Click here for column number three.
I have not done any lap swimming or water aerobics since December… until last night.
I have used a myriad of excuses to keep me from my beloved chlorine, but all of them could have been wrapped up in one simple excuse; I am so tired. Fatigue has been my most debilitating symptom of grief since my daughter died last year. The debilitating fatigue has mainly manifested itself by making it impossible for me to get dressed. (I’m sure there is some psychological meaning behind it, such as, “If I get dressed I have to face going into the world alone, without my ever-present sidekick.”) I have learned tricks I will share for other grieving mothers so you don’t have to figure this out on your own.
*When you finally sit up in bed in the morning, lift one foot to put through the leg hole of your underwear
*put your sock and shoe on at that time
*proceed to the other leg…(that way you only have to lift each foot once)
* wear skirts
*don’t forget your shirt as I did during one of the very early days back to work. Standing on the back porch with the strap of my tote bag crossed over my bra just didn’t feel quite right. It wasn’t until after I had locked the house and turned to go to the car that I realized what was amiss.
My dear co-workers know that I don’t have the ability to both shower and dress in the same morning, they have told me clothing isn’t optional and have put up with a non-showered me all year.
Tonight I swam laps. When I reached half the number of laps I would normally accomplish, I could no longer propel myself forward another inch. I stopped and spent the rest of my paid time doing water exercises. Last night I returned to water aerobics. Mid-way through the class, the instructor noticed I was struggling and proclaimed, “You need to come more.” I didn’t disagree. The chlorine smelled wonderful, the aches in my arms and belly suggested there might actually be muscles somewhere in my body, and my water friends are true. She is right. I need to come more.
I had to stop for gas on my home. I wished I was wearing a large sign that said, “Don’t judge.” My lovely water friends leave the locker room put together in fully appropriate attire, whereas I look like I just rolled out of bed and got hosed down on my way to Wal-mart.
~”When everything is moving and shifting, the only way to counteract chaos is stillness. When the surface is wavy, dive deeper for quieter waters.”