solitude |ˈsäləˌt(y)o͞od|
nounthe state or situation of being alone: she savored her few hours of freedom and solitude.• a lonely or uninhabited place.ORIGIN Middle English: from Old French, or from Latin solitudo, from solus ‘alone.’
A couple weeks after moving here and settling into the routine of coastguard life on the island I realized something that made my heart sink.
I was alone, and only one other human being on this island knew my name.
And I realized I was very out of practice in the art of going forth and meeting people, for it had been years upon years that I actually had to do that, and I thought (not for the first time) I'm not really a huge fan of being an adult right now.
flood |fləd| noun1 an overflowing of a large amount of water beyond its normal confines, especially over what is normally dry land: in a thousand miles the flood destroyed every bridge | people uprooted by drought or flood | [ as modifier ] : a flood barrier.• (the Flood)the biblical flood brought by God upon the earth because of the wickedness of the human race (Gen. 6 ff.).• the inflow of the tide.• literary a river, stream, or sea.2 an outpouring of tears or emotion: Rose burst into such a flood oftears and sobs as I had never seen.• a very large quantity of people or things that appear or need to be dealt with: a constant flood of callers.
Two weeks ago my feeling of solitude increased as my car experienced flooding in the early hours of a gloomy morning. My husband drove it to work as it was the only car able to make it our of our single-car-wide port. It's not his fault. I bought a car that was meant for the blizzards and ice of New England, not angry hurricanes. But now I have no mode of transportation. I am left stranded in my own home while my car sat in the station's parking lot waiting for a tow and evaluation. I couldn't get bread on a whim for that sandwich I was craving, not without making it a two hour adventure, and with no guarantee that after an hour of walking to the store, buying bread, and carrying it back, that I would even still want that sandwich...I wasn't mad at Gregory, it wasn't his fault we experienced a natural catastrophe, but I was upset...
So far, no break down yet. But I can feel a build up in my chest, and my stomach, and behind my eyes. It wouldn't be long.
pain |pān| noun1 physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury: she's ingreat pain| those who suffer from back pain | chest pains.• mental suffering or distress: the pain of loss.• (also pain in the neckor vulgar slang pain in the ass) [ in sing. ] informal an annoying or tedious person or thing: she's a pain.2 (pains) careful effort; great care or trouble: she took painsto see that everyone ate well | he is at pains topoint out that he isn't like that.verb [ with obj. ] cause mental or physical pain to: it pains me to say this | her legs had been paining her.
A couple days later I woke with a twinge in my lower back. Throughout the day that twinge spread and intensified. My lower back was replaced with a block of concrete and nerves that would remind me that I had no flexibility all of a sudden. The day went by with lots of stretching, and icing, and stretching, and icing...and finally sleep came. But it did not last long. I woke up in the middle of the night, close to tears, and moved myself from beside my husband on this stupid cushy mattress we shared, to the floor. The relief was there, not complete but there. My husband, realizing I had left, appeared over the foot of our bed, pillow in hand.
"Scoot over." He said. "You don't have to sleep on the floor, too. We don't both need to be uncomfortable." I said, scooting over as I spoke."I can sleep anywhere," he replied, "and I want to sleep next to my wife."
The pain lasted through the next day and ebbed away. In the midst of this there were phone calls with insurance, and to garages as I tried to find one that would touch a flooded vehicle. My over active imagination went crazy.
I don't want a new car!I don't want my car to be marked with water damage!I don't want to be doing this at all!What about what's left on my loan?Gap insurance? What the heck is that? Do I have it?Why? Why did this have to happen??
And there it was. The culmination of it all. I found myself curled in bed waiting for my husband to finish brushing his teeth, and I could just feel it. As if the inside of my chest was expanding, and my eyes were about to pop out. He came out of the bathroom and noticed me curled up and more quiet than normal.
"What's wrong?" He said.
And that was that...no more wall, the dam was broken. Out trickled the tears, then the sobs, and then the words.
I miss my familyI miss homeIt's lonely hereI don't like itIt's practically abandonedWe have no friendsYou're the only one who knows meThere's nowhere to goAnd now I don't even have a car to explore this nowhereAnd I don't want them to total my carI'm afraid of what the salt water has doneI'm tired of all the stress!My back is tired of being stressedI don't even know if I'll ever find a jobHow will I be able to afford losing my car!?I wish this was all over so I could stop thinking.
