Caring for someone can be hard.
T had a very bad day at work and came in being Grumpy McGrumpyston. To add insult to injury, T’s upper back had a bit of a cramp. To make matters even worse, it was T’s night to cook, a chore neither of us enjoys. T groused about the day job while I continued working straight through to 9pm, with only 1/3 of my attention to spare while I made several business calls to one client (with the associated follow-up emails to my boss, as some of the issues were beyond my scope), typed up a long correspondence with another client, and edited a listing for a third. I’m afraid some of the pots and pans may be feeling rather abused from T’s ministrations preparing dinner. But around 10pm T settled into bed and turned out the light with the Nook’s FIOS app for company.
Sometimes the caring comes easily.
I was about to make hot chocolate for myself when my intuition told me to dampen an herbal pack and heat it up in the microwave. I wrapped it in a towel and woke dozing T to tuck the moist heat under the offending back muscles. Now T is comfortably tucked in and snoring. Things will probably look a little less daunting in the morning. They usually do.
It’s been a quiet few days here in the Birds’ Nest. I continue to be quite fascinated with my face and very content to be who I am. I had a rough few hours on Sunday while watching Black Girls Rock on BET. Seeing all of those women and girls be honored on national television for doing amazing things in the world triggered feelings of obscurity and regret. I wasn’t surprised by or troubled by my reaction though; I figured that was what would happen. But I really wanted to watch this show by black women about black women. I don’t see enough of ME on television in ways I can relate to. Those 150 minutes were precious, even with the emotional pain. I watched and reveled in the glorious display of accomplished melanin on my tv screen, then I turned off the tv and retreated into the warmth and satisfaction of my real life, preferring to focus on who and what is in my life instead of escaping into fantasies of grand achievements and privileged connections. I’m not always able to recover so smoothly from that kind of trigger, but so far this recovery has been smooth, and for that I am immensely grateful.
Today was therapy. I told Dr. C about meeting Jane a couple of weeks ago. Not only was he impressed with her reception of me, he was impressed with how I handled myself with her: rehearsing in advance what to say and holding it together in her presence so I would not have to come away with a list of regrets of what I could/should/would have said. “You weren’t one of those inappropriate fans.” I laughed and told him I have seen that kind of fan (not necessarily fans of hers, but fans in general) and have absolutely no desire to be that fan. He was pleased, and his approval pleased me.
I have been thinking about how gracious she was towards me and how much that meant to me, but until Dr. C commented on it I had not thought about how poised and respectful I was towards her compared to how I could have been, considering the intensity of my feelings about her public persona. I’m pretty damn pleased with myself, come to think of it. My mother used to say she never had to worry about sending me out in public; she knew she could send me even as high as the White House and I wouldn’t embarrass myself or her, because I know how to act. She’s right.
There was something even more deeply personal I wanted to discuss with Dr. C, but I haven’t yet gotten up the nerve to bring up the subject. I was catching up with a friend this afternoon, and it turns out she coaches people who need help in that area! Talk about the universe providing opportunities and being open enough to receive them! Even though I trust Dr. C as a therapist, I would rather talk to her about this anyway. So we are going to talk more in depth the next time we see each other and come up with a plan. I’m looking forward to that.
