For some reason, time moves slower when you’re unsuccessfully trying to sleep.
I gave it a good effort. I laid still for two hours and relaxed. I tried to shut my brain off, listen to Brian’s slow steady breathing, and follow suit. It just wasn’t happening.
One of Brian’s best friends was driving drunk and ended up in a terrible car accident tonight. He was hit in the driver’s side door by a pick-up truck. Thank God nobody else was hurt. (And that is not a blasphemous reference to God. I really am saying a prayer of thanks) Brian’s friend was then air lifted to North Memorial - Level 1 Trauma Center. Apparently he was operated on by the same surgeon that reattached that 3-year old’s arms after they’d been severed in a grain auger. I didn’t go to the hospital. I was angry he had been driving drunk and frustrated that once again . . . we were going through this.
And so, I stayed home and cried. At times I was crying for the person that laid in the hospital bed and at other times I was crying for the pain that Brian must be feeling. I know that Brian is not friends’ with this person because he drinks - he is in spite of his drinking. It’s a classic “Love the sinner, not the sin” relationship. And, with this man’s sparkling wit and shy tenderness it’s hard not to love the sinner.
Brian came home at 2 a.m. and said that they’re having a hard time getting him stabilized after surgery. There’s a laundry list of injuries: Broken ribs, punctured lung, skull fracture, damage to his spleen, internal bleeding in his stomach and pelvis. “It doesn’t look good.” Brian said, “His head’s all swollen and they’ve stuck gauze in every orifice.” There was mention that not enough oxygen is getting to his brain, but there is so much else going on that it’s hard to sort out the details. We laid in bed for a while and talked before Brian began to drift off to sleep. All of this has once again reminded me how fragile our life is. I wrapped my arms around him and made him promise that he would never get in a car accident. I put my hand on his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart. I was comforted by heat of his body and the sounds of his breathing.
I knew there would be times when our marriage would face trauma and heartache - but I didn’t know that those moments would cause me to love with my husband in a way that I never knew possible. I didn’t know that just the warmth of his skin and the sound of his breathing would help calm me. Granted - it’s not calming me to the point of sleep, but I imagine after 20+ years, it just may.
"We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it to our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come . . . . There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself."
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
If anyone ever somehow gets beyond the dress rehearsal to opening night, let me know.
It started out with stubbing my toe on the corner of the bed and ending up getting to the gym 5 min late for spin class.
I spent 20 minutes on the stairclimber, shower and get dressed in a cute - but very uncomfortable outfit. I now remember why I don't wear this skirt.
I step into my office and hear my coworker clomp in behind me. She starts to explain how she's gone off her 'meds'. Then rants on and on about this, that and something else that I was trying not to listen to. Needless to say, it became very apparent that she had 'gone off her meds'. (cuckoo!)
Around noon, I found out that my lunch (my banana) was indeed rotten and I headed out to find something edible. I spent $8 on a salad that tasted like poo. I should have stuck to the rotten banana. So, I fill up on water and realize that my uncomfortable skirt has now become more uncomfortable since I'm all filled up with water.
This afternoon, I had a frustrating conversation with our vendors out in California which resulted in further frustration passed on each time I've had to retell the story. My boss, "Hey, what did you find out from Sylvia?" My coworker, "Sounded like someone got on your badside, what happened?" Grrr... I don't want to repeat it.
I only have an hour more of work before I can head home, roses in hand (thanks hon) and change into some comfy clothes.
Tonight, we're babysitting Soren. A couple smiles from him and I'm sure the craziness of today will just melt away.
