Tea and Sandhogs

It's been a hard day. I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm unmotivated and angry. I slept most of the day, after taking too many pain pills.

I woke up to watch a segment of a show on the History Channel on the Sandhogs of New York, the guys who keep the underworld of Manhattan's pipes in order. An elderly man was being honored for his years of service. The jokes about him were hilarious, the love in the room was palpable, the commaraderie was enviable.

At one point, the camera turns on him in a private moment, and he said, "If the good lord were to take me tomorrow, I'd say thank you, I've had a good run." Then the shot panned to him and his wife holding hands, walking a street in Ireland, where they were obviously now taking a vacation.

If I were to die tomorrow, would I be able to say the same thing? Would I be able to face the "good lord" to thank him for my "good run"? How wonderful it must be to experience such a feeling.

I began crying at the question, as I'm crying now as I write this. My jaw and face hurt constantly. To be honest, I'm hard pressed to say it's been a good run.

I'm sure there are others who think my life enviable, and on certain days, I'm certainly grateful for what I do have. But when one is in chronic pain, it's hard to get to the next thought let alone a state of gratitude.

I've been crying a lot today, when I haven't been sleeping. I can only hope tomorrow will be better.

My cat, Hope, is at my feet now, sleeping peacefully. Usually when I get on my computer, she comes over to look for a treat, but she's not bothering me now. She's come over just to keep me company.

I think I'll make some tea. Time to take a break from so much nothingness.