I’m stealing a line from a song title today–the famous “Rainy Days and Mondays” by The Carpenters, 1971. Can’t you just hear the tune in your head now? If you can, then I can assure you that it’s probably going to be playing in there a long time! Or at least that’s what happens to me when I am reminded of a song I like–the lyrics and music dance in my brain for hours at a time before fading away, often to appear again when I am trying to fall asleep in the middle of the night. Curses! My brother calls this phenomena ‘ear worms’…an image I actually don’t even like to think about!
But today is Thursday, today it is raining, and today I am feeling down. Not exactly able to pinpoint why, so I’m chalking it partly up to the in-climate weather–I’m sure that clouds and rain and overcast skies can dampen anyone’s spirit, plus my joints hurt–my knees and my hips and even my finger joints ache. This is likely the result of a combination of things–the damp weather (no matter what the doctors claim, I’m convinced that anecdotal reports point to a correlation between weather and joint pain), and the fact that I’ve been busy working in my yard these past few weeks and have been generally ‘busy’ every day, working outside and in my garage or running errands or visiting my mother-in-law in the hospital or shopping at Costco.
So maybe I’ll count today as simply a rest day for me, a day to spend lounging inside my home, catching up on my email and reading blogs I enjoy and playing silly games on my iPad and thinking about my next writing projects.
I have a new idea for a novella–actually a novella series, that I want to tackle. For now all I have are quick story-line thoughts captured in Evernote; it may be that it’s time to begin writing the first book and see where the characters take me and find out if there actually is a story there to be told. (or, as writers like to say, ‘shown’, as in ‘show, don’t tell’.)
My late husband’s birthday is this month, too, and he is naturally on my mind as May 21 approaches. Plus yesterday I picked up his wedding ring that I had taken to a jeweler to be re-sized for my middle finger, and I’ve found myself staring at that ring a lot today. So many memories and feelings tied up in this small circle of white gold…the jeweler was able to maintain the inscription on the inside of the ring, and for that I am grateful, even though nobody will see it and nobody but me will even know it there. But I will know.
The inscription says, “Gary, love Sylvia, Nov 10, 1972”, and although the engraving is faded and worn, it is still readable to someone with good eyesight. (With my eyesight, though, it helps to have a magnifying glass on hand when trying to read it.)
Some people may consider me strange for choosing to wear Gary’s ring beside my own wedding band, but I think it is a part of my personal healing process. I have found out that grief is a long and lonely journey, and while I don’t contend that my grief is any worse or more special than someone else’s simply because it’s mine, it is mine, and I have to deal with it in my own way, even is that means wearing my husband’s ring on my finger or whispering ‘good night’ every night to his picture that hangs on my bedroom wall.
Anyway, I’m off topic, (again), so I think it’s time to stop writing for now. But fair warning–I will likely write more about this subject soon. Maybe the next time there’s a rainy Thursday or Monday or my body or heart aches or I feel sorry for myself…
I apologize for the self-absorption of this post and promise that my next one will be about a completely different topic. Maybe the sun will shine tomorrow and I can steal a line from a famous Beatles tune, Here Comes The Sun, 1969!
Drat–now that ‘ear worm’ is eating its way into my brain, too. I imagine it’s going to be another sleepless night for me tonight. Good thing I know all the words to these songs!
Here comes the sun…here comes the sun…la-la-la….it’s all right….