picture courtesy of Leanne from Writings and Ruminations
words: xday, cvowel, xstool, xspaceship, xcalm
The crisp fall wind blew the fall colored leaves violently about. The leaves would lift off the ground in large bunches, whip through the air and fall back to the ground only to lift them up again. But Nancy wasn’t feeling the wind or the leaves that were whipping against her face. In fact, she wasn’t feeling much of anything…. Anything but the storm that seemed to be brewing deep inside. of her soul.
She was tired of pretending. Tired of pretending that her life was perfect. That she was the perfect wife and the perfect mother (who had time to play “spaceship” with her son), that she had the perfect little family. Tired of pretending that everything was all rosey in her world.
On this particular day it had been one thing after the next. Getting up late; Barely getting coffee, breakfast, lunch, etc for her husband and son; Having to go back out because she had forgot things earlier; Running late to pick up her son at school. That afternoon, she had been working in the kitchen, while her son sat on the stool opposite her working on some “homework he had brought home from Kindergarten – The class was “larning” vowels. “Learning” she corrected him”…. As he was excitedly explaining what he was learning, Nancy’s son had knocked over the glass of milk she had poured him earlier to drink with snack. She couldn’t be upset at him. He should have been more careful, but he was only five. It didn’t help when a few minutes later her husband came home from work, slamming the door shut (obviously in a bad mood).
“What the HELL” happened here?” He Exclaimed, Looking at the spilt milk all over the counter. Nancy was nearly in tears as she went about cleaning up the spill.
Afterwards, she decided she needed a walk and sometime to think. She had found herself sitting on a bench along one of her favorite paths.
It hadn’t been just that day that was bringing her down and it wasn’t her…. But a collage of days. One Day seemed to blend into the next…. Day after Day; Week after Week; Month after Month Till she thought she might go insane. She was tired of constantly being yelled at, of being expected to be perfect and to have everything running perfectly, she was just plain tired.
The wind continued to whip against Nancy’s face as she struggled to find an inner calm.