I haven’t posted for almost a week because I felt like CRAP until last Thursday. Then, I was overwhelmed by how much there was to do after sitting on the couch for a week.
About six days ago, sitting on that couch with wine and a pot brownie mellowing my bloodstream, I watched my oldest friend Clair do the dishes. It was a weird experience, I’m not the kind to sit around. I’m the kind to get up and clear the table.
Yet, half fuzzy-headed and half-nauseated, I sat there gratefully and watched her scrape the plates from the dinner she’d brought over. I watched her wipe down the counters. I watched her put away the leftovers. I watched her dodge the dog, a food-aholic that always tries to lick the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I watched as she put wine bottles and foil in recycling. I watched as she skeptically eyed all the mac and cheese left on the kid’s plate as dessert came into play. I explained that the kid had already had two pieces of fruit and a plate of pasta when she came home from school. Then, I watched as she called to the kid and asked if she wanted apple cake with caramel sauce. I watched her cut the cake and serve it.
I gratefully ate the cake. The last 10 days have been like that. I am learning that it is much more difficult to accept help than to give it.