Random Thoughts

This is what I find myself thinking about when I am woken too early:

Hope is a thing with wings. Despair is an overwhelming monstrous ominous thing that drags you down into the dark and blocks out all light.  I’ve walked more days with despair. Hope is too hard to aspire to. It lies. Despair tells the truth but is unkind. The higher hope takes you, the deeper the abyss when it inevitably fails you. If hope is a thing with wings, despair is a quiet warm comforting blanket that smothers you in sorrow.  If we do not hope, do we still despair? Is there a monochromatic, non-dramatic middle ground where we do not care because caring means feeling?

****

Mom had major surgery Wednesday so my sleep schedule has been out of whack the last few days. Only good to come out of waiting endlessly in the vast, empty space of a hospital lobby is time to write and disappear into another world. Also one of the few times I don’t mind being surrounded by family. Electronic devices keep us all locked in other worlds, other places, other mindsets. Can’t argue if you can’t lift your head to notice the flaws in others. Communication is brief, surface based, non-prying. Mom focused, condition focused, time lapsed focused. My step-father reads an actual hardback book about history, my younger sister does homework on her laptop, my older sister plays games on her Kindle, my younger brother reads or transcribes the bible at a table in the distance, and my youngest brother stares out into space jonesing for a cigarette. Wish he would quit.

Visiting hours are non-specified. We seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to spacing out our visits and avoiding too much overlap. Step-father and sisters take morning-afternoon shift. He leaves shortly after I arrive but sisters stay until evening. I like to sleep late so I take the afternoon-evening shift. Brothers drift in an out but stay for only an hour or so. Mom is more awake but still drifts in and out. She’s improving daily. Too much going on in her room to really focus on writing. Instead I paint on my Surface tablet (Fresh Paint) or play games. Make sure mom does her breathing exercises every hour and count off for her.

Time is a strange construct at hospitals. Minutes drag then whole hours disappear. Amazing how much energy it takes to sit around.

Weather is nasty and has turned cold. The hoodie I wore to the hospital this morning is no match for the wind and wet on my walk to the car in the dark. I’m not ready for winter.  B

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