Life is full of disappointments, we are told.
Politicians can be disappointing. Governments can be disappointing. Heroes can be disappointing. Even movies, books, vacations or meals can be disappointing, especially if you’ve been anticipating them for a long time.
I think the worst disappointments, though, are the ones involving the people we love. It’s such a helpless, sad feeling – disappointment. It leaves you feeling deaf and mute, weak and blank and paralysed. It’s not even about you, really, but you somehow feel lost in a maze of someone else’s misfortunes.
I’m on one of these paths right now, and I have to say, I can’t figure it out. I keep moving forward because I have to, going to work, spending time with Frank and Evey, tidying the house, watching TV. But it’s always there, in my head, in my heart — this awful deep ache that I’m feeling for loved ones as they question everything they know.
Everything else seems so petty in comparison.
However, it is a small comfort to know that I can still bake a good batch of cookies (which I did tonight, and muffins, too). Listening to Mozart’s “Marriage of Figaro” on the radio is a gentle salve to my soul. I delight a bit to think of the snow we had earlier this week and I find solace in the steady, warm burn of the fire before me now. And I am again thankful for the friends I can write to or call, and the firm, solid presence of my husband and daughter sitting beside me. They say even petting a dog releases endorphins (for both you and the dog!), so Georgie is getting a lot of rubs this week. 🙂
I’m not trying to avoid my feelings. I just wish I could help. I wish I could make cookies and a fire for you. I wish you could stroke my dog’s silky coat. But for now, I’ll just say it again, even though you know it – I love you, and I’m sorry.