April 4, 2022 EDLM Entry
The month of March has not been an easy one. I usually think of coming into Spring after the long darkness of winter as holding an expectant air of hope and relief. But not this March.
With the horrid reports, pictures, news flashes of the Russian attacks on Ukraine coming daily, my heart sinks. I feel frustrated, angry, helpless, horrified, depressed and hopeless. I ask myself, “What are we as a humanity doing to ourselves? What is wrong with Vladimir Putin? What kind of sickness does this?” And he isn’t the only one. Autocrats in other countries have done this and are still doing this. As a human race there are those who kill others and feel entitled to do so. I don’t understand.
Still reeling from the death of my husband coming up now on two years ago, I’m still getting through one day at a time trying to make sense of life and of his death. Missing him has not gotten softer, not mellowed. Trying to put a life back together or starting a new one, however one approaches it, is daunting. Sometimes I talk to him so much I wonder if I’m bothering him! Funny to say, but a real thought and even a concern. I still want to take care of him.
Going into week 4 with a knee that screams frequently with just walking on it has severely limited my usual active Spring clean-up chores. March is when I try to get started on some of the summer projects before summer heat drives me indoors.
So, I think about what I have done and what I can still do. Today I thought about the Ukrainian flay I hung out and the small wall hanging I made and hung on my front door using their flag colors. Little it seems in the scope of a war, but satisfaction that I can protest and feel in solidarity with a people living on the other side of the world.
Icing, putting on a knee brace and using a cane still keeps me doing what I can. I get discouraged, but also feel good that I’m persisting and muttering through.
Grief lingers, but I’m getting through each day by doing whatever is in front of me. Still directionless and meandering, but getting through.
I’m feeling good about deciding to put myself in positions of helping other people where I can. It helps to get my mind onto others and maybe my muttering through will at least count for something.
Today, I’m house-sitting for my daughter and family and helping my son paint trim on his house project. I tell him about my work with my Afghanistan refugee friends. I feel like I’m mentoring ones who need to know some of the things I take for granted just because I’m accustomed to our culture and know the language.
During my painting I think of all these things: current events, where my life has taken me and what I’m doing at the present.
Whatever it is, it’s my life in this day and I guess it’s enough.
I wish I knew there would be a brighter light up ahead.