My holiday weekend began with very little cheer. My son barely made it through exams Thursday with a terrible cold that developed into bronchitis by Friday. For the week, I'd brought a pain spell on myself by forgetting a morpheme patch change. Then there was IBS & UTI to add misery. As if that wasn't enough, toilet tissue was scarce. I'd made myself content with having no funds for Christmas gifts. I was going to be happy with just 'love'. Friday I discovered some mail from the bank that had been overlooked in the junk mail. Anxiety came over me when I saw 3 identical extremely thin envelopes from the bank amidst a pile of unsorted junk mail. I didn't want to destroy the content feelings I'd managed to find by examining the contents of the envelopes, but I did. Yes, I was overdrawn! Now I'm not just broke, I'm over $100 in the negative and dropping by $5 daily Its the weekend, too late to call. Doesn't matter, I only have $30 in rebate checks plus $7 in my purse. Not enough. I cried over it a minute then decided I couldn't do anything about it now so I would put it out of my mind until Monday when I could talked to bank. In the meantime, I would continue in the contentment I'd found before this unexpected crisis. I had no control over my fate with the bank for the moment. So while waiting for Monday, I'll balance my feelings of helplessness by taking charge of what I can control, by doing something productive and proactive. I'll lessen some of my negative feelings of anger and sadness by surrounding myself with things that bring gladness and cheer. So for the body, I made myself glass of homemade cranberry juice and a fiber bar. For the spirit I lit my scented candle and tuned into a Christmas movie. For the mind, I began working on my website design. I was up all night, but not for worrying about finances. I was up successfully finalizing the style of my websites. For the first time I'd been able to maintain focus and control my ADHD brain long enough to decipher all the code for the designs I desired to implement. Saturday afternoon, I was still working when the doorbell rang. It was my step dad! I'd totally forgotten about the possibility of his arrival for the weekend. Calling my disconnected ATT phone, he'd been unable to reach me so he just came on. It was a pleasant surprise, but my house was in chaos. God bless him, for not making me feel worse for not being prepared. Remember...I'm out of toilet paper... I had to send him right back out to get it! But never mind my lack of cheer, he brought all the Christmas cheer with him, beginning with a silver flask of Coquito ..... That's like a Puerta Rican egg nog. He gave me the greatest gift I've received in years. TIME. Over the past few years, with diminished body and mind, my greatest loss has been the attention of others. Unable to drive or be mobile in many ways I've felt left out the social loop. My contacts have been just curbside service for trips to the grocery, doctors or church. No one crosses my threshold to actually visit anymore. My identity has become lost in my illness. People do for me but not with me. But when my step dad came Saturday, he came to visit ME! Well, I'm blessed to have a father who actually shares many of the same interests, ie computers and the internet. We're willing to listen to each others techie talk. He let me show off all the web development accomplishments I'd been up all night working on.
Monday he accompanied me to the bank to discuss my error with the manager and get me out the red. Afterward, he spent the remainder of the day and all night on some much needed home repairs. All year I've been trying to find someone to do these simple repairs and assemble my bathroom spacesaver shelf, I purchased it for myself last Christmas, but my son was unsuccessful at assembly. I thought for lack of proper tools and experience. Turns out it was poorly fitted flimsy parts, yet my stepdad worked all night trying to make the best out them before deciding it was better to return the wobbly result. My point is not the shelf, but the patience, the time that my step dad gave in his efforts to give me my desire. That was the real gift. I will forever remember how we stayed up all night in the floor frustrated by that 'dat blamed' shelf. I will forever appreciate my step dad's willingness to waste his time...for ME.
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