My brain is tired. I am tired. Yet, I still cannot find the time to rest or, perhaps, the need to be active is more pressing than the need to relax. Folks, that is a sad way to be. It wears on the body, mind and soul. Life on the Bayou used to be laid-back and slow-paced. Now it seems as if the world is encroaching, not only development-wise but also mentally. Even though I have, more or less, been isolated here since March, stress has a way of pushing itself in where it is not needed. Health problems (both mine and family members), hurricanes and isolation...all have been playing a huge role in my attitude! It needed adjusting right quick!
This afternoon after gathering firewood in the drizzly rain, I called it quits about 2pm. There was plenty of indoor chores that needed doing but, by that time, the mood had dissolved into a heap of mush. "This is not like me." I thought to myself. Something has to give. Well, evidently Son knew that his mom was about fried! I heard some pretty strange noises happening in the living room and went to investigate. The handmade wooden Christmas Tree was leaning against the french doors. Hmm, that is a weird place to put decorations! Then I realized what he was doing. Son had pulled the wooden Christmas Tree from upstairs and was making a few minor repairs. The tree was showing a bit or wear and tear so he was making sure it was ready to brighten another Christmas. Afterward, the tree was installed in its usual spot of the wall by the stairs. Watching him work brought back a flood of memories about this tree. He actually made the tree years ago from wood scraps. The entire tree was made from stuff I had pulled from the debris piles after Hurricane Katrina!
When his installation was complete, he put his arm around my shoulders and said "Merry Christmas, Mom. The tree is up and things are going to be better from this point onward." You know what? I believe him. It has to be. It just has to be.
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