family. I thought I would get a release and be able to slide back into sleep, but I didn’t. For the next 40 minutes I stared at the black wall beside my bed and rummaged through random thoughts.

I thought about cases at work, thought about a couple of cases that had not been updated with the information I found in the case from previous workers and what I would say to my boss when I sat down with him on Monday to go over them. I worried about cases I haven’t gotten to yet–the lady who called yesterday to ask when her food stamps would be on and I told her I was still missing one bank statement. She replied that she did not have any food in the home and was getting hungry. I told her about some local food banks and that the missing bank statement was holding up her case.

Realizing that sleep was finished for the night, I got up. Acid reflux kicked in, my chest hurt from it. “How many days had it been since I’d last taken Prilosec?” Too many. I went downstairs and refilled the three pill containers on the dinning room table. They are the only things–besides a Fall placemat with pictures of tiny pumpkins and a coaster absorbent stone–that I allow on the table. Once my housekeeper cleaned that room, which had been a catch-all for everything, I decided I would not place anything else on the table. So when I come home from work, I either put the item away or find another spot to stash it. My housekeeper cleaned the kitchen too, it and the livingroom have become the stash rooms.

Once the pills were refilled, I let the cats out onto the open back porch and sat down in the chair chained to the railing (so my neighbors don’t steal it). I watched the greyness of the night give way to the morning.

It was such a soft morning and none of the neighbors seemed to be up, so I decided to do something that I’ve never done before and walk to the corner gas station, which was about 500 yards away. I’ve walked to the local party store, about 25 yards away, but never to the gas station. As I walked, I kept my eyes down watching for cracks in the pavement so  as not to step on them and break my mother’s back. I’m kidding. 🙂 (Lord knows my back hurts enough carrying all this weight around.) I kept my eyes down to make sure I didn’t step in a hole or on an edge in the uneven sidewalk. Once I passed the party store I smiled. I had made it passed the party store without incident. Maybe I really would make it to the gas station.

My heart felt as if it was flushing out fat ensconced in long forgotten pockets within its chambers. I breathed deeper, heavier. The air was moist, it felt wonderful to walk and breathe and enjoy the peace and quiet of the morning without feeling there were any eyes on me. A couple of cars pulled up and waited for a green light at the intersection on the other side of the gas station. My steps quickened. The world was waking. I didn’t want them to see me.

I walked home celebrating my accomplishment with a smile and thoughts of “I should do this every morning” and “when will I do this again?”

It was a lovely way to start my day.

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One thought on “This morning

  1. Thank you for having the courage to share from your journey. We all benefit when we work to live and communicate from our authentic truth. To me this makes us ALL powerful and beautiful people indeed… in the deeds, asl well :). Wonderful steps forward to the future of where you will be! We start now, and doing so, one step at a time and then we are there right now… the body then just catches up. -x.M

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