If our story was a novel, this is the point where we’d yell ‘plot twist’. Readers would puzzle and say ‘I didn’t see that coming’ and other wiser beings those who are clued up on foreshadowing and other literary devices would say ‘I knew it all along.’
But for us, well we’re not the writers of this tale, we’re simply those featuring in this ‘tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’
We are merely actors on the stage.
Five days home and my Englishman is slowly recovering, as are we. It’s not been the joyous happy homecoming I would have hoped for. In fact, it’s been edged with grief, underscored with anger and helplessness. Full of sound and fury.
At first there wasn’t much help from the medical folk. He came home without a full prescription, and in my view, too early. But they needed the bed.
I was anxious that home represented all the stress of fractured relationships – parenting and otherwise – and of course the albatross that is our home-based businesses – both his and mine. And I wasn’t wrong. The day after he came home a client ripped through the house amidst ‘red mist’ grabbed his equipment and left, leaving Son and My Englishman visibly distressed. At least the girls weren’t home. And then there’s the twenty-something bint who is demanding her money back, despite all the work that he has done.
Customer service issues like these are not easy to deal with when your head is still hurting. I’ve tried to calm the waters, and tried to keep my Englishman off the computer and fretting about work but to no avail. He’s still not right, and yet he feels a huge need to do all he can for his clients.
Which is so him. You could argue that’s part of how he got into this situation.
I don’t understand people. I’ll admit it. If it were a matter of life and death then maybe these actions would be justified, but they’re not.
And then there are the other people, all those good souls who have taken time to help and console. Some of them don’t even know us. I’m grateful for them. And for my family and friends. They’ve seen through to practical ways they can help. They restore my faith in people.
I’ve been trying to sort myself out so I have strength to soothe our wounded clan. I went to a movie for the first time in years on Saturday night with a friend and had a blast. ‘Gone Girl’ is a great film, perfect for taking your mind off plot twists and other life dramas in the real world. I picked a house load of Spring flowers and smile every time I see them. I’m actively seeking more work so that I can help keep our family secure, and I bought a new sports bra. I haven’t managed to pound the pavement yet but I will soon. Just as soon as I manage to locate my running pants.
Life continues on creating a new normal. We had a roast chicken dinner last night for dinner and watched the X Factor on TV. The dog’s finished her antibiotics and now needs worming. The kids all need one on one time during the school holidays. The medical teams are starting to offer practical support. Thank God!
The new normal is a little fragile. We keep looking for signs that it’s soon about to go pear shaped once more. We need to stop that. I’m still counting the days off. Day one, done. Day two, completed. Day three..
As if the new normal was something to be endured like a marathon.
I guess in a way it is. But each day I’m hoping that like a butterfly fresh from the chrysalis our wings will soon dry. And then, oh and then we will fly.