Like hundreds of leaky faucets dripping loudly in nighttime stillness, the random pings and clangs and tings abruptly jar my thoughts, bouncing them around in one direction then another. Darting here and there, I watch for positive glimmers to shine through the gray, drenched day.
With quick suddenness, she put a plastic bag on the floor next to my computer.
“Take that out to your car as soon as you can, Hon,” she said to me.
Finishing up what I was doing, curiosity took hold. I opened the bag to find a simply wrapped gift. Tears welled up in my eyes as I darted into the next room to hug her. I knew that gift was given in gratitude, and I was humbled and honored to receive it.
When I got home, the tears came again when I went through the contents of the gift. A holiday hand towel, pot holders and…. Socks! How funny that the little tidbit of my lack of socks got around.
The phone rang as I was reaching for a shopping cart, the Irish flute ringtone echoing in the entryway of the busy grocery store.
“I’m cooking a huge meal for Christmas. Can you come?”
Yes, I will come. I rarely get to visit my friends with my work schedule, and I miss them terribly. Yes, I will go.
Clank, ping, ting…
Drenched, soaked, the turnout blanket heavy and glistening, Odin snorts at the water at his feet. The wide swath is much more than he’s ever seen on the ground, and it is between me and him. He throws his head, trots a small circle, snorts at the water again before darting off in another direction. He can’t get to me. My heart swells and threatens to break. I can’t get to him either. But I will. Oh yes, I will. I will later when it’s light out enough to see more.
Thunk, drip drip drip…
My son! How I miss my boy! My heart swells more and the cracks widen, growing ever closer to breaking. I see Tim even less than I see my friends because of conflicting work schedules. The flooding, the lake surrounding my house, stands as a barrier between me and him today too.
Ting ting ting, drip drip…
Finally, a rhythmic sound breaking through all the random noise of the rainfall. It’s the snoring of the dogs, all curled and warm, sleeping soundly on my increasingly inviting bed. An eye moves behind a closed lid, highlighting a peaceful dream. A soft moan of a sigh with a twitch of a toe. A solitary thump of a wagged tail. They are my babies, content and comfortable.
New sets of guitar strings, dusty now in their wrapping, waiting to be stretched from the bridge to the tuning pegs. They’ve been sitting on my desk for months now, patiently waiting for the music to rise to the point where it demands expression again.
The things that need repair, the broken needing a fix, the bills, more bills and time that flies by as what started as small things now reach crisis level.
Ting, ting, ding….
Wait! Find the glimmers. See the positives. There are so many more positives than negatives. Friends reach out with love, well-wishes, phone calls and thoughts. I owe my life to my son and friends, my dogs and horse. They are what it means to be me, and they always remind me when I forget that I am not alone.
You, dear reader, are my friend too. You stop, read and comment, broadening my world far beyond the reaches of my senses. You let my words touch you, and in turn, I am touched. For you, I send my best, my thanks, and my love.
Drip, drop drop…. Ting, ping ting…. Clank thunk…
Odin, standing on high ground and out of the flooding water means he is without a wind break. Still, he cocks a hind foot and snoozes, his ears flicking when he catches me in the window checking on him. He knows he is ok.
Yes, everything is ok.