Overdose

111309

Corrine Bailey Rae sings, “…patience is a virtue….” I know she didn’t coin these words of wisdom, but I never heard them before hearing her song. Those are significant words when you think about what they mean. Patience is a virtue. And I wish I could say I own it. Maybe someday.

The past five years have been crazy with people dropping by the house and calling on the phone (sometimes I answer, Grand Central). Most of the craziness has spurred from the on-goings of SHOC. But, let me just say, while refraining from blowing-up right now, I’ve never gotten used to it. You’d think in five years I would have, but it just hasn’t happened. In fact, up until about a week ago, I felt like a boiling kettle ready to blow. I’d like to think I’m on simmer now. People are dropping by left and right to see my mom. Word is out that she’s not doing well.

My dad told me, “There are a lot of people that love your mother. We have to share her with them now.” This is true. But at what cost?

There’s not much peace left in our house. However, I think I’m suddenly finding the chaos to be peaceful. Maybe it’s because I’m becoming numb to it. Or maybe it’s because it reassures me that my mom is still here. Or maybe the overwhelming abundance of love is lacing itself around me, and my family. We’re strung out on love.