My fuzzy, unfocused, blurred mind convinced me it was not important to announce my temporary silence. "It's just for a few days. I'll manage some posts here and there," I lied to myself. As time went on, I rationalized about not really having anything to say, so why write. As exhaustion set in, I told myself no one cares anyway.
As I write this now, a glimpse into my inner self is revealed - how unrealistic I can be on so many levels. I thought what life was calling me to do could be done easily by any superherowifemomgrandmomdauthterdoglover. What could be so hard in caring for a husband recovering from knee replacement surgery, a daughter from hand surgery, a very active one year old, two old ladies with dementia, and two dogs? Not too long ago I wrote about this same crisis scenario prior to the surgeries. I don't know what to call it this time, except an intensely difficult challenge. The physical requirements were enough, but add to that the inevitable family dysfunction and you either have good material for a funny sitcom, or a dramatic soap opera depending on your own world view.
I have a tiny family with no siblings. Extended family is either too old or living too far away to render support. So, I had to step up to the plate and just do the best I could. I survived and I'm resting now. Daughter and grandson are gone, and I'm only caring for the ladies. Husband is recovering well. I'll have at least one more round of this in a few months. My daughter still needs surgery on her other hand but I think it will be easier. (Unrealistic?)
What was most unrealistic is my thinking that you wouldn't care that much about my absence. I was so delighted to hear from some of you who were concerned. Thank you so much. It truly warmed my heart.
What I know was real is the fact that I was rude. I am so sorry that I did not let you know I would be gone for a while. I won't let that happen again. I know there may be some short periods of silence in the near future because I'm dealing with the ladies' placement in a nursing home. This is emotionally draining. I dispel the myth about writers doing their best work when they're depressed. Not true for me. I write best when I'm happy.
But even if not my best, I'll be writing sporadically. Please know that not one day went by that I did not think about my blogging friends. I don't think you can know how much I appreciate you. Thank you.