I Wish I Had a River

I called my sister on Thursday for the latest news about Clara, who was in the hospital last week, undergoing treatment for infantile spasm. The news was good, that the steroid treatment seems to be working, though we've seen this twice before...she'll start on a new medication, her seizures will disappear for a week, only to return in a week with greater intensity. Each medication is purported to be effective for 50% of those it's given to - so this being the third, and last, available treatment option, perhaps the Law of Averages will work in her favor. My sister is hopeful; I am not sure I have room for more disappointment.

What's been astonishing to me is how acutely I feel each piece of news about my niece, though perhaps it's my sister's pain that most deeply affects me. She and I have always had a special bond, but I am only just beginning to understand what motivated her to be so powerfully supportive during and after my divorce.

I seem to be feeling everything much more intensely lately. A cheesy Lifetime movie ended with me streaming tears this afternoon; what's more, I'd seen it before. Music can make me misty-eyed, if you'll excuse the alliteration. It doesn't even have to have lyrics: W.G. Snuffy Walden's rendition of "The First Noel" snuck up on me a little while ago, and Mozart's Overture from La Nozze di Figaro before that.

It must be because it's coming on Christmas, and they are indeed cutting down trees. They're putting up reindeer.

The other night, I took Heidi Christmas shopping. I had thought to let her go do her thing for a while while I knocked out my gift-hunting for her, but a phone call from an old friend kept me from getting much done. The call kept me on the outside of the Christmas rush for the evening, and I'm grateful for that opportunity. I honestly think everyone should set aside one evening during the busy season to simply sit and watch.

I guess that's how I've been feeling this Holiday season: on the outside, looking in.

I am hungry for something, and I know what it is, but like a kid looking up at a cookie jar on a high shelf, it's out of my reach.

When I get like this, I have a tendency to walk around in circles and cast off the things I have that I enjoy for want of the thing I don't have that I crave. Scott Peck would have said that I lack the ability to defer gratification.

It's not that I lack that ability, it's that I often choose the easier path, the one in which I don't have to exercise it.

I wish I had a river that I could skate away on.