This is about depression, and about friendship, and about spring. It is also about how people can surprise you - even yourself.
In November I wrote a diary for the Kos Health Care Series about fetal alcohol syndrome. It had been planned some time before but was delayed because of the traffic around the election, and so it happened that I wrote it two days before my son's 24th birthday. It is probably one of the best pieces I have written, and I have sent links to it to a number of friends.
Among the more personal paragraphs was this:
He cannot live at home, although he wants to, because of the holes in the walls that he punched or kicked, the things he stole or broke, and the threats he made to me. I sleep in the living room because I have not had the energy to clean up the glass from the broken window in my bedroom (it's been a very long time). I started sleeping in the living room when he still lived here because I never knew who he would bring to the house at any hour, and if I were in the living room at least I stood a chance of waking up to deal with it.
In January, I got the e-mail address of one of the women I play with (and drive with) in Sierra Vista, and sent her links to a couple of my things that I thought she would like. It took her a while to read them, and when she did, her response had me in tears. She said that if the glass was still on the bedroom floor, she would come and help me get it up.
My house has been the place where my depression shows itself. My defense against the loss of so much that I cared about was to stop caring, and this became a cycle of mood and surroundings which trapped me. I have not invited anyone to my house in several years. My son has continued to break in when I am not home during the times he is up here in this rural area where there is no public transportation. He takes food, and continues to steal when he can. The last time he was here, he stole my jewelry case.
It took me a week or two to get up the courage to accept Jean's offer, and the date we set up was yesterday. During the week, I had asked about postponing it for a few days, since I felt I had too much to do to make the house remotely presentable. She wrote back and said she would bring whatever cleaning stuff I needed, and would help me make it presentable. In spite of my panic, I agreed, and yesterday was a day of serious cleaning.
We didn't get to the glass on my bedroom floor. I had decided to start with the kitchen and bathroom, and that took all day. I exhausted myself in the bathroom after a few hours and soon after that we went out to lunch. After we came back, Jean continued with the kitchen, and I worked on a few short projects with rests in between. I told her this day was her birthday present to me - my birthday is next week-end.
Almost two years ago, I bought a set of dishes to replace those that were broken or lost. Blue Willow - the real Royal Cuthbertson porcelain, with everything including napkin rings - which has remained in the box in the living room, since I did not want them broken or lost. Well, I woke up this morning and started to unpack and wash them. They are now in my cabinets or drying on the dishrack. This was my birthday present to myself.