Healing Atlas

Atlas

My arms are outstretched in supplication and my legs bent at strange angles. My back is bowed from the strain of trying to hold up things that seem intent on crumbling down. I yearn to shrug it all off. Strange then, when the burden is lifted, even momentarily.

Unspoken needs mysteriously met by those who could not possibly know the concerns that I hold in my heart. The three stray kittens and their mama cat who adopted us a few months back were given a bag of kitten food...just as their food bin contained little more than crumbs. A "new-to-me" shirt was wordlessly offered...just as my own clothes grew too frayed to be considered "work clothes" any longer. A stack of extra coupons was handed over to me the day before I planned to go to the store to see just how far I could make the food budget stretch.

Little things, to be sure...but things that strengthen my resolve, that make me carry on. Because I am a strong believer in carrying on.

Juno a/k/a "June Bug"

I sat on the porch last night and watched the kittens stalk one another amidst the blowing leaves, pouncing on one another and learning the life skills necessary for a cat. Whenever things got too loud and scary, they ran under the shrubs or up onto the porch...they went to the places they call home. Suddenly, I felt so lonely. Loneliness looms around me like a sickness.

I remember as a child being sick at times and being promptly tucked into bed, the television on low, a cold drink nearby, and a pile of books...oh, the pile of books!. Sometimes, I might be treated to a mug of hot lemonade with honey to help soothe a sore throat, or a heating pad to ward of the chills. Every few hours the door would open, and a cool hand would gently feel my forehead for fever. It was enough to make me want to prolong the malady a bit longer...if only for the respite...the ability to make things stop for a few days...to have time to heal.

I need some time to heal now. But there is no one to bring me hot lemonade or to smooth my hair away from my face. Or rather, no on thinks to do it. Perhaps this is an "adult" thing...it is presumed that once you are an adult you no longer need to be tended to or cared for in the same way you were as a child. Rubbish.

I need it. Too often I tuck my needs away. Too often I push them down and carry bravely on. But today I will confess, I do not feel brave. I do not want to carry on bravely. Instead, I want to curl up in my reading chair, with a warm blanket and a good book. I want to drink hot lemonade with honey, and I want to lose myself for a while.

And if someone thought to smooth my hair or place a cool hand against my face...well, that might help with the healing.