I'm sorry I've been MIA lately on this blog. I guess I'm in sort of a funk and I don't want to keep moaning on and on about it and chase you all away, you know? I've kind of grown to like you little boogers and I wouldn't want you to run away because of me being...well..funky.
I don't know if I told you all about how we're in the finishing touches of a huge home renovation. Did I tell you? I can't remember..
Ok, so we're in the finishing touches of a huge home renovation, there happy?
And the other day, we were moving totes in from the garage and the hubs gave me the most dreadful job of going through all of the stuff that I had hoarded in them. (I happen to be a bit of a hoarder. I come from a long line of them. My grandmother use to serve stuff in plastic butter bowls from, like, 1950)
So, there I am, going through the totes. No big deal.
And then I started finding some things that kind of hit me.
Like all of the kids scrap books that I've made them. Pictures of me being very young and very pregnant. Me as a young mom with two tiny baby monkeys born so close together that everyone thought they were twins. Pictures of me and the hubs before marriage and babies and home mortgages.
Then he brought in, and this is going to sound really stupid, but it was the final straw.
He brought in my pink golf bag.
See, the hubs loves to golf. Would do it everyday if there weren't this pain in his side called "work".
One weekend, two years ago, he had plans to go golfing but his buddy cancelled on him. The hubs looked like someone has shot his puppy. He just looked so sad. So, I offered to go. I don't remember if I was thinking that he would say "Thanks, but no" or "Okay, get in the car!" but he took me up on the offer. I had never been golfing in my life. I had seen a golf coarse and I've seen golfers play on TV so I thought it would be no big deal.
We played 18 holes, I wrecked the golf cart twice before he said I wasn't allowed to drive anymore, and it turns out that I'm one of those people who can whack at that ball with all of my might and it will only go like twenty feet. But the cool thing was, he didn't care. We had a great time, laughing and just being relaxed and hanging out. It was a great day.
After that, I started recieving gifts for no reason.
First came a huge box that contained my brand new pink golf bag.
Then I got some "girlie golf clubs" as he called them.
Then I got some pink, pearly golf balls.
We started golfing together as often as we could. And every time, it was a great time.
But then this summer came and there was no golfing.
I was too sick and he felt too guilty to go.
And I really missed it. I missed us together on the golf coarse.
So, that's why the funk rolled in.
But, in other news, as I'm sure you all already know, tomorrow is Thanksgiving. A day where we worship the turkey, football, and gigantic floats in parades. I hope you all enjoy your day!
Happy Thanksgiving To All!!!
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5 comments:
Trust you will golf again. I can see why the whole thing put you over the top.
You will have times when you feel better and the two of you will find a way to go again.
As with most illness, it comes and goes, and during the times that it's gone, that is when you live life OVER THE TOP.
Suck every last drop of fun and hapiness out of those times when your body refuses to give into your pain and illness. Live it not just for yourself, but also for your kids and husband.
Memories are made in these ways, and they'll bring back many happy and fond tales to be told at later times, in other blogs... (kidding)
Keep your chin high, and wave the red flag right in each new day's face.. Dare it to make the first move, and live your life!
Here's me cheering you on!
Tracy,
I totally understand how you feel about the golf. I feel it every time I look at my piano. I had to give up playing in public because of some nerve damage in an exacerbation. I hardly even go into the room where my piano is. But I won't give it up! I can still go in there and play for my own stress release and comfort; who cares if no one else ever hears me?
Don't give up, sweetie!
Peace,
Kelley
Strap a dayum club on your arm and swing wildly from a chair if you have to...there's nothing finer than laughing at yourself with someone you love IMHO. It's not the same, true...and that's the part of the "funk" that just isn't funky.
Linda D. in Seattle
Awww, Tracy that is a great story (the happy golfing part, not the no golfing anymore part). And frankly it does suck that you haven't golfed again. Maybe he will let you ride in the cart with him, joking and having fun, and CARRYING the clubs, but not getting out of the cart. You two can still have fun and be together but without you being in too much pain.
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