Working out of Acedia

A cool cloudy October 20th, the first anniversary of my mother’s death. We’ve weathered through the first year. We took some flowers to her grave site yesterday. We had a rose for her friend, Amy but we couldn’t find her unmarked site. We knew it was nearby but it was too cold to do a long search. We added the rose to mom’s bouquet. Next visit, Amy.

A year is not a long time. Her absence felt long. I can’t remember or feel the time between her leaving and the present. I find myself wondering what the heck happened. How did I get here? It is best to leave those feelings and questions unexplored. I would only get lost in them and it would do more harm than good.

So here I am, on this 20th day of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I haven’t completely dispelled my acedia which is described by AI as a state of listlessness, apathy, and a lack of care, often involving spiritual or moral laziness and indifference. I sometimes still find myself emotionless, incapable of being upset by anything or anyone. I suppose it can be a good thing. I’ve been too emotional in the past, with a short fuse, erupting like a volcano too often. It’s restful being in acedia.

I think I needed acedia but I’m slowing easing out of it. Maybe it’s due to my daily tapping on the keyboard. Maybe it is making an intention of losing 17 pounds. Today I feel a tiny twinge of being alive and slightly kicking. I feel trimmer, losing the pound I gained. I vacuumed yesterday. The house feels so much cleaner. The diningroom table is once again cleared. Can I say hallelujah?

PROCESSING, LEARNING

There are times now I can smile instead of cry when I think of Sheba. When I woke this morning I heard the guy in the kitchen. It was like other mornings when Sheba was here on earth. The two of them would make coffee. Then I would hear the kibbles drop into Sheba’s bowl. I could hear her crunching- more thoughtful now that she’s older. I knew that this was in the past, but the sounds and feelings were the same. I was hearing the wonderful sounds of an ordinary morning. And I smiled.

Over yesterday and today, I’ve washed Sheba’s bowls and toys. I cried then, clinging to the doggy memories attached to these things. I will store them away. Maybe we will be graced with another tender canine heart in awhile. For now I will just be with how life is, not trying to fight or change anything. Some days are better than others but I am always making an effort. However small it is, it is my best effort at the time.

I hope I don’t sound too obsessed and depressing. I am a little melancholy by nature. I’m a little more so in my writing. It is my tool for venting and working through my thoughts, feelings and problems. I am by no means a slouch or a couch potato during this period of mourning. I still get up, dress up and show up every day. I might be operating on a slower speed.


It is another day. I’m still working on this post. I must be slow as molasses in winter. It is summer and we’ve just starting to have some warm days. I did find it difficult to get out of bed this morning. Not all mornings are equal. I was thinking there was no Sheba to get me up. So I must do it by myself. And I did. That’s pretty good, isn’t it?