Silence. Then arms wrap around me and the air is filled with promises that it will be alright, no matter what happens it will be alright
I fell asleep that night with a headache that so often accompanies a flash flood of tears. And even though nothing had changed I certainly felt better. I was reminded of David and how over and over he would begin a psalm with praises and thanksgiving to God, and then go on to explain all that was going on, various troubles and dangers he was facing. And even at the end, with things unresolved and unknown, he gives thank, he sings praises, and continually puts his trust and faith in God.
So this morning I sit here with a cup of coffee growing cold on the table, and an ice pack on my back, and psalms in front of me. I am going to immerse, to study, and try to be like David and give praise and thanksgiving and have a bit of optimism regardless of everything that is going on right now.
Two weeks ago my feeling of solitude increased as my car experienced flooding in the early hours of a gloomy morning. My husband drove it to work as it was the only car able to make it our of our single-car-wide port. It's not his fault. I bought a car that was meant for the blizzards and ice of New England, not angry hurricanes. But now I have no mode of transportation. I am left stranded in my own home while my car sat in the station's parking lot waiting for a tow and evaluation. I couldn't get bread on a whim for that sandwich I was craving, not without making it a two hour adventure, and with no guarantee that after an hour of walking to the store, buying bread, and carrying it back, that I would even still want that sandwich...I wasn't mad at Gregory, it wasn't his fault we experienced a natural catastrophe, but I was upset...
So far, no break down yet. But I can feel a build up in my chest, and my stomach, and behind my eyes. It wouldn't be long.
pain |pān| noun1 physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury: she's ingreat pain| those who suffer from back pain | chest pains.• mental suffering or distress: the pain of loss.• (also pain in the neckor vulgar slang pain in the ass) [ in sing. ] informal an annoying or tedious person or thing: she's a pain.2 (pains) careful effort; great care or trouble: she took painsto see that everyone ate well | he is at pains topoint out that he isn't like that.verb [ with obj. ] cause mental or physical pain to: it pains me to say this | her legs had been paining her.
A couple days later I woke with a twinge in my lower back. Throughout the day that twinge spread and intensified. My lower back was replaced with a block of concrete and nerves that would remind me that I had no flexibility all of a sudden. The day went by with lots of stretching, and icing, and stretching, and icing...and finally sleep came. But it did not last long. I woke up in the middle of the night, close to tears, and moved myself from beside my husband on this stupid cushy mattress we shared, to the floor. The relief was there, not complete but there. My husband, realizing I had left, appeared over the foot of our bed, pillow in hand.
"Scoot over." He said. "You don't have to sleep on the floor, too. We don't both need to be uncomfortable." I said, scooting over as I spoke."I can sleep anywhere," he replied, "and I want to sleep next to my wife."
The pain lasted through the next day and ebbed away. In the midst of this there were phone calls with insurance, and to garages as I tried to find one that would touch a flooded vehicle. My over active imagination went crazy.
I don't want a new car!I don't want my car to be marked with water damage!I don't want to be doing this at all!What about what's left on my loan?Gap insurance? What the heck is that? Do I have it?Why? Why did this have to happen??
And there it was. The culmination of it all. I found myself curled in bed waiting for my husband to finish brushing his teeth, and I could just feel it. As if the inside of my chest was expanding, and my eyes were about to pop out. He came out of the bathroom and noticed me curled up and more quiet than normal.
"What's wrong?" He said.
And that was that...no more wall, the dam was broken. Out trickled the tears, then the sobs, and then the words.
I miss my familyI miss homeIt's lonely hereI don't like itIt's practically abandonedWe have no friendsYou're the only one who knows meThere's nowhere to goAnd now I don't even have a car to explore this nowhereAnd I don't want them to total my carI'm afraid of what the salt water has doneI'm tired of all the stress!My back is tired of being stressedI don't even know if I'll ever find a jobHow will I be able to afford losing my car!?I wish this was all over so I could stop thinking.
Silence. Then arms wrap around me and the air is filled with promises that it will be alright, no matter what happens it will be alright
I fell asleep that night with a headache that so often accompanies a flash flood of tears. And even though nothing had changed I certainly felt better. I was reminded of David and how over and over he would begin a psalm with praises and thanksgiving to God, and then go on to explain all that was going on, various troubles and dangers he was facing. And even at the end, with things unresolved and unknown, he gives thank, he sings praises, and continually puts his trust and faith in God.
So this morning I sit here with a cup of coffee growing cold on the table, and an ice pack on my back, and psalms in front of me. I am going to immerse, to study, and try to be like David and give praise and thanksgiving and have a bit of optimism regardless of everything that is going on right now.
❤️❤️❤️
ReplyDeleteI cried, then I was thankful for your husband and your resolve to press in.
ReplyDelete