
Beren walked in the door at 5:30 tonight to find me in my nightgown, pouring a glass of wine, laundry not done, bed not made, no dinner to speak of. Now, he couldn't care less about any of those things but he knows that it's uncharacteristic of me, and he's concerned. Perhaps with good reason. Oh, I'm ok, no need for alarm, just a bit down and in need of a night off. Mom's latest medical report, the call from the vet informing me of the return of Salem's ashes, ongoing financial difficulties, strained relationships with "stepchildren," slow times at work, etc., etc., all contributed to the gradual demise of my mood today. I'm trying to get excited about the holidays but can't help but wonder (goddess forgive me) if it'll be the last one where all of our family is intact. That puts the pressure on and brings a bittersweet feeling to the upcoming weeks and months. Should I do more, or less? Volunteer to decorate Mom's house in order to lift her spirits or simplify and focus on the people, not the hooopla. What to do? How to deal? I have no freakin' idea.
So, Beren heated up leftovers, hugged me and gently asked what's wrong..the waterworks started, more wine was poured, more cuddles given...it'll be ok, one way or another, I'll get through it. I just need a little time to rest, regroup, recover. Tomorrow I'll pick up Salem's ashes and figure out some way to pay the vet bill, call Mom and visit if she's up to it, go to work and earn whatever money I can, cook dinner, catch up on laundry, hold tight to my family and friends and live/laugh/love as best I can. Because, really, what other choice do I have?

















