Eating Worms.

Wednesday March 30, 2016

It was a bad weekend.

Well, no – some of it was lovely. We were together as a family. We all went to church on Sunday to hear the Easter message of hope and reconciliation. We have Tom home, which is wonderful – but he's come alone because things haven't worked out for him romantically.

Sad. But life's like that sometimes.

It was a stressful weekend as, on Wednesday, it was my youngest daughter's turn to fall off a horse and break something. She broke her elbow. Oh, not an easy break, of course. We spent all day Thursday in hospital waiting for them to operate only for the consultant to say he was referring her to a specialist. At the time of writing we are waiting for the specialist to contact us and my poor daughter is in a temporary cast and a lot of pain.

But these things happen.

It was a stressful weekend because a dear friend thousands of miles away – a friend with whom I usually exchange texts several times a day – chose to go off grid for the weekend. This wouldn't normally be a problem except that this friend is going through a really hard time at the moment and – well – I worried. I worried a lot.

That's life too.

Such a minor thing it was which precipitated my breakdown: cooking a beautiful meal for the family on Sunday with a rib joint of beef my sister (the organic farmer) had given me. Only I'm cooking by remote control at the moment because of my broken ankle and one particular member of the family - who shall remain nameless - did not turn down the oven when and as instructed, so this very special meat had two and a half hours at a much higher temperature than planned...

I thought it was ruined and I broke down and cried. At that moment it was all too much. I wanted to run away, to hide in some dark hole. I just wanted out and away from everything. Yes – I wanted to go down to the bottom of the garden and eat worms because everything had gone wrong.

Of course, it wasn't the meat itself but the combined worry and grief over broken relationships, broken limbs, and vulnerable friends far away.

It's stressful time for all of us. As a family we are experiencing emotional and physical pain; we are coping with exhaustion and too much to do. We're irritating each other and snapping at each other. But we keep reminding ourselves that it's okay. We know we need to be a bit more patient and loving with each other while things heal. Broken limbs will heal, the pain of a lost love will fade. We will be able to rest – eventually.

And things aren't as bad as they could be. The meat was still delicious and my friend texted me on Monday with the words "still alive."

I'm grateful for that.

A Moodscope member.

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