I shut down yesterday. I just hit a wall.
I got up, came downstairs and ate breakfast. I looked at the time, canceled my morning meeting and went back to bed. I laid there and tried to focus on quiet breathing. Finally I slept on and off until noon.
The news the night before about the loss of John Prine was not completely unexpected, of course, but still heartbreaking. Somehow, waking up with that news on my mind just brought the whole year crashing down on me.
2020 really started for us on December 26 when we got the bad test results about Ernie's cancer. Then the ER and hospital stay, the start of radiation and chemo. David Olney's death. Then sheltering in place and looking at the world in the times of this pandemic. Worrying about my boys, worrying about us.
John Prine's death just seemed to roll it all up into a ball and drop it down on top of me.
I finally got up around noon and did a couple of work related things that I had to get done. Then I read a trashy novel that I barely remember now. I was moderately cross with the boys for no good reason. I alternated between trying to push through and just reveling in it. Eventually, the sky started to get gray so Ernie and I went to sit outside and watch. The boys came out and we all sat and watched the clouds move in and the lightning flash. The storm helped. There's a release when a storm rolls in and it felt good. It felt satisfying.
I will note that Bob's day was somewhat calmer.
He sat in his box.
He slept with his human.
He pondered life in his box.