Dropping Everything

I’m home from the hospital. It was a good day there today. My husband seems to be feeling better and will likely be coming home in the next day or two. I feel like we’re going to get through this.

I didn’t start out feeling that way today.

This morning, I loaded myself up with a bag of garbage, a bag of recycling, my coffee cup, a plate of Babka to bring to the playgroup I lead, my computer bag and my purse. As I tried to give the dog a treat before closing and locking the door, I remembered that I had left the back door standing open.

I put all my stuff down, went in and closed it, and came back to pick it all back up again, and that’s when I realized it: I’m going to drop everything. It’s almost certain. I readjusted my load, put the recycling down for later, and left for playgroup.

When I got in the car and saw that I was already late, I had the sense that I might drop not just the things I was trying to carry down the stairs, but everything–all the responsibilities at home, at work, at church, at school, at the hospital.

I thought I was taking all the hospital stays and uncertainty and disruption in stride, but today I was seeing my life from the outside. Watching all the moving parts, I was like a kid jumping into a game of double dutch, trying to time it right, trying not to stop the jump rope.

It felt like walking on slippery ice, taking every step  deliberately, trying to keep my balance.

As I drove down our street, I passed the Cal student who lives with us as he was coming home, and stopped when he rolled down his window to ask me a question. He wanted to take Tie with him to a meeting and to hang out with some friends. I said that was fine, except that Tie really needed a bath since he had evaded it the other day.

‘I’ll do it,” he said. I told him where I take Tie and gave him the wash token that was still in my wallet from the other day. That’s one thing I could let go of.

I skidded in late to playgroup to find the coordinator setting up and greeting the participants for me. When I told her that my husband was back in the hospital, she offered to take over for me, even at the last minute if needed. There’s another thing I could let go of.

It was enough to help me find a little solid footing.

It’s not that I don’t have people helping me. The support we’ve received has been amazing.

I was unconsciously holding on to everything, and trying to hold everything together.  Letting go was not about checking items off my to-do list. I just couldn’t hold on anymore. It was like releasing muscles that I’d been tensing without realizing, or taking a deep breath after forgetting to breathe for a while.