I made the mistake of skimming the news this morning. That is not a particularly happy way to start the day. I want to retreat to my isolated lighthouse—the retreat that will keep me safe from a world that is falling apart.
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The cold weather this week and the prospect of icy or snowy conditions are worrisome. Forecasts like I’ve seen online make me wish I could arrange to have my radiation treatments and my chemotherapy performed at my house, rather than making the trek to the cancer center. If the weather gets bad enough, the center might not open, thereby delaying my treatments that already have been delayed. Such is life, I suppose. I’ll just have to deal with what comes.
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Sometime after sunrise this morning, I will bundle up and go to each of the water faucets around the outside of the house. I will implore each one to prevent the water inside the pipes from freezing when frigid weather arrives. As an incentive to do as I ask, I will cover each of the faucets with a foam faucet cover…assuming, of course, I have enough covers to protect each of the faucets. Before the coldest weather is expected to arrive, I will open cabinet doors under the sinks inside the house and will turn the inside faucets on to let the water drip. The prospect of dealing with these chores is almost enough to make me want to sell the house, buy a condo, and rely on condominium staff or contractors to handle the unpleasant aspects of home ownership.
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Memories magnify past pleasures. They also recapture past mistakes, inserting them into the present as enduring regrets. No amount of contrition is enough to wash away the guilt left by the most severe regrets; nor should there be. The most appropriate, yet utterly inadequate, penalty for certain actions or omissions—especially willful, conscious wrongs—is searing, perpetual regret. Sorrow—even deeply intense, heartfelt sorrow—is not enough. Anguish can barely begin to serve as a reckoning for those wrongs. Magnified memories of past pleasures, when overwhelmed by immeasurably bitter remorse, become tools of asphyxiation. Even the most joyful memories drown in bottomless pools of regret.
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Once again, a generous and thoughtful friend called yesterday to ask if she could stop by to deliver some “goodies” to us. And, of course, we said “of course.” And, when she came by, we sat and chatted for a while. Though I was feeling pretty good during her visit, after she left I decided to take an early nap…at 6:00 PM. I had not been able to sleep, six hours later, but I had stayed in bed all that time. And I stayed in bed until about 4:30 AM, when I finally gave up. I am sure I slept a bit, off and on, but it was a thoroughly unsatisfying “nap” for me. Despite being unable to sleep, I felt more and more tired, fatigued, worn, and otherwise weak. At least I felt good while our friend was here for a visit. Now, I hope I can get at least a short nap…a real one…a little later this morning.
